Page 30 of The Maid Married To The Billionaire

‘I wonder how she knew to come here.’

‘Apparently, Ritchie gave her the address.’

Skye lost colour, stressed by that information as she wondered what her ex-boyfriend would have said in such circumstances. About her, about the children, about her current living situation. It was an unnerving thought.

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘WHYWOULDAsocial worker be calling on you?’ Enzo enquired with a frown.

‘I foster Brodie and Shona in a kinship agreement because we’re related by blood. Obviously, there’s occasional checks to ensure I’m taking proper care of them,’ Skye pointed out absently as she helped her sister gather up her coat and bag and saw her to the front door.

When Skye emerged from her sister’s hug and closed the front door again, Enzo was still frowning at her. ‘I thought you had adopted them?’

‘That’s the ultimate goal, and I’ve applied to adopt them, but currently I’m fostering my little brother and sister under the supervision of the social services,’ Skye explained ruefully. ‘Worst-case scenario, if the authorities are not satisfied by how I’m caring for them, I could lose them.’

‘Losethem?’ Enzo repeated in evident disbelief.

‘Yes, my siblings could be taken from me and placed elsewhere with strangers, even put up for adoption.’ Pale and taut at even voicing that frightening possibility, Skye swallowed the sudden thickness in her throat and found her voice again. ‘So, naturally I’m worried when I find out that Ritchie directed the social worker here because what else may he have said or insinuated? And I’m already in the wrong for not having immediately contacted the authorities to inform them of our change of address. I intended to but I hung back because I didn’t know what best to say about us living here.’

Enzo paced the hall floor, swinging back to shoot her a troubled glance. ‘I didn’t fully understand your situation. You should have filled me in on these facts sooner.’

‘And what difference would that have made? I’ll have to admit what happened with Ritchie.’ Skye sighed with compressed lips. ‘Honesty is always the best policy.’

Skye went through to the kitchen and began to empty the dishwasher. The table and the counters and even the sink were full of dirty dishes. Alana was great with their siblings but not so keen on cleaning up. Skye smiled. She cut her sister a lot of slack on that score because she was aware that Alana dealt daily with some rich, horrendously entitled and arrogant guests in her job at the hotel and was often treated badly in her role.

Enzo retreated to his office to work, flipping open his laptop. His quick and clever brain was already assessing the likely official response to Ritchie’s violence and Skye’s current plight. Here she was in temporary employment, intimately involved with her employer and protected everywhere she went by Enzo’s security staff because of her unhinged ex-boyfriend. He gritted his teeth and suppressed a groan. None of those facts would look good for her on paper. He knew much more about such official decisions than most people in his age group. A couple of years earlier he had studied his own custody case papers, keen to understand the legal hoops and obstacles his grandparents had traversed to adopt him. When he found it impossible to suppress his concern on the children’s behalf and still work effectively, he surrendered and pondered the problem some more before deciding to consult his British lawyer.

Regrettably, that long and frustrating phone conversation told Enzo nothing he wanted to hear. His belief that he could magically sort out Skye’s situation died an immediate death when he was very politely informed that his reputation as a notorious playboy would only exacerbate her problems.

‘You could only help her by marrying her!’ His lawyer chuckled, clearly considering that possibility so far-fetched as to be hilarious. ‘Officials involved in care and custody cases look for stable relationships and financial security as a baseline.’

‘I’m not thinking of marriage,’ Enzo asserted immediately, while his agile intellect pounced on the concept and played with it, turning it round until he could come up with a more acceptable solution. The advantages of such a move piled up even quicker in his brain.

Brodie was in the bath and Skye was towelling dry Shona’s hair when Enzo strolled into the bathroom. He had already changed out of his suit into faded jeans and a dark shirt. He rolled up his sleeves, already experienced enough in the bed-and-bath routine to know that Brodie would get him wet.

‘I thought you were working. Were we making too much noise?’

‘It only gets noisy when I’m here,’ Enzo reminded her without embarrassment.

‘Enzo,’ Brodie proclaimed with a beaming smile and an attitude of deep satisfaction.

‘No splashing Enzo,’ Skye warned her little brother without much hope because Enzo was as much a fan of splashing games as the toddler.

‘No splash,’ Brodie promised obediently.

‘We’ll take them to the zoo on Saturday,’ Enzo told her cheerfully.

‘It’s a very long drive.’

‘We’ll go by helicopter then.’

Skye heaved a sigh at that careless suggestion but said nothing, striving not to criticise or seem ungrateful for the lifestyle that Enzo enjoyed. For now, they were together, she reasoned, and the children were young enough that they would not remember much about him in a few months’ time. She wondered ruefully if she would be able to say the same thing on her own behalf and prayed for a short memory. Right at that moment though, even glancing at Enzo’s bronzed profile as he grinned wickedly and capsized one of Brodie’s plastic boats, she felt as though she were riding hell for leather for a terribly steep fall. Enzo lit her up like a firework just by being in the same room.

Once the children were fed and in bed, Skye set up the dining room for dinner. She had prepared a casserole for their evening meal, striving to behave as though nothing had changed between her and Enzo when, in truth, everything had changed and she was trying to make little adjustments and avoid making a fuss. Afuss? Like asking him where they were going as a couple when obviously they weren’t going anywhere, and Enzo’s fast-approaching departure would conclude whatever they did have. In short, she was trying to be sensible, not being the woman who hoped against hope for some fairy-tale ending to suddenly pop up in front of her.

‘I’ve had an idea,’ Enzo announced over the meal.

Skye pushed her plate away and endeavoured to smother the yawn creeping up on her. Sometimes Enzo’s boundless energy was a challenge for her. He strode full tilt into every new day and attacked it like an obstacle course. He didn’t slow down as the day progressed. He didn’t seem to suffer from her insecurities and if he had worries, he either rose above them or solved them. And even more to the point, the previous night spent in his arms had exhausted her right down to the marrow of her bones.

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