Maisey Yates - Mistresses - After Hours With The Boss - Her Little White Lie / Their Most Forbidden Fling / An Inescapable Temptation

She looked over at Ana, and for the first time, she let the fear that was always ready to pounce on her, overtake her fully. “Can I do this? Am I really the best person?” She looked at Dante. “Tell me. Because I’m scared I’m going to mess it up.”

He looked stunned for a moment. “I … I confess, I’m not the best person to judge how healthy a family is. But you love her. I remember love. I remember when I could feel it. I remember my mother. And the way you hold her, the way she feels when you’re near, that’s what it is.”

A lump in her throat tried to block her words. “But I mess everything up,” she said. “Ask anyone. My family, my teachers, my friends. I always got such bad grades in school. In math and science and history. I liked to read. I did well in English and art. But the other stuff … I could hardly pass a class. I did so poorly that my parents wouldn’t help me get to college. And of course I couldn’t get a scholarship. And no one was surprised. Because they just … expect it from me.” She blinked back tears. “I have messed up about every major life moment a person has. First kisses, prom, getting into college. What if I screw this up, too?”

“You haven’t messed everything in your life up,” he said, taking on that confident tone that was so familiar to her now. “You do well at your job. Exceedingly well. You lost your best friend and you carried on, both with work and with raising her child. Do you know how many people would have been content to simply let the State take over? So many, Paige. And you didn’t do that. You come through when it matters.”

“But I’m scared to want it,” she said. “I’m scared of how much I care for her.”

He frowned and looked out at the sea, the lines by his eyes deepening. “Emotion is the single most dangerous thing I can think of. The kind that controls you. Makes you do things you never thought you were capable of. But … I can see the way it pushes you with her. You told the social worker you were engaged to your boss. You were willing to do anything, take any risk, for her. There is power in that. And your love seems to have power for good. Trust that.”

His words were encouraging in a way, but so laced with a bitter sadness that they settled in her like lead.

“And what about your emotions?” she asked. “What power do you see in them?”

He looked at her, his dark eyes glittering. “I looked in myself, and saw the potential for terrible things. And since that day I haven’t felt anything. I find my power from somewhere else, a place I can control.”

She felt like someone had reached into her chest, grabbed her heart and squeezed it tight. “Dante … you’re helping me. I look in you and I see so much good.”

“Then you are blind.” He stood up and walked off the terrace into the house, and all she could do was stare at his back retreating into the shadows.

She’d seen that emptiness again. That same look he’d gotten in the hall just before he’d snapped at her. That same look he’d had in her office when they’d kissed. She’d taken it for emotionlessness but it wasn’t that.

It was something else. Something worse. Something she was afraid she couldn’t help him with.

HE heard crying. He moved to a sitting position in bed and swung his legs over the side, his feet planted on the carpet.

Ana was crying.

He stood and walked out of his room, striding down the hall. He opened the door to the nursery, casting a sliver of light into the room. He saw Paige, sitting in the rocking chair, holding Ana, rocking her, patting her back. Ana was crying still. And so was Paige. Glittery tracks down her cheeks.

His first instinct was to turn away. To walk away from the scene as quickly as possible, go back to bed. Shut down the strange emotions that were rising up, pressing on his throat.

“Is everything okay?”

“No,” Paige said thickly. “She’s been crying for an hour and she won’t stop. I’ve tried everything. I fed her, I changed her. I’m holding her. I turned the light on, I turned it off. I don’t know what else to do.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing you’re doing wrong.”

“What if it is?” she whispered, despair lacing her voice.

He took a step into the room, ignoring the tightness in his chest. “Babies cry, for no reason sometimes.”

He’d heard that said, though he wasn’t sure where.

“But Ana doesn’t, usually.”

“Does she have a fever?” That seemed a logical question.

Paige put her cheek down on Ana’s head. “I don’t think so.” She smoothed her hands over the baby’s brow. “She doesn’t feel warm to me. Does she feel warm to you?”

He couldn’t bring himself to touch her. She was a tiny creature, fragile. Small-boned. Delicate. He didn’t want to put his hands on her.

“I don’t think she’s warm,” he said.

Paige put her hand on the baby’s forehead. “No, you’re right. I don’t think she is. Could you sing to her?”

“Sing?” he asked.

“A lullaby.”

His breath stalled in his throat, got trapped there. “I don’t know any lullabies,” he lied.

“Oh … that’s okay.” She patted Ana on the back. “I tried to sing and she just cried harder so I thought maybe you could …”

“Sorry,” he said, curling his fingers into fists, fighting the urge to run from the room.

For that reason alone he had to stay. Dante Romani did not run. He would not.

Ana hiccuped, her tiny shoulders jerking with the motion. Her cries slowed, quieted, until they became muffled, sporadic whimpers.

He watched her for a few moments, silence settling between them as Paige continued to rock Ana until the whimpering ceased altogether.

“See, she was just crying,” he said, trying to sound certain. Trying to feel some control over the situation when the simple fact was, he had none. There was a nursery in his home. There was a baby here. A woman. She had her things in his closet.

No, nothing was in his control anymore.

“I guess she was,” Paige whispered.

She got up from the chair and walked over to the crib, placing Ana gingerly onto the mattress, then straightening, freezing for a second while she waited to see if the baby would wake up.

The room stayed silent.

“She seems like she’s asleep now,” Paige whispered.

“You should sleep, too,” he said. She looked tired. Sad.

She wrapped her robe around herself, a little tremor shaking her body. “No. I don’t … I don’t think I could sleep right now.”

The desolation in her tone did something to him. Made his stomach feel tight.

“Hungry?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not really. But do you have chocolate?”

He let out a long, slow breath. Paige was upset, obviously, and while he would usually walk away and get back in bed without a twinge of guilt, he couldn’t do that now. He wasn’t going to take the time to analyze why. “We’ll have to go raid the cupboards and find out. I’m not certain.”

“How can you not be sure if you have chocolate?” They walked out of the nursery and left the door open so they could hear Ana if she woke.

“I’m not accustomed to raiding my kitchen at odd hours.”

“I guess that’s why you have washboard abs and I don’t.” Her eyes were trained meaningfully on his bare torso. Her complete lack of guile amused him, and aroused him. She didn’t try to hide her open appraisal of him. And yet, it was different than the sort of open gazes he was used to seeing. There was no extra motive with Paige, only admiration.

He looked back at her, treating her to the same, intense study she’d treated him to. Her T-shirt molded to her breasts, her pajama pants sitting low on her hips. Too baggy for his taste. He wanted to see the curves beneath. “I have no complaints about your figure.”