Free The Boss and Her Billionaire by Michelel de Winton Page A

lips at her ear were pleasantly unnerving. “I’m afraid so,” she said and pushed him away. “Just for a couple of numbers. Don’t let them wear you out.” Without looking behind her to
    check his expression, she fled the deck, heading straight for her stateroom and a cold shower.The next day Dylan read the rules to shuffleboard with growing despondency. It looked like a tedious game.

    When he’d seen his activity schedule, he hadn’t really grasped the enormity of what he was being asked to do. He’d thought Michaela legitimately liked him, but perhaps he’d misread the signals, because he wasn’t sure he’d have a moment to eat in between rushing to lead the various activities on his roster.
    When she’d been in his arms there hadn’t been a trace of the woman who could dish out this sort of
    punishment.

    Harden up. No need to get soft because the big mean boss gave him a nasty schedule.

    Then another thought hit him—perhaps she liked him too much. The idea warmed him, made him want
    to seek her out and encourage her to wind herself around him as she had when they’d danced. And
    when they’d kissed…

    When they’d kissed, there had been nothing but a woman seeking a man who knew how to please her.
    Their roles hadn’t mattered—boss and employee tags became irrelevant.

    His resolve hardened. You won’t frighten me away, Michaela Western. I’m made of much stronger stuff
    than your usual minions.

    Despite his determination, the day was a blur. Dylan forced out smile after smile and cheered at each and every activity. He literally fell into bed at the end of it.

    The day after that should have been better, as the passengers were due to go ashore to Norfolk Island, but the weather turned, becoming too dangerous for the tender boats to land. So instead of having a
    day off, Dylan found himself involved in emergency line dancing classes, as well as a host of other
    activities designed to placate grumpy passengers. By the time the evening show came again, he was
    exhausted.

    “Have you run yourself ragged?” George asked.

    “I think that woman hates me.”

    “Who, the cruise director? Oh, I don’t think so. Michaela Western doesn’t really hate anyone. She just likes the job to get done. It’ll probably take a while to get used to. You have to learn to pace yourself.
    Don’t think you can go dancing until the wee small hours, then throw yourself into cheering on every
    activity on board and expect to be full of energy for the show, as well.”

    “Sure.” High energy was Dylan’s natural state of operation, although he had to admit his usual energy requirements didn’t include rehearsals and activities and two full-throttle dance shows every night. It wasn’t mental exhaustion giving him trouble, just physical demands his body hadn’t dealt with for many years.

    “You’ll get there. Set for tonight, though?” George asked, his eyes twinkling.

    Dylan nodded. Tonight’s show was a Broadway tribute, far less taxing than the cabaret numbers, thank
    goodness.

    The show opened, and the audience was as packed as the previous night, but this time Dylan’s nerves
    were jangling. When he got on stage, the movements didn’t come easily. He had to look at the other
    dancers to remember his cues, and he fumbled a few partnering moves with one of the Australian twins.

    “Watch it, you almost dropped me there,” she hissed.

    “Watch it yourself,” he whispered back.

    By the time the final curtain came down, Dylan was fuming, angry with both his stroppy partners and
    himself. He’d missed three cues and almost missed the turns on two of his duets.

    “Not such a superstar after all,” one of the twins said.

    “Happens when your ego gets too inflated. Bursts like a balloon and goes hissing all over the stage,” the other said.Dylan felt his expression darken. He’d always been driven to be the best he could. Boardroom or dressing room, it didn’t make any difference.