Page 95 of Worth Every Risk

I point at Seb. “When he stops f—” I catch myself on the cusp of swearing, biting back the expletive. “Winding me up, I’ll be just fine. I need a coffee.”

Seb raises both hands like he’s under fire. “Don’t put your shit on me. This is all you.”

Nico shakes his head, walks around the table, and offers his hand to Lucie. “Come on, grab your croissant. We’re going to go stand at the bow and yell about being King of the World.”

Lucie nods, a little hesitant, but Nico curls his fingers in encouragement, and she slips her tiny hand in his. “Okay. But I don’t want to be a king,” she says. “I want to be a Princess.”

Nico smiles. “You can be whatever you want. Let’s go.”

Relief spills through me as Nico and Kate walk my little girl along the deck, letting her pretend to be a princess, and giving her a little bit of magic all kids deserve, which I seem incapable of delivering.

They each take one of her hands and begin to count, “One… Two... three…” and on ‘wheee’ they swing her between them and she squeals, and then giggles, calling, “again, again.”

Everyone, it seems, is better at this parenting thing than I am.

27

ARIES

How does a perfect morning take such a turn? I woke up in the arms of my handsome boss, feeling a little sleep-deprived but otherwise entirely sated, and dare I say it…happy,only to start work and find out his teenage son has clearly been beaten up, and overhearing his brother referring to me as little more than a slutty employee…

If he wants to get his nuts off with the staff, why not let him fuck the nanny? At least she’s hot.

…to being sworn at by said boss in front of his four-year-old daughter and his brothers. How can he be the same man who kissed me so tenderly earlier?

I was really starting to believe that maybe Matt and I could have something real. Somethingmore than passion and breathlessness and orgasms that you can walk away from when the night is over.

I scratch Mum’s words about love from my mind and thump on Charlie’s door, the sting in my palm after I hit the wood signalling I’m hitting a bit too hard, but I don’t care.

“What?” Charlie’s voice comes from the other side of the closed door.

“You need to come to breakfast.” All the frustration of my morning rakes through my tone, making my voice sound screechy. “We’re going to the beach.”

“I’ll stay here. I don’t want to visit the beach. I fucking hate sand.”

I swallow down my irritation at him dismissing Matt’s carefully made plans so easily and change tack, leaning closer against the door and speaking more softly. “Can I come in?”

“No.”

“Charlie, please let me in. I need to know what happened.”

“No you fucking don’t.”

I heave a sigh and slump against the door. “Charlie—”

“Fuck off.”

Right, that’s enough for one morning. I am done taking other people’s bullshit.“Do not talk to me that way. If you don’t open this door, I’m going to get your father and bring him down—”

The door swings open, revealing a fully dressed Charlie, face like thunder, eyes glowering. “It was rugby. Bad tackle.”

“Rugby? In the summer term?” I might not be particularly athletic, but even I know rugby’s a winter sport.

“Yes. Rugby. I practise with a group in the morning. I’m not very good, so I always take the hits. That’s it.”

“Charlie, be serious. You look like you’ve been beaten up. And on more than one occasion. You need to talk to me. Whoever’s doing it knows what they’re doing because they haven’t touched your face. Don’t collude in this. Who is it?”

He glares at me, and the hope that I might break through to him begins to ebb. Then, all of a sudden, he relents. “Older boys. They’ve left now. This was their last term. Please don’t tell Dad. I’ll never see them again.”

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