Page 11 of Worth Every Risk

I frown, averting my eyes as quickly as I can, but I’ve already taken it all in. A longing I haven’t felt for years begins to pump in my veins.Fuck, this woman is attractive.

Aries’ eyes widen and her mouth forms a small O-shape, like she noticed me noticing. A second later, water splashes her from the bath and she breaks into a beautiful smile again.

“Water stays in the bath,” she says, laughing.

“Daddy,” Lucie cries, leaning over the side with the bubbles in her cupped hands, bath water running in rivulets to the floor from her elbows. “Let me put them on you. You need a beard.”

Relenting, I kneel next to Aries, the water on the floor soaking the knees of my suit, while Lucie smears the bubbles over my chin. It strikes me that Gemma and I never did this with either of the kids… we never sat together at bath time. There’s adisconcerting rightness to being here with Aries that makes me feel as if I’ve wandered into a parallel life.

Lucie sits back, admiring her handiwork. “There we go. Now you’re like King Triton.”

“King Triton?” Aries questions. “Oh, no, look…” Aries grabs a dry flannel from the side of the bath, and before I know it, she’s wiping the bubbles from my chin. Her eyes dance with glee, until suddenly they don’t, as though she’s realised how incredibly inappropriate what she’s doing is. Her hand stills for a moment, and worry fills her expression as she raises her gaze to mine.

“What?” Lucie says.

Aries puts the flannel down on the side of the bath. “I was going to say Daddy looks much more like Prince Eric.” She smiles at Lucie. “But then again…” She tilts her head, affecting an inspection of me, more for Lucie’s benefit than mine. “He’s more like a cross between the two. Big and grumpy like Triton, but handsome like Eric. Either way…” She fixes on me now. “You have a face that looks like someone drew you.”

I’m completely at a loss with this woman. “You have no filter, do you?”

The light in her eyes dies, the width of her mouth shrinking. Her hands collapse to her lap, where she clasps them tight. I press my lips together to seal in the urge to apologise that crawls up my throat.

“What’s a filter?” Lucie says.

“It means I talk a lot of nonsense,” Aries replies, still smiling—does she ever not?—but there’s a strange sadness in her eyes that I’m sorry to see. And to think I caused it… but then, lines have already been crossed here. I’ll have to put the boundaries in place and keep them. At least she’s only here for the summer.

“Doesn’t she look like The Little Mermaid, Daddy?”

Without thinking, I let my gaze travel over Aries again, drinking her in. She might look like a Disney Princess to Lucie,but that’s not what I’m seeing. I’m seeing breasts and curves, and full lips and hair I want to wrap around my fist.A prickling heat roars to life low in my hips.The things I’d like to do to her…

Aries tilts her head to the side, and her bright eyes narrow as if she knows exactly what I’m thinking. Sparks jump between us like we’re two exposed live wires, and my body begins to tingle all over.

“We watch that movie together a lot,” Lucie continues, directing herself to Aries this time, clearly getting impatient with my lack of response. “Daddy says Ariel was the first lady he fell in love with. Before he met Mummy."

Aries gets up, reaching for a towel from the heated rail. “Then Daddy has good taste,” she states, holding the towel wide while Lucie clambers out of the bath, and then wrapping her up in it.

There’s a strange tension in the room, as if something is happening between me and Aries that neither of us has agreed to, and we’re trying to pretend it’s not there. Perhaps it’s those sparks of attraction—did she feel it too?—or perhaps it’s the uncomfortable remnants of our bizarre first encounter out in the garden. I could have stopped her making a fool of herself; I should have done, but she was so beautiful, so captivating, that I was happy to listen to her babble.

I stand and plant a chaste kiss on the top of my daughter’s head. “I’ll come and give you a kiss goodnight when you’re in bed.”

Lucie’s arms snake out from under her towel and she hugs my legs, speaking into my knees. “I love you, Daddy. I love you the most in the whole world, to infinity and beyond.”

This kid is going to make my heart melt.I definitely don’t deserve this much love. I crouch so I’m at her eye-level. She stares at me with those deep brown eyes that are mirrors of my own, and I want to tell her I love her, but it feels strange to vocalise it knowing Aries is standing right there, watching us. Idon’t know this woman, and having her watch me interact with my daughter feels far too intimate. But this isn’t about me or Aries, this is about Lucie, so I swallow down my hesitation and say the words. “Love you too. The most. In the whole, entire world.”

“In the whole entire universe?” she asks, her voice small but eager.

I break into a smile, and this time it’s 100% genuine, unencumbered by Aries watching. “The universe,” I repeat.

Lucie grins and I kiss her cheek, ruffle her wet hair and stand again.

I glance at Aries, who meets my gaze with no embarrassment whatsoever, which is impressive, given she was wiping my jaw with a flannel only five minutes ago, and she’s just listened to me telling my kid I love her. But then, maybe expressions of love aren’t weird for Aries the way they are for me. I don’t remember being told I was loved as kid, so it’s been tough to be natural about it with my own children. I’ve tried, though. “Have you eaten?” I ask Aries.

“Yes. I ate with Lucie. Lunch and dinner. Your chef is excellent.”

I give a slow nod, making sure to keep my eyes on her face, rather than the heavy weight of her breasts in the wet t-shirt. “If you’re not too tired, join me for a nightcap at nine. There are some things we need to discuss about your position.”

A flicker of something shadows her eyes. Worry, perhaps. It’s on the tip of my tongue to say something to alleviate whatever concern she’s feeling, but I don’t. That’s not my role.

“About earlier,” she says. “I should never have made all those assumptions. All my fault. I’m sorry. I was—”

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