Page 14 of Cinderella's Secret Baby

“Thanks.” She offered Peyton.

For two thudding heartbeats, his brain couldn’t make sense of what she was doing. Then a bolt of realization struck him. He took the baby, stomach pitching because holding her was like trying to cradle a soap bubble without popping it.

Amelia walked away, and he swallowed a reflexive,Wait. Come back. What do I do?

Hunter knew to protect her neck, but that was where his familiarity with babies ended. What else were you supposed to do? Feed ’em and clean ’em and keep them from being eaten by wild animals, he supposed.

This felt a lot like holding a freshly caught fish, given her absent wiggling. The average salmon weighed more than she did, though, and they didn’t have delicate limbs that looked like they could snap in a stiff breeze.

Her wandering gaze found his, and she smiled.

Why that hit him like a kick in his chest, he couldn’t say. Maybe because that dimple high on her cheek was exactly like Vi’s. Maybe it was her oblivious joy. Her unconditional welcome at finding someone new. That smile of hers was so happy and pure it hurt to see, like looking into the sun.

Maybe it hurt because this was the moment he’d been avoiding. Holding her and seeing her forced him to acknowledge her. She was his. He didn’t need a test. He would do his due diligence, but too many things pointed to the obvious. He had made this child with Amelia.

With acknowledgment came the repercussions, all deeper than he’d been prepared to face until he had to. Here they came, though. Even as he smirked back, guilt washed through him because Amelia was right. Peytonhadbeen better off not knowing she was a Waverly. His name would impact her from now until the end of time, and all the five-star meals and chartered planes in the world couldn’t protect her from it.

His arms instinctually enfolded her in apology and a desire to protect.

As her achingly delicate weight met the wall of his chest, his heart slammed hard enough he feared he might bruise her, but his arms contracted, holding her closer still.

What the hell was happening to him? A ferocious strength was gathering in him, the kind that would step in front of a charging grizzly to protect her. At the same time, he felt so damned vulnerable a cold sweat lifted on his skin.

A few hours ago, he hadn’t even known he had created this life, but he was suddenly sick with the knowledge that life would happen to her. She would fall off swing sets and get her feelings hurt by some jerk at school. She would have a fender bender and go on spring break to Florida and face sexism and fall in love only to have her heart broken. Those bumps were inevitable, and he already couldn’t forgive himself for letting them happen to her.

She gurgled and wiggled and batted her fist against his Adam’s apple, gently hammering herself into his heart and blood and soul.

She took all the labels he had applied to himself through the years—son, brother, friend, man, CEO... Today, he had even been prepared to call himself a husband.

He had never once imagined the power and humility in calling himself afather.

He swallowed, shaken to realize he had been reacting as he did to any iceberg strike against his ship. Contain the damage, deploy a team, salvage what was valuable. Recover.

Recovery wasn’t possible. That hard truth impacted him like a brain-jarring uppercut. Peyton wasn’t a scandal to be contained. She wasn’t changing his life. She was changing him.Hehad to rise to this new role and rethink all his objectives, because his child had just become his top priority. His next steps weren’t about spinning what had happened today. They were about shaping his future and ensuring that future held plenty of room for Peyton.

And therefore Amelia.

A sensation like a shot of whiskey went straight to his gut and radiated into his pelvis.

He turned his thoughts from where they had automatically gone. Did he want to sleep with Amelia again? Sure. On a base, randy level, of course.

Sex would complicate an already complex relationship, he reminded himself, trying to cool his jets. They would share custody and he would have to make Toronto his home base so he could be more accessible to his daughter—

Unless...

He absently rubbed Peyton’s back, trying to be objective about the thought that had popped into his head. Was hetryingto completely level his life? Because a traditional wedding to someone like Eden had made sense. A spur-of-the-moment marriage to Amelia would come across as a wild impulse driven by the sort of horny passion that had motivated his father’s marriage to Irina.

Or it could be the spin that saved him from looking like a philanderer who preyed on hapless waitresses. From a practical point, moving Amelia and Peyton into his home would provide both of them the most security possible.

He would need a watertight prenup, obviously. For Peyton’s sake, they would have to make an honest effort at a real, successful marriage.

He ignored the fresh spark of heat that kindled in his lap. That’s not why he would propose. He was warming to the idea in other ways, though. It solved a lot of issues very neatly.

“Thanks,” Amelia said in a subdued voice, returning with dampness around her hairline. She came across and held out her hands.

Still raw and self-conscious at how thoroughly Peyton had reconfigured his view of himself, he gave up the baby and watched Peyton brighten and grin. She knew her mama, and it caused the envy bug to nip into Hunter. He wanted his child to react to him like that. Which meant becoming a part of her daily life.

Amelia’s expression softened briefly, but when she transferred her attention to him, she sobered, and her tone became resolved.

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