There’s a difference between a chance meeting between two people that flares into a one-off sexual encounter and sleeping with your boss. A one-night stand is easy to forget. What happened last night will be seared in my mind forever.

I won’t be able to look at him the same way. Unless I quit my job. If I don’t, every time I see him, I’ll remember his hot kisses—and want them again.

Every time I see him, I’ll remember this night, blush, and be unable to work.

I bit my lip, staring at his bare chest. Chiseled muscles, rock-hard abs, a deep-set V and I stop my gaze from gawking at him.

God, what is it about him that makes me hot and lustful?

Everything, I answer.

He looks at me for several breaths.

I should give him an out and move back in with my friends. This isn’t the way I should spend my vacation.

Fucking my boss and pretending to be his date has drama written all over it.

“We shouldn’t have taken it so far,” I say, finding a T-shirt.

He gets out of bed, finds a pair of basketball shorts, and puts them on. He runs a hand through his thick hair and then looks around before fixing his gaze on me.

“Why?” he asks with a thick voice.

I wish I knew what he was thinking.

Is he regretting what happened just like I am?

Maybe he’s trying to find a way to kick me out before I serve him with a sexual harassment lawsuit, which I wouldn’t do because it was consensual. Plus, I’d lose my job and my career.

How I wish we were different people because then I could stay with him until the end of our vacation and he’d become an unforgettable memory.

“Look, Claire, this isn’t ideal because we work together. But if you’re looking for me to agree we shouldn’t have done it, I’m not going to. It wasn’t a mistake. You said it last night, we’re two consenting adults. We enjoy each other’s company. Unless...I misread you last night and you hated every minute of our time together.”

It’d be easier to tell him I faked everything that happened last night, but I’m not that kind of person.

“I didn’t,” I say honestly. “It’s just…a week from now, when I arrive at the office, what are you going to see?”

With amusement glittering in his eyes, and the arrogant smirk drawn on his face, he says, “I reserve the right to imagine whatever I want, Ms. Solis.”

“Screw you, Miller Archer.”