Women like Josephine are infuriating. 

So maybe I lost it with her, but she clearly had no idea how fucking foolish she was being. Emerald Shores isn’t one of my properties. There’s no guarantee she’ll be safe. It’s like she’s forgotten the creep at the bar.

I stalk through the hallway to the elevators, the anger still roiling in my gut. Of course, none are waiting on my floor. I stab at the button, too hard.

While I wait for the damn elevator, I try to get a grip. I need to focus on the resort. Josephine Paxton has no idea how tempting her body is. She has no idea that it’s an open invitation to the wrong kind of man, and she simply doesn’t care.

That scumbag from last night is still somewhere on the property. And why? Because I haven’t had him thrown out. She’d never agree to press charges, even if I had. She’s too stubborn.

I take in a heavy breath, then another, running my hands frustratedly through my hair.

The elevator car arrives with a ding. 

What does she want from me? She didn’t have to leave the waterfall if she didn’t want to.

It was the smart decision, but she didn’t have to do it.

As the elevator descends to the first floor, I try to push aside the fact that maybe it’s me who I’m angry with. I shouldn’t have turned on her like that. I should have told her that when I saw her at the waterfall, alone, the second feeling that consumed me was a worry that was almost dizzying, it was so strong.

The first feeling wasn’t for public consumption. 

Calm. I need to be calm. This trip isn’t about her. It’s about assessing the resort. If Dex wants to acquire it, we’ll need to know what we’re getting into. That’s why I’m here.

By the time I reach the restaurant, my heart isn’t thrashing around in my chest like a fish out of water any longer. Dinner. It’s only dinner, and a low-stakes one. The worst that could happen is that the food will be bad, and then I’ll tell Dex there staff needs to be completely replaced if Cash Industries takes it over.

The hostess perched right outside the boundary of the bar greets me with an understated smile, looking up at me flirtatiously through her eyelashes. “Table for two?” 

I force myself not to roll my eyes. “One.”

“Right this way.”

She sways her hips while she walks us to a table at the edge of the dining area. It’s so close to the pool that if someone dives in hard enough, they’ll splash us. “Is this okay?”

“It’ll be great.”

I take the seat facing into the restaurant, away from the pool, so I can keep an eye on how this place functions.

It’s then that I notice her. Josephine sticks out like a sore thumb.

She’s sitting at the bar, her chin resting in the palm of her hand. She appears to be looking down thoughtfully at something on the bartop. A notepad? I can’t see from where I’m sitting.

It doesn’t take long before she senses my eyes on her, and she looks up.

Even from across the room, her dark eyes are alive. It’s nothing like the way she looked last night, drunk and slightly dazed, and nothing like she looked at the waterfall. Her gaze sends a shock straight through me. I feel her hurt and determination like a lightning bolt.

I want to ignore that shock. I have to ignore it. So I pull out my phone and put it on the table, bending my head down to look at it. There is no need for us to talk. She clearly doesn’t want me interfering in her little vacation, and that’s fine. I don’t want her interfering in my trip, either. No matter what Julia and Dex think, I’m at Emerald Shores to work.

But the stakes are higher now. I can feel her eyes zeroed in on me, watching every bite I take. Her disappointment hangs in the air around me, and it’s bullshit. I’ve done nothing to disappoint or upset her. When the bill comes, I stick my credit card under the flap and hand it right back to the waitress.

Josephine is the one who—

“You’ll kill yourself, working all the time like that.” Josephine’s voice is soft and low, the hint of a laugh bubbling under the surface, and it’s silky, the way I imagine her hair would feel if I ran my hands through it after it had dried in the sun.

She stands at the edge of the table, drink in hand, a little umbrella peeking jauntily out from the rim. She’s grinning at me, like the stony silence from earlier had been a fluke.

“You’ll kill yourself, too, going out alone on the hiking trails.”

“But I wasn’t alone,” she says, almost a little coyly, and then she reaches for the other chair. She pulls it out from the table, and sits down like this is her table, too. “You were there.”

I don’t need another person nagging me about my work habits, much less Josephine Paxton, who I’m convinced doesn’t have any admirable habits at all.

“Listen,” she rushes on before I can stand up to leave. “I feel like we got off on the wrong foot.”

“I feel like we’ve been on the wrong foot since you dated that prick back in high school.”

She wrinkles her forehead, and her eyes go wide. “Are you talking about Greg Roberts?”

“You do remember him, right? He terrorized my younger brother.” This anger shouldn’t be boiling so near the surface, but it is, and what the hell, I’m on vacation. If she wants to keep talking to me, she can start by answering that. “You didn’t seem to have much of a problem with it.”

Her face has darkened, the cocky smile fading away. Then she lifts her chin. “I don’t have an excuse for that.” The little hitch that comes across in her soft tone makes me wonder for the first time how Greg Roberts had treated her. I always assumed he treated her like a fucking princess and reserved his worst self for everyone else, but maybe that’s not true. 

“What’s your excuse for being at my table?”

“You had an empty seat.”

“Was there an invitation on it?”

“No. Was there an invitation to join me at the waterfall? Because I was enjoying myself before I was interrupted.”

I have no idea why she’s sitting here, talking to me. I have no idea why I’m bothering to respond. Irritation flares in my chest. Standing up and walking away is the best option.

But I can’t do it.

There’s a stalemate, both of us glaring at each other across the table, and then Josephine sets her glass down with an elegant grace. “I can see you’re stressed out,” she says, looking me in the eye. “So here’s my proposition. You get off your grumpy ass and come do something with me. We can walk on the beach. We can go parasailing.”

“I don’t—”

There’s a spark in her eye and she sets her jaw.

“I dare you,” she says, and damn it, I can’t resist.