Page 40 of Sasha’s Secret

“It probably isn’t—at least, I can’t see how it would be. I stumbled across it by accident. If I’m right, I think you have a tag team of embezzlers on your hands.”

She hadn’t expected that, either. “You’re saying we have two thieves on the payroll? No, I don’t believe it. It can’t be true. I’d know if it was true.”

Questions sprayed across her mind like machine-gun fire. Rocco had to be wrong. If something like that was going on, she’d know. She spent anywhere from a few minutes to a couple of hours in the financial systems every day—she’d know if a crime was being committed.

Wouldn’t she?

Perhaps if Rocco told her who he suspected, she could tell him it was out of the question. The only person she had real doubts about was Frank Schofield, and not only did he not have access to the financial systems, he barely knew his way around a smartphone, never mind a sophisticated computer system.

So who was it?

Rocco shaking his head brought her out of her mental turmoil, to the realization she must have asked the question aloud.

“I can’t tell you anything until I have more than a suspicion to go on. Look, I could be wrong. I’m not an expert, but Nick’s an accountant—he’ll know if I’m reading this right, and if I am, he’ll know what we need by way of evidence. At least, enough to take it to the police.”

“I’m stunned. I had no idea. How could I have no idea?” She was fuming as well as in shock.

“Because you can’t control everything. If you tried, you’d be working twenty-four hours a day, and you’d burn out in no time. No one can do that day after day. We all have our limits.”

“If there’s something going on, I should have—”

“No, you told me yourself—there aren’t enough hours in the day. I still need to talk to these people, but I’m going to wait until I hear from Nick.”

Rocco was right, although Sasha was reluctant to admit it.

“Hey.” Rocco’s fingers on her jaw coaxed her into looking at him. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. You put people you believe are honest in positions of trust, and you expect them to behave in an honorable way. It’s also human nature to see yourself reflected in others—”

“I know that!” she snapped, and immediately regretted it. Wounded professional pride was making an ass out of her. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't take it out on you.”

Rocco’s arm went around her and drew her against him. There was a wonderful sense of warmth and comfort about him, and she couldn’t help but relax.

“Don’t worry—the shoulders can take it.”

Sasha doubted there was anything those broad, muscular shoulders couldn’t take. They certainly held up well when she was gripping them in the throes of the most intense orgasms she’d ever experienced. She sighed at the memory and snuggled—since when did Sasha Morgan snuggle?—into Rocco’s side. He made an irresistibly comfortable, but more to the point sexy, pillow. “Do we really have to go back to work this afternoon?”

She moved with his shrug. “It’s Friday. We can always POETS.”

Sasha groaned. “What? Is that another Brit thing?”

“POETS. Piss—Push Off Early, Tomorrow’s Saturday.”

Sasha suspected in the circles he used to run in, his initial definition of the P was the accurate one. “Is every Brit as crazy as you?”

“Only the half-Sicilian ones. I have an idea.”

“About what? What we do this afternoon instead of work?” She was so tempted. She’d put in some long days in the run-up to Rocco arriving at the estate, and the thought of quitting early for the weekend was so, so seductive. Not to mention she’d missed having him beside her the previous night.

“Don’t reject this out of hand. How about if we have lunch, take an hour—ninety minutes max—to tidy up today’s loose ends, then spend some time together, and maybe, later on, go for a swim?”

“A swim? That’s it? That’s the best you can do to entice me into finishing early? I can swim any day of the week,” she scoffed, knowing Rocco would take it with the humor she intended.

“Uh-huh. See, I didn't say how much later we’d go for that swim. I was thinking much… much… later.”

Now he was making it start to sound interesting. “‘When everyone’s asleep’ later? Does this include skinny-dipping, by any chance?”

“If you like. We could use the smaller pool,” he suggested.

Good choice. Linzi had used that particular pool less than half a dozen times since she’d moved in. Sasha didn’t relish the thought of being caught swimming in the nude by her petite, skinny boss. “How many lengths are you planning to swim?”