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as much as the lake house.
Emma had to bite her tongue not to tell him how devastating he looked.
“I won’t be back until late tomorrow,” he repeated. “That doesn’t let you off work in the morning, Emma,” he added curtly. “There will be emails to delete and some to answer. Set aside the ones I need to address and we’ll see to them when I get back.”
“Yes, sir.” She really did sound like a parrot. But her voice was light and breezy. She did that deliberately. He couldn’t see the pain in her soft brown eyes, and that was just as well.
Marie saw it and grimaced. She didn’t understand what was going on. The Ariel that Connor was going nightclubbing with was the same brunette he’d sent packing because he’d gotten tired of bouncing soufflés. Now he was dating her again, and he was really rubbing it in. Did he know that he was hurting Emma with just the mention of the woman?
She studied his hard face as he looked toward Emma’s voice. Yes, he knew it, she realized suddenly. He was doing it deliberately. He wanted to hurt her. But why? She’d been kinder than any woman Marie could ever remember seeing with Mr. Sinclair. What reason would he have to grind into Emma like that?
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