Page 57 of His Surrender

I keep my head down and walk past everyone, hoping nobody says anything. Maybe they’ll pretend I’m invisible.

“Going swimming?” a friendly female voice asks as I round the couch.

I look up at her and offer a small smile. “I thought I might get some exercise, swimming some laps,” I lie.

I notice Dean’s eyes on me. They are dark and hold something in them I can’t quite pinpoint. Whatever it is, it’s intense, and it has my body slightly off-kilter.

Before I can convince myself he’s about to fire me for inappropriately touching him, I make a beeline for the elevator.

The moment I’m in and the doors close, I let out a breath.

I might have lied to the nice woman in Dean’s apartment. I am not swimming laps. I’m not some kind of experienced swimmer. I’d look like a fool if I tried.

Instead, I decide to relax in the hot tub. Luckily, the hot water does enough to loosen my muscles and calm my nerves.

With nobody else in the entire room, I let my head fall back against the edge and close my eyes.

This still feels like I’m living a dream. I would have not put nannying for my childhood crush in a penthouse in Manhattan on my bingo card.

But here I am.

After an hour, I decide I can’t hide out any longer. My body can’t sit in the tub anymore, and there’s no way I’m hopping into the pool now.

After I dry off with a towel, I throw my dress back over myself and head for the private elevator.

I type in the code, and I’m up to the penthouse floor in seconds.

It opens up, and instead of hearing laughter and voices, it’s just the sound of the television on in the family room.

I expect to see Dean relaxing on the couch, but the room is empty.

The moment I get into my room, I close the door and take my dress off then hook my fingers around the strings at the back of my neck.

The swimsuit has been digging into my shoulders since I got out of the hot tub.

I hear the knob of my door turn, and then it swings open unexpectedly. Dean stops in his tracks as his eyes lock on mine. Then they slowly travel downward.

My stomach tightens as I watch him take me in.

“Oh.” His voice comes out lower than usual. “I thought you were still downstairs.”

“I … just got back.”

Silence stretches between us.

Normally, this is the point where I’d expect him to apologize, back out of the room, and close the door.

Instead, he stays exactly where he is.

His jaw flexes while his gaze drops again, taking in far more of me than I ever intended him to see.

Heat races across my skin.

I should say something or grab a towel. At least do something besides stand still as his eyes continue to linger on me. My top has sagged slightly and I know my breasts are pouring out of my barely tied top.

Instead, I remain stuck in place as Dean takes one slow step forward, then another.

The air between us seems to disappear with every foot he closes.