Shoulders back. Smile in place. Speak slowly.Her training whizzed through her brain. ‘Oh, excuse me, I do apologise...’
The man turned and her jaw dropped. All her training left her.
Roman?
‘What areyoudoing here?’ She stared, full of accusation. She forgot entirely that he was apparently a paying customer and she was here toserve.
His perma-frown deepened but the impact on his devastating looks was negligible. His black tee-shirt and black jeans were too casual an outfit for a guest, yet she knew with utter conviction that he belonged here. He emanated not just control, but power. And that tee-shirt was pure distraction. The way it hugged his muscles, the ones she’d sprawled over a few weeks ago... Her mouth dried and her body heated as, with appalling timing, her brain went AWOL and she remembered just how big and powerful he’d felt beneath her. And then above her. And then...
It was a good thing the ornament she held was wooden, not glass. It would have shattered by now from the way she gripped it.
‘You shouldn’t be here,’ she muttered desperately. ‘You really shouldn’t.’
He didn’t reply. He just stared. His gaze travelled over her uniform, making her uncomfortably aware of the collared white blouse and the royal-blue knee-length skirt that sat just a little snugly over her bottom. Not to mention the ugly black shoes with the non-slip tread and no high heel that made her feel even shorter beside him.
‘Passengers aren’t scheduled to arrive for another forty minutes,’ she added. ‘You are a passenger, right?’
His frown didn’t ease, rather the edges of his jaw tightened as he strolled towards her. It wasn’t just awkward—it wasfrigid.
‘You can’t be my steward for this journey,’ he said grimly.
The rejection stung. ‘I’m not assigned to this carriage.’ She mustered dignity. ‘I’ve only come to clear the Christmas decorations.’
But she put the ornament down on the nearest surface, deciding he could put them out of sight himself. What was he doing here? Was he really a passenger? ‘I thought you planned to work through Christmas.’
‘I am.’
She couldn’t stop herself from looking into his eyes, fascinated once more by the brilliant blue and that singular patch of topaz...
‘Violet?’ Frankie’s voice summoned her.
Never had she been so thankful for an interruption. ‘Excuse me please.’
She turned and fled, aware he’d stepped forward to stop her. But she didn’t let him. She just ran.
Frankie met her halfway along the corridor of the preceding carriage. His eyebrows lifted at her breathlessness. ‘You okay?’
‘Um... Fine.’ Violet dragged in much needed air. ‘What do you need? I haven’t had a chance to—’
‘We’ve been called in for random drug-testing. They do it every so often. This time it’s because the boss is boarding, and Colson’s switched into ultra-efficient manager mode—which basically means he’s panicking.’
‘The boss?’
‘Of the whole company.’ Frankie gestured for her to follow. ‘Come on, we have to get this done now or the departure will be delayed.’
Violet didn’t have time to dwell on the total disaster that was the fact that her fallen angel had just landed on her train. She followed Frankie to the employee office inside the station. Colson shoved pages still warm from the printer into their hands.
‘It’s in your contract, but here’s the permission form,’ he said. ‘We double opt-in every time. Standard health and safety protocol. No drugs that can impair performance or other conditions that might cause safety issues.’
Frankie sighed. ‘So much admin.’
Violet skimmed the form, signed her name and handed it back. Poor Colson was really living on his nerves. She flashed a reassuring smile at him before joining the queue at the bathroom. It was somewhat embarrassing to take the small plastic container to a medic waiting in the office with a selection of dipsticks assembled on the table in front of him.
‘What a job,’ Frankie murmured in an amused tone as they returned to the train.
Violet wasn’t concerned about the test. She hadn’t touched alcohol in the last few weeks. The price of cocktails in Manhattan was prohibitive, and she was flat broke. She’d even had to dip into her return-trip fund, which was why a job that included bed and food was perfect. But now Roman was on board. And that was too awkward.
‘I’ll sort those Christmas decorations,’ Frankie said. ‘You get back to the dining car.’