Page 77 of Judgment

Andre

PAISLEY WALKS INTO my office, the curls in her hair all but gone and the dress she wore to dinner dragging on the floor now that her bare feet put her three inches closer to the ground.

I hang up the call I’m on, cutting Victor off mid-sentence. “Is your mother comfortable?”

“She asked if the bed was made by angels, so it seems like she’s willing to suffer through.” Paisley wipes at one of her eyes as she stifles a yawn. “She was already snoring when I left.”

“Good.” I stand from my chair. “We should go to bed too. It’s late.”

“Late passed.” This time Paisley can’t smother out her yawn. “We’ve circled back around to early.”

“All the more reason to go to sleep.” I take her arm and lead her out of my office.

I’ve spent the last hour convincing myself that the need to get Paisley into my bed is centered around nothing more than my own desire to rest. Tomorrow will be busier than I anticipated now that I need to find two shifts of nurses to sit with Paisley’s mother and arrange for the rest of their belongings to be collected.

Paisley doesn’t resist as I lead her into my room but as soon as the door is closed she peeks at me over one shoulder. “I shouldn’t have let you bring us here.” There’s no anger in her voice, only resignation.

I step in at her back, sweeping her hair to one side. “I disagree.”

“Of course you disagree. This is what you wanted from the beginning.” She tips her head to one side. “You won.”

“This isn’t about winning, Paisley.” I find the tab of the zipper holding her in the dress and ease it down.

Her head tilts toward me, blue eyes watching me from under her lashes. “What’s it about then?”

My hand stalls out for a second before I finish lowering the zipper. “Not about winning.”

I don’t want to consider my motivations right now.

Because I’m not sure they’re what they should be.

My position in The Association is all that should matter to me. Protecting it is supposed to be my only goal.

And it is.

For the most part.

Paisley’s gaze follows my hands as they skim along her shoulders, pushing the red sequined fabric down her arms. “Thank you for being so careful with my mom.”

She says it like she believes I might have considered the alternative. “I’m not a monster, Duchess.”

I’ve seen how she looks at her mother.

I’ve witnessed the lengths she’s willing to go to in order to get her the treatment she believes will save her life.

But none of that is why I will always be careful with the woman sleeping in my guest room.

Paisley spins my way, the dress sliding to the floor as she turns, her eyes immediately on mine. “That’s not what I meant.” She reaches for me, hesitating a little before resting her palm on my chest. “You’re many things, Andre, but I don’t think a monster is one of them.” She smooths her hand over my shirt, her fingers coming to toy with the top button. “I just wanted you to know how much it meant to me that you didn’t let anyone else carry her.” She flips the button loose. “Not that I think they would have hurt her, but I don’t trust them the way I trust you.”

“Trusting me might not be a smart move, Duchess.” I can’t look away from her face as she moves down to the next button and works it free.

“I thought that too at first.” Another button pops from its hole. “But then I started paying attention to what you do instead of what you say.”

“I’m not a good man, Paisley. Don’t try to see what you want to see.”

“I didn’t say you were good.” She dips her fingers into the opening she’s made, skimming the tips over my skin. “I just said I trusted you to take care of my mother.”

“She’s important to you.” I don’t want her to get this anymore skewed than it already is. “And it’s important to me to keep you happy so you will continue to give me what I want.”

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