Page 44 of Contracted and Claimed By The Boss

So much so that the thought of leaving in a little over two months’ time made her heart turn to ice.

It was one too many departures.

One too many goodbyes.

A single tear rolled down her cheek and she was so grateful her back was turned, that she was staring, troubled, out at the bay, rather than facing Max and this disaster head-on.

‘For God’s sake, Paige. Have I done something to hurt you?’ There was desperation in his plea, as though hurting her would be the worst thing in the world.

She closed her eyes on a wave of unmitigated sadness. He really had no idea. And why should he? Nothing in his behaviour had been at fault. He had every right to book this trip, to expect his child’s nanny to accompany him. He had every damned right.

The problem wasn’t Max, it was Paige. She’d started to want more from him than he’d ever offered, to want the same protectiveness he gave Amanda to extend around Paige too. In the middle of the mess that was her personal life, she’d wanted Max to wrap his broad arms around her, to care for her, to show her that she could actually trust someone else with her heart, and even her life. She’d wanted him to realise the risks and discomfort to Paige, in joining him on this trip, and to factor that into his plans. To think about her, not as a nanny, or someone he was sleeping with, but as a woman he truly cared about.

He’d failed her, and he didn’t even realise it, because her expectations were so wildly out of step with the reality of their dynamic. He’d failed her by not being what she needed—and she hated that she needed anything from him at all. He hadn’t done anything wrong, and yet he’d hurt her.

Paige had come to Australia to run away from her old life, and now she wanted to run away from what she’d found in Australia: her own fallibility.

Her heart was vulnerable.

She was capable of loving, of wanting to be loved. It had just taken the right person—people—to make her see that.

‘Damn it.’ He was right behind her, his hands on her arms, turning her to face him, his eyes raking over her face, desperate to see, to understand, to know what had upset her, but Paige couldn’t answer him, because all the answers were flying at her thick and fast and it was an answer she could never give him anyway, because she’d broken faith: she’d promised him she could be trusted, that everything would be fine, and, in the end, she’d lied.

Because despite what she’d told him, Paige loved Max.

Looking up into his eyes now, she saw it as clear as day. Every kiss, every moment, every conversation that had bared her soul to him and vice versa, Paige had been falling unknowingly in love.

It shocked and terrified her.

She lifted a hand to her lips, pressing it there, her eyes smarting from the tears she was desperately trying to hold in check.

‘Paige?’ But he was angry now, frustrated with not being able to understand. ‘Has something happened? Is there something more going on? Is it the book?’

She shook her head quickly. ‘It was the book. Sort of. I was—I was—’

‘You were what?’

He groaned, and he was so close to her, so achingly close, that everything seemed both complicated and simple at the same time.

‘Just—forget about it,’ she whispered, lifting up onto her tiptoes and kissing him. It was a kiss that obliterated thought and sense and all the parameters of the world as Paige had perceived them because she felt love. She felt it radiate through her body, permeate her soul, fundamentally change who she was. She was losing herself, just as she’d always been terrified of, but she didn’t know if she minded, she only knew she couldn’t stop. Not then. She couldn’t walk away from him. From this.

It was all her worst fears come to bear but surrendering now was also the most sublime form of completion she’d ever, ever known.

It didn’t sound, on paper, like something that should have bothered him, but the next morning, with Paige back to ignoring him, Max couldn’t shake the feeling she’d used sex to avoid having a heavier conversation. That rather than explain to him why she was upset, she’d pushed their chemistry to the fore, and he’d let her. Hell, he’d needed her. He’d been driven mindless with missing her, wanting her. They’d made love and it had been so perfect, different, somehow, from before, perhaps because of whatever was going on with her. Or maybe it was because he’d had to reckon with how much he loved being with Paige when she’d become unavailable to him; her absence had made him grapple with how used to her he’d become. When she’d pulled away, he hadn’t enjoyed it.

But they had more than two months left before her contract ended and, far from resenting the necessity of a nanny, he was praying his thanks to every god that existed for the fact she’d be with them for so long.

They would fly back to Australia the following day, and everything would go back to normal. It was the thought he comforted himself with throughout the day, whenever he’d look at Paige and she’d determinedly avoid making eye contact with him.

Everything would be normal again soon. He didn’t want to analyse why that thought reassured him so much...

Paige’s fingers shook as she sent the email, and the moment it whooshed out of the computer and into the ether her stomach dropped to her toes and she angsted over whether she’d just made a colossal mistake.

She was running away again.

She was scared, and she was leaving, because she didn’t know how to stay and fight. Because she couldn’t. She couldn’t fight for a future with Max. He’d told her it wasn’t possible, and while she might have hoped he’d changed his mind, as she had, she couldn’t bear to think of what his rejection would feel like. Another rejection, but this one so much worse than any other. It would be the straw that broke the camel’s back—or at least, broke Paige.

And so she would leave.

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