Glow (Glimmer and Glow #2)(84)

“That’s not a bad idea,” Dylan muttered after a moment. “People are going to think it’s odd, and Kehoe is going to be pissed as hell to be pulled away while his precious camp is in session, but you know what?” He leaned back in his chair, already mentally planning how he was going to orchestrate the maneuver. “I really don’t give a damn what that * thinks.”


*

THAT night, Dylan had expected that Alice would be flushed with excitement over her team’s tied win for first place in the team competition. Instead, she seemed tense, tired, and distracted when they returned to the castle. When he suggested she take a hot bath in the Jacuzzi tub and try to unwind, she agreed immediately, making him think she realized she wasn’t herself, too.

After she emerged from the bathroom a while later, hair damp and wrapped in her robe, she appeared a little more relaxed. He was reading a report, half-reclining in bed against the pillows. He set it aside as she approached and beckoned her with his hand. Wordlessly, she came down on the mattress and cuddled up to him, her head on his chest.

“That tub is amazing. My legs and arms are like cooked noodles.”

“Good, you needed it.”

She made a satisfied sound of agreement.

“Did something happen today that made you so tense?” he asked, sliding his hand beneath her robe and stroking the soft, dewy skin of her shoulder. He glanced down and saw her lips part, but she said nothing. Her long eyelashes flickered. He sensed her hesitation. “Alice?” he prompted.

“It was nothing,” she said softly.

“If there was an ‘it,’ then it had to be something.”

She placed her opened hand, palm down on his bare abdomen. His nerves flickered in awareness at her touch. She caressed him, gliding her hand toward his crotch. He placed his hand on top of hers.

“Are you trying to distract me?” he asked her.

She turned her face into his chest. “No, you’re distracting me. You smell good. And you feel good,” she said throatily, rubbing her lips against his skin. His skin roughened at her touch. He resisted a strong urge to push her head closer . . . encourage her. He slipped his fingers beneath her chin and applied pressure. She looked up at him reluctantly.

“What happened?” He read her anxiety like a neon sign. “Tell me,” he insisted.

She shook her head impatiently. “It was Kehoe,” she finally admitted.

“What about Kehoe?”

“He came down really hard on me for this thing my kids did—something that the other managers liked and he didn’t.”

“What did he say?”

She sighed. “I don’t expect you to fight any battles for me when it comes to Kehoe,” she said impatiently. “I don’t expect you to do anything for me when it comes to my counselor duties, and you’ve said you wanted me to sink or swim on my own merits. I can handle it, Dylan.”

He cupped the side of her head. “This isn’t about your success or failure as a Camp Durand counselor, Alice. It’s about Kehoe. And you. He came up here tonight, ranting. I’ve never seen him like that before.”

She blinked in surprise. She planted her elbow on the mattress and propped herself up, so that she could see him better. “He came up here? What was he ranting about?”

“You. Me. He insisted that I was somehow responsible for you doing well as a counselor, implying I was coaching you. He said he was going to refuse to offer you a position as a junior executive, even if the other managers gave you the votes.”

“He did?” she gasped. “What did you say?”

“That if he did, I’d fire him.”

Her eyes widened.

“He acted like a lunatic. Jim Sheridan heard it all, and he thought the same thing. I want to know what he said to you. I’m not trying to fight any human resources battles for you. This is about something much more practical and important.”

She sighed. “He just said stuff about how while everyone else might think I’m doing well as a counselor, he doesn’t. And then he said all this weird stuff about me being dead wrong if I thought I was going to ride off into the sunset with Prince Charming.” She rolled her eyes. Despite her supposed casual attitude, he sensed her anxiety though. It made him tense.

“What else, Alice?” he prodded.

“He . . . he sort of implied this”—she waved between them—“has happened before, and he didn’t allow it then and he wouldn’t now, either.”

“What? That you and I had been involved before?”

“No.” She glanced up at him warily through spiky bangs. “I think he was implying that you’d slept with someone under his watch before . . . like a new Durand recruit or something, and that he put a halt to it.” She shook her head, appearing bewildered. “Maybe I misunderstood him. I know you’ve said that isn’t true, that you’ve never slept with a Durand employee before.”

“You’re just not sure you can believe me.”

“I do believe you, Dylan. But why did he say that? What’s he trying to accomplish?”

“Dissention. He’s jealous of your success at the camp, of me, of what we have . . . everything. And he’s trying to poison any happiness we might have,” he said, sounding more irritated than he’d intended.