Haze (The Fosters of New York 2) - Page 66

She grabs hold of my forearm as she peers down at the numbers. "I have to take care of everything, sir. It's a lot to manage all the employees."

"You're having difficulty keeping everything in check?"

Her body stiffens, her hand darting to the front of her dress. "No, I didn't mean that. Isla is just a handful."

"Indeed she is."

She waits a moment before she responds. "I saw her open her dress on the security footage, sir. She just untied it and there it all was. I can show you if you want."

The fact that she hasn't fired Isla herself is evidence enough that it was a woman Isla showed her lingerie to, and not a man. "I don't need to see it. I'll speak to Isla about it."

"What's going on with her? Is there something going on between you two?"

The question irritates me enough that I turn to face her. "Why are you asking?"

Her arms cross over her chest in a defensive way. "She breaks a lot of rules and never gets in trouble."

"She has yet to break a rule that would warrant terminating her employment, Cicely," I remind her. "You've broken rules as well. You didn't do your job the morning that refuse was found in the change room. If you had, it would have been a non-issue."

"What is it about girls like her?" Her hand flies in the air behind her head. "Why do men like you always want girls like that?"

"I have no idea what other men want." I look past her to where Isla is standing. Her face lit up in a smile as she speaks to a customer. "I can tell you that Isla is not a girl. She's an incredibly complex woman and I'm honored whenever she spends time with me."

"Whatever," she mumbles as she walks away. "I seriously do not get the appeal."

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Isla

I scan my apartment one last time before I open the door.

"Isla." He grabs my shoulders before he leans down to kiss me softly. "You look beautiful."

He always says that. I think I could be wearing a burlap sack and a pointy hat on my head and he'd say the exact same thing. I'm not complaining. I like it. I'll never tire of it.

He, on the other hand, looks striking. He's dressed completely in black. This is one of the few times I've seen him outside his penthouse without a tie.

"This is where I live," I state the obvious out of nervousness. Of course this is where I live. I'm the one who gave him the address when he asked if he could pick me up for dinner.

I move aside as he brushes past me. "It's larger than I imagined. It's comfortable?"

"It's no penthouse overlooking Central Park," I tease. "I like it a lot though. I really like it now that my roommate has left."

"I thought she was moving out on Friday."

I thought the same until she told me that Nigel's roommate had bailed on him so she was going to move in there. It's financially the best decision for them both and as she packed up what was left of her things last night, I'd given her a huge hug and watched her walk out the door.

We'll still meet for lunch and dinners. We'll hang out sometimes but our lives are moving in different directions.

"She had an opportunity to move sooner, so she took it."

He reaches for my hands, pulling them into his. "You're trembling, Isla. What is it?"

I glance towards my bedroom. There's no reason for me to be nervous. This is what I want. It's why I stopped on my way home from work last night in a small store I had peered in night after night. I'm not doing this for him. Well, not just for him. This is for me.

"Kiss me." I perch myself up on my tiptoes. I have yet to put on my heels, or my panties, for that matter. The only thing I'm wearing is the navy blue sheath dress he's never seen me in before.

He cradles my face in his palms as he kisses me slow and deep, his delicious tongue diving into my mouth, coaxing me. I moan into the kiss as he trails his teeth over my bottom lip. This time I don't pull back when he bites me.

Tags: Deborah Bladon The Fosters of New York Romance
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