The last thing I wanted was supervision while I turned his room, but I never said no to a guest. “Okay, but I don’t have to do it now if you want to drink your coffee.”
“That’s okay. I’ll fit in around you.” He slid his hands through his almost-curly hair. “I can work downstairs as easily as I can up here.”
Nothing about this charter made sense—he must understand that I was meant to fit around him not the other way around. But I couldn’t fight him on this at every turn, so I decided I would just take his offer at face value. “Careful. I might hand you a mop,” I teased, leading the way back into the interior.
He chuckled but didn’t say anything.
Once in the bedroom, he opened his laptop and settled at the small table under the window. I set to work.
I’d never felt so much like the help as I did as Hayden Wolf worked while I cleaned. Ordinarily, I didn’t mind being the maid of the rich and famous. The guests all seemed to merge into one and I was able to separate who I was from the job I was doing. Maybe it was because Hayden was here alone, or maybe it was because he wasn’t that much older than me, but the distance between Hayden and me didn’t feel as vast as it did with other guests. And I didn’t want him to see me as a stewardess. I wanted him to see the person beyond the uniform as a woman who could have gone to college and done so much more than clean his room and change his bedding.
I kept glancing across as Hayden remained laser focused on his laptop, occasionally frowning or shaking his head. Perhaps I could assist him in some way? It wasn’t as if he’d brought a personal assistant on board, which wasn’t unusual, although they normally stayed on shore somewhere rather than on the yacht.
“How long do you think you’ll be?” he asked without looking up.
Shit, had he seen me staring in his peripheral vision?
I snapped into action, pulling the sheets from the bed. “I’ll be as quick as possible, but you really don’t need to babysit me. I’m trustworthy.”
“Yeah?” he asked, turning to look at me. The intensity of his eyes sent a shiver down my spine.
“Honestly,” I said.
Again he looked at me, opened his mouth and went to speak before shaking his head and grabbing his computer. “I’ll be next door,” he said and swept past me, that earthy, masculine scent following him.
It was probably for the best. The less time I spent in close proximity to this man the better. Normally, I played along when guests told me more than they ever should about their personal business—everything from sexual exploits to dreams for the future. I’d nod, smile and feign interest, but I’d never be tempted to ask for more detail—it wasn’t my business and I’d never been particularly interested—always focused on the job and the service I was providing rather than the people I was providing it to. With Hayden Wolf, I found myself having to hold back from following him into the office and asking him a thousand questions. That desire couldn’t just be his muscular arms and searching eyes. I’d never been taken in by just the physical before, but with Hayden it seemed as though there was more to him—his family, his drive. The way he looked at me. Yes, it was better that he left me on my own. I’d be able to focus on getting his room fixed rather than the man I was fixing it for.
Eight
Hayden
Despite the heat and the rocking of the yacht, I couldn’t sleep. My plan had been to spend all night in the office working with advisors based in New York, who I’d selected because they had no public connection to Cannon. Then I’d thought I’d sleep in the day on deck. Working all night was fine. Sleeping all day wasn’t. Especially not today. I was due to hear from the lawyers, and I didn’t trust Wi-Fi, so I was having to go old school and have everything couriered to the boat in hard copy or on USB sticks.
I checked my watch, noting it was about half an hour since I’d seen Avery Walker. Right on cue, the main salon doors swished open. When she’d been cleaning my room, I’d found her so distracting that I’d had to leave the room. I’d been mesmerized by way her hands gripped the bed linen and found myself fantasying about pushing her onto the bed and my shoving her skirt up to her waist.
“Anything I can get you?” Avery asked as she came out onto the main deck. She made it sound as if she’d just happened to be passing by, but I’d been watching. She was always passing by every twenty to thirty minutes, catering to my every need. Her ponytail swished behind her as she came to a stop by my lounger. How would that ponytail feel wrapped around my hand?