“Is that right?”

“Yes.”

He noticed she was barely able to keep from squirming under his sharp gaze. Good.

Then, without warning, she stepped even closer and stared hard at him, eye to eye. Well, eye to chest was more accurate, since he towered over her. But that detail didn’t seem to intimidate her.

“Look, I’m not above begging,” she admitted. “I intend to stay on this island and I’m willing to do anything you want me to do. If you refuse to let me be a cocktail waitress, I’ll clean hotel rooms or wash dishes or…or water your plants. I just ask that my mornings be kept free for the spores. That’s why the cocktail waitress job is ideal, but there must be something else I can do around here. Oh, I can cook! Well, I’m not a great cook, but I can make salads or cut up fruit or…”

Anything he wanted her to do? Did she realize how dangerous that offer was? Was she truly that naive? For a second or two, Logan wondered about her and her wide-eyed innocence, then roughly shook the thought away. He didn’t believe it. Grace Farrell was as manipulative as every other woman he’d ever met. Intriguing, gorgeous, sexy, but a manipulative liar just the same.

Damn, his brain was fogging over from her erotic scent. Maybe he was crazy, but he wanted his hands on her.

“Fine,” he said. “You’ve got one week to prove you can handle the cocktail waitress job. If not, you’re off the island.”

“Oh, thank you!” Without warning, she threw herself into his arms. “Thank you so much. I can do it.”

He drew in her scent and warmth, then forced himself to take hold of her elbows and nudge her out of his arms. “Just make sure you don’t break any more glasses.”

“I won’t, sir.”

“And don’t call me sir.”

She smiled tentatively. “Mr. Sutherland.”