Page 49 of Daddy Down Under

As I wrenched open the door, I caught a glimpse of myself in the ornate mirror. Disheveled, wide-eyed, a far cry from the composed businessman I projected to the world. For a moment, I hesitated, Ocean’s gentle voice echoing in my mind.

But the shame was too overwhelming. What had I done? What would Ocean think? How could I face him—or myself—after this?

I slipped out of the room, the door closing behind me with a soft click that felt deafeningly final. I jabbed at the elevator button repeatedly, willing it to arrive faster. When the doors finally opened, I stumbled inside, sagging against the mirrored wall. The warm night air hit me like a slap as I burst out of the Queen Victoria Hotel. Melbourne’s CBD stretched before me, a maze of lights and shadows. I had no idea where I was going, only that I needed to get away.

My feet carried me forward, each step putting more distance between me and what had happened in that room. But I couldn’t outrun the storm of emotions raging inside me.

Shame. Confusion. And underneath it all, a traitorous whisper of longing. The lingering ache, the way I’d melted under Ocean’s firm hand and gentle praise. I’d craved it, needed it in a way that terrified me.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Ocean. I let it ring, torn between the urge to answer and the desire to keep running.

“Fuck,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “What now, Cash? What the hell do you do now?”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

In which I finally tell Ocean the truth and discover a truth of my own.

With a soft bleep,the door to the presidential suite opened. My heart pounded, each beat a thunderous reminder of the conversation to come because no doubt Ocean had some questions. Questions he’d demand answers to. How angry would he be? I hesitated at the threshold of the living room, my hand gripping the ornate doorframe as if it could anchor me against the storm of emotions threatening to pull me under.

Ocean’s eyes locked onto mine the moment I entered. He sprang up from the plush velvet armchair where he’d been waiting, relief washing over his features. In three long strides, he crossed the room, stopping just short of embracing me. His body was coiled with tension, his stance protective as he hovered close.

“Cash. I was so worried. Are you okay?”

I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice. “I… I’m sorry for taking off.”

“It was a lot to process.”

“Too much. I…panicked.”

He reached for my hand, and I let him take it. His thumb circled the back of my hand. “I figured as much.”

“You’re not angry?”

He slowly shook his head. “I can see why you freaked out.”

“I wouldn’t call it freaking out. It was more like…” I sighed as I had to face the inevitable truth. “Yeah, I was freaking out.”

“I understand.”

“You seem remarkably okay with all of it.”

His lips curled up in one of those sexy smiles that made my insides go all soft and fluffy. “I’m not the one who was freaking out, or who had to process something this impactful. Pun intended.”

I snorted despite everything, and tension drained from my shoulders. “Good one.”

He looked mighty pleased with himself. “I thought so too.” Then his face grew serious again. “I know I’m asking a lot, but can we talk about what happened?”

It would be easy to tell him I was too tired, that I had to get up early for work and all that crap. And he’d accept it. For now. But sooner or later, he’d either force me to have this conversation…or he’d walk out. And that thought made it hard to breathe, which was one of the conclusions I’d come to as I aimlessly wandered Melbourne’s streets.

I wanted to tell him. It scared the living daylights out of me to make myself this vulnerable, but I wanted to tell him. Maybe if I said the words, if I explained it, the hold my past had over me would lessen. Maybe Ocean could help me change and become less…needy. “Yes, we can talk.”

Relief filled his expression. “Thank you.”

He gestured toward the plush sofa and we sat next to each other.

“Would you like me to continue holding your hand?” Ocean asked, and I wanted to cry with relief.

“Yeah, that’d be… I’d like that.”

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