Page 17 of Worth Every Risk

The net worth of the company varies depending on the source, but it’s somewhere between ten and twelve billion. Their father heads up the New York office, but here in London, there are three brothers, all in their thirties; Nico, the eldest, then Matt, who I’ve worked out is thirty-five, and a younger brother, Seb. There are some incredible genes knocking around that family if the photos online are anything to go by, because all of them are drop-dead gorgeous. Like movie stars. And the ex-wife… wow, she’s got to be one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen off the red carpet. Absolutely perfect features and long blonde hair. But in all the photos together, she and Mr Hawkston look miserable. No wonder they got divorced. They couldn’t even fake it for the cameras.

I dreamt about Mr Hawkston last night too. It’s hardly surprising given how long I researched him before I fell asleep. I tried to remember the details when I woke, but once my eyes were open, all that lingered was the sense of having done something wrong. Like I’d accidentally caught a glimpse of my boss in the shower.And what a sight that would be.

Mr Hawkston gives almost nothing away. He’s harder to read than anyone I’ve ever met. And somehow I’m still convinced there’s a man worth knowing behind the icy facade. Not that it makes a difference, because he let me know pretty clearly that I’m the staff and he’s the boss, and that’s the only relationship we’ll have. Every time he mentioned professional boundaries, it felt like he was hitting my knuckles with a ruler. Or maybe putting me over his lap and spanking me for disobedience.Naughty, Aries.

Suddenly, Mum’s voice sounds in my head.You have a connection…

I wish she hadn’t said that. Planting seeds in my mind. Who knows what that one sentence could grow into? I’ll have vines and weeds sprouting up all over the place. I mentally chop them all down and then focus my full attention on Lucie, reprimanding myself for being distracted by thoughts of her father yet again.

When we get downstairs, Mr Hawkston is standing in the hall, wearing a casual collared shirt and jeans. Not ripped ones this time. He’s so distractingly good-looking that my steps falter. Lucie glances at me, checking I’m still standing. I smile to reassure her, trying not to melt as her father’s gorgeous dark eyes take me in with the briefest of sweeps—so brief it’s dismissive—before settling on his daughter.

My gaze settles on him a lot longer. His shirt, a pale blue and white striped cotton one, is open at the neck, sleeves rolled to the elbow. There are lines of muscle that run the length of his forearms, and on one wrist he wears a heavy-looking watch. The strap is thick, chocolate brown leather and the face is large. If I was a watch woman, I’d know what brand it is. I’m not and I don’t, but there’s something about the way he wears it that is undeniably sexy, as if somehow, this man might have time under his control.

I’m three steps away from him when the smell hits me: a wall of exotic cologne. It’s layered and delicate and masculine and mouth-wateringly delicious all at once. It’s like the best parts of a forest on a warm summer’s day, if that forest also included a high-end spa full of half-naked men.

Half-naked men?Where did that thought come from? Was it last night’s dream?

I take the final steps towards Mr Hawkston as a hot blush creeps over my face. One of the worst things about mycomplexion is that my embarrassment or discomfort is scrawled over my cheeks in the form of an aggressively red blush. I once watched an episode of a TV show where the woman went beetroot red if the guy she fancied came anywhere near her. I’m pretty sure she went to hospital for treatment.

My face is so hot right now, I feel like her.

Fortunately, Mr Hawkston hasn’t looked back at me since that first eye-sweep. He’s crouching with his arms open, and Lucie’s running towards him, squealing. It’s as if she hardly ever sees him. Just how unusual is it for this man to spend a whole day with his daughter?

He hugs her, then, still crouching, looks over her head at me. “Ready?”

“Daddy, Daddy, do you like my hair? Ariel did it.”

Twin furrows appear between his brows. “You should call her Aries. That’s her name.”

Lucie folds her lips in on one another. She looks upset to be reprimanded, and I feel the urge to speak up on her behalf.

“I don’t mind.”

“I mind.” Mr Hawkston cuts across me. “Your name is Aries.”

My teeth tug against my bottom lip.God, this man is severe. “Okay.”

“Do you like it though, Daddy?” Lucie repeats, touching her plaited hair, clearly desperate to keep her father’s attention for just a moment longer.

“It’s great,” he replies, but the tone is dismissive and Lucie knows it.

There’s a crackling tension in the air, and I don’t understand why.Is he angry about something?

“Are you sure you want me to come?” I check. “If you already had the day—”

“I said so, didn’t I?” His tone is sharp.

“Yes. Sorry.”

He does the tiniest chin shift to acknowledge my apology, then smiles at Lucie, and this time his full attention is on his daughter. “Ready, champ?”

She grins and slips her little hand into Mr Hawkston’s larger one before we head out.

We arrive at the Natural History Museum when the doors open, so we don’t have to queue. Lucie is clinging to Mr Hawkston’s hand as we step inside the huge vaulted main chamber, and she stares up at the enormous whale skeleton.

He crouches beside her, pointing up at the bones, and whispering in her ear. She giggles and leans into him, and he catches her weight, his large forearm wrapped around her waist. Seeing him tend to his daughter this way makes him even more attractive. She’s so happy to have his attention that I linger back, not wanting to intrude.

Why am I here at all? They planned this day together. Wouldn’t it have been better to leave it that way? I wouldn’t have minded, and from what Alec said, Mr Hawkston doesn’t make much time for his kids. As it is, I feel a bit like a third wheel.

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