A Spanish Awakening

The cynical smile playing about her lips vanished. ‘I wasn’t being serious!’ She watched his brows lift in response to the horrified vehemence of her tone and added, ‘And even if I did want to sightsee, by the time I check my emails my dad will have found me one or two things to do,’ she promised, flashing a wry smile.

‘Then don’t check your emails.’

The simple logic made Megan blink as she stared at him as though he were from another planet. ‘You might be your own boss, but I’m not. My dad does not have a great opinion of slackers.’

‘And are you a slacker?’ he wondered, making his interest sound academic.

Megan’s response was not academic, it was indignant. ‘I am not!’

One corner of his mouth lifted and the amusement extended to his dark eyes. ‘You are the boss’s daughter—that must give you a certain amount of latitude.’

‘Being the boss’s daughter means I have to prove I can do more than paint my nails—’ She turned her head, a suspicious frown forming on her smooth brow. ‘Are you trying to wind me up?’

His grin flashed. ‘Yes, the ruffled-feather look suits you.’ His eyes dropped to her emotionally heaving bosom. ‘Realistically, Armstrong isn’t going sack you to prove his egalitarian credentials, is he?’

‘If I didn’t pull my weight he might. But …’ she gave a shrug and conceded ‘.probably not.’

‘Because you’re his daughter.’ He raised a brow in response to her laugh and came to a halt as the second set of lights ahead changed. ‘Not because you’re his daughter? ‘

Her eyes connected with the dark-eyed glance that flickered her way. ‘While I’m working for him, to some extent he still controls my life.’

A small silence followed this unemotional explanation as Megan considered a situation she had been thinking about a lot of late.

‘So if he sacked you he’d lose that power? ‘