He cleared his throat. “Well—we agreed, last week, that you couldn’t stay here forever.” Then she’d charmed him so thoroughly that he’d forgotten to mind the fact she was sleeping in his sitting room. But he certainly minded now. For entirely different reasons. “Perhaps the best thing is for you to move out. I—I have alternative accommodations in mind.” Or rather, he did as of ten seconds ago. “We could go and take a look on . . .” He flicked through his mental diary, the pieces of this half-arsed plan flying together because he was that desperate to avoid temptation. “Thursday. No check-ins on Thursday. We could make that our house-hunting day.”

There: that meant he’d only have to live beside her, to know she was in here alone at night with nothing but the toy he’d used to make her come, for another four days.

Dear God, it was going to be hell.

“Fine,” Eve said after a moment’s pause. “Fine. Yes. Thursday. If that’s what you want.”

“Yes. Thursday. Good.” He forced the words out of his throat.

She lifted her chin. “Good.”

His eyes caught on her mouth, and he remembered the moment he’d kissed her, and he wanted to relive it again and again and again for the rest of his life.

“I should go,” he said stiffly.

She didn’t stop him.

* * *

Eve held her breath and counted to ten. The door clicked shut behind Jacob before she’d hit four, because he wasn’t the long, lingering-looks sort, and even if he was, he wouldn’t have given them to her.

Sigh.

She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter, because it didn’t. Or rather, it shouldn’t. She barely knew the man, and she wasn’t permitted to have him. He was a bad choice, of course he was: her employer. Her temporary employer. A high-handed, frosty, impossible man who’d probably end up married to someone severe and put together and dear God, why the bloody hell was Eve thinking about marriage right now? The point was, sleeping with Jacob had been one of her life’s many terrible, thoughtless, immature choices, and she should be grateful he’d put such a firm stop to things.

It was both senseless and pathetic to wish that Jacob had said something entirely different. To wish that he’d asked her for something she couldn’t give and shouldn’t want. Eve repeated this mantra to herself several thousand times over, until it took on a little rhythm inside her mind, one she was too hollow to actually sing. Then she heard the faint sound of the shower turning on down the hall, and instead of smirking because she knew exactly what Jacob must be doing in there, her lower lip wobbled dangerously because he wouldn’t be doing it with her.

She looked around the room that had been filled with so much hope and happiness at the start of the evening, and then breathless lust, and now disappointment, and she sort of cracked right down the middle.