Page 76 of A Convenient Secret
“I didn’t know you studied accounting.” Who is this woman? Hasn’t she barely finished college?
Her cheeks warm with that pink shade that colors her tawny skin so often. “I’m not just a pretty face.”
“Obviously.”
She jumps up like I zapped her with an electric current.
A part of me hopes she will leave, but instead she meanders around the office. She is wearing a shawl-like cardigan instead of a sweatshirt tonight. As she reaches for a book, the fabric slips from her shoulder, revealing a thin strap of a tank top.
My cock doesn’t twitch; it fucking grows hard like she’s just stripped in front of me. I stifle a groan.
She frowns, looking at me over her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
I guess I didn’t stifle that groan. I want to walk over and push the flimsy cardigan up her shoulder, but how many times can she see my erection before she realizes she is not safe with me?
“I’m good. You?” My conversation skills are top game tonight.
“I’m strangely calm, given that I just got myself a fiancé, no ring. In two days I’ll have a husband, no wedding. I was technically the one who proposed… I’m living every girl’s dream.” She giggles, pulling her garment up and wrapping it around her torso. “Besides, I’m probably committing a felony, and I’ll be a divorcee before the age of twenty-six.”
This woman wants to save my children from their unstable, narcissistic mother, and in return I crush her dreams. Fuck. “I’m sorry.”
It’s not a lie. I vow to make sure she doesn’t regret this, to improve her life in every possible way. Because I truly am sorry for her sacrifice.
Not enough to do the right thing.
“Oh, don’t be. I’m getting a dashing, rich husband out of it.” She winks. It’s sexy as hell.
Do the right thing, asshole.I pick up the papers. “Do you want me to shred this?”
“Jesus, Declan, chill. We’re doing it for the kids, and it’s just a formality. I was kidding. I have plenty of time to get my fairy-tale wedding. And knowing I helped you protect your twins makes me feel invincible, and grateful. Like I’m a good person.”
The idea of someone else giving her the fairy-tale wedding makes me see red, but I push that irrational burst to the side. “You are a good person.”
She snorts. “I wish that was true. What is all of this?” She points to the large table with my research.
She is skillfully redirecting the conversation from herself, and I play along, because I’m not ready to find out why she would claim not to be a good person. There will be time for that later. Or perhaps not. Perhaps she’ll leave my life soon, and this will only be a memory.
A painfully tantalizing snapshot in time.
“Research for a family tree.”
She looks at the mess on the table with renewed curiosity. “Your family tree?”
“No. Mine has been done by my grandfather. Genealogy was his passion. I used to help him, and somehow it grew into my hobby as well. That is actually his table. My father enjoyed piecing family histories together too. Now they’re both gone, and I moved the table here. I do most of my research online, but I like that connection with Grandpa and Dad.”
She smiles at me with a gaze full of fascination. “This is the only messy surface in your house. I like it.”
“It’s not messy. It’s an organized chaos.”
She tilts her head to the side, still smiling at me, like everything I’m saying is interesting. Fuck, she is killing me. It’s one thing when she is drawing—unknowingly—my darkest desires from me, but stroking my vain ego… How will I survive this vixen?
“So whose tree is this?” She picks up an old black-and-white photo and studies it.
“A woman from Miami. I take on projects for others, since our family has been charted several branches wide.”
“That is so cool. You help these people uncover their stories.”
I stand up and walk over, my dick finally half-mast only. I step into her private space and revel in her quickened breath. She turns to me, dropping the photo.
