Page 45 of An Heir For Her Enemy

Logan managed to hold out through the rest of the evening. He fielded investment offers and answered questions about the art. He made small talk about golf and yacht ownership and the difficulties of finding good help. He even ate a few hors d’oeuvres, though he couldn’t help thinking of Delaney as he did so.

He was relieved when the evening came to an end. He bid his guests farewell, then returned to the ballroom to oversee the cleanup and transport of his art. Now empty except for a few hotel staff and a team of people to pack up the art, the ballroom looked strangely barren and a little too shiny. The string quartet was packing up in the corner.

Across the room,The Cherished Infantcaught Logan’s eye. His team was already rolling out the special case that they’d use to transport the painting back to Logan’s penthouse, but Logan felt a sudden, strange need to look at the painting a little longer.

“Do you mind starting with a few of the other pieces?” he asked.

“No problem, boss.” The team headed off towards another painting and Logan turned toThe Cherished Infant.

He’d seen the painting before buying it, of course, but he’d been so distracted by Delaney’s surprising pregnancy that he hadn’t had the chance to take a good look. Now, alone in the middle of a bustling ballroom, Logan really looked at it.

He still didn’t know much about art. In his mind, this piece could have been painted by Botticelli as easily as by Michelangelo or da Vinci. He didn’t know the reasoning behind the colors the painter had chosen. He couldn’t identify the symbolism behind the shadows and sunlight in the background. He couldn’t date the painting based on the style or the materials used.

None of that matters.Delaney wasn’t here, but Logan heard the echo of her words as clearly as if she were standing next to him.What matters is how it makes you feel.

Logan tilted his head to get a new angle on the painting. He wasn’t sure how it made him feel. At first, when he’d seen pictures ofThe Cherished Infantbefore coming to Rome, he hadn’t felt anything. The painting had looked more or less like a pile of money.

Then, in Rome, when he’d seen the painting at Marco Vassallo’s house, he’d found it frightening. The painting showed a mother cradling a baby, love shining in both their eyes. Instead of the woman in the painting in her old-fashioned dress, he’d seen Delaney holding their child. Logan hadn’t been able to look long.

And now… when Logan looked at the painting now, he felt regret. He saw the love the mother and her beloved child shared. He saw the hope in the mother’s eyes — and the fulfillment. And this time, when Logan looked at the painting, he imagined the painter, too. Perhaps the painter had stood where Logan was now, committing the image of the mother and baby to canvas. Perhaps he’d felt left out. Perhaps he regretted standing behindhis easel, instead of sitting beside the woman and holding her hand.

Logan knew that he had no basis for his imaginings. More likely than not, the painter hadn’t been related to the woman and baby at all. Maybe this scene had been conjured from his imagination, not even painted from life. Yet Logan knew what Delaney would tell him if she were here: none of that mattered. What mattered was how Loganfelt.

And Logan felt regret.

Like the painter he’d imagined, he felt left out. He regretted standing behind his work instead of stepping into the scene — because that was all he’d done, all his life. Logan had always prioritized work over everything else. He’d wanted financial security. He’d wanted a legacy. Perhaps the painter had wanted the same thing, when he’d chosen to paint over be with the woman he loved.

In that moment, it was abundantly clear to Logan that he’d made a mistake. More than one. As he looked at the painting, he understood why his work had begun to feel hollow. He understood why his office and his penthouse didn’t give him the pride it used it. He understood why nothing felt the same anymore.

He needed to stepintothe painting, not look from outside. He needed to be with Delaney, in whatever way she’d have him. He needed to be a father to their child. Without his family by his side, his work would never fulfill him the way it used to. Logan had never been happier than when he explored Rome with Delaney by his side, getting lost in the winding streets, sampling pizzas, and getting caught in the rain.

Delaney had been right. Logan would never be truly happy if he cared about nothing more than making the next billion.

Logan still knew that he wasn’t ready to be a father or a partner. He had a lot to learn about how to raise a child and about how to be a reliable partner for Delaney. Yet he also knew that he would never really be ready. He hadn’t known how to invest when he’d purchased a book on day trading at the age of fifteen — and he’d managed to create a successful company in only ten years. He didn’t know how to be a father or a partner today, but if he gave it all he had, he was sure he could figure it out.

“Mr. Banks?” One of the staff appeared by Logan’s shoulder. “We’ve packed up the other pieces and need to start on this one. Is that okay?”

“Yes, of course. Sorry for the delay.” Logan stepped back and watched as they eased the painting into a large wooden crate. Before they closed it, he caught one more glimpse of the mother’s smiling face before she disappeared.

“Thank you for all your hard work,” Logan said.

“Anytime, boss.” They wheeled the painting away on a dolly. Logan felt a strange sense of loss as it disappeared. He knew now that he’d made a mistake when he’d pushed Delaney away. He also knew it might be too late to fix that mistake.

After all, he had walked away from Delaney not once, but twice, both times when she’d been vulnerable and needed him. He wasn’t sure how she could trust him now.Hewouldn’t trust him, in her position.

Logan bid goodnight to the remaining staff, called out a few more thank-yous, and headed out onto the street. A few hesitant flakes of snow drifted from the midnight sky and dissolved whenthey hit the pavement, beautiful but fleeting. Logan began to walk, his breath forming a cloud in front of him. He wasn’t sure where he was going, only that he needed time to think.

As he wandered aimlessly through the darkened streets of the city that never sleeps, a plan began to form. At first, it consisted of only a few wispy tendrils of an idea, but by the time Logan had circled his way into the financial district, he was almost certain that he could pull it off.

The only question was whether it would be enough.

CHAPTER 20

DELANEY

Delaney stared at the toy rabbit as though it might come to life and dance around the room. In front of her lay two open suitcases and three large black trash bags.

“What do you think?” Delaney asked the rabbit. “Are you coming to Italy?”

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