Page 23 of Dancing With Guilt

He wouldn’t have forced her to marry him, but he’d have asked. He’d have done whatever was necessary to protect her and his child. His child. Every time he thought those words, he got chills. There was a small soul out there that was his.

A buzz of his phone and he saw he had a text message from Tanya, one of his PAs.

Monica says she’s at this address. The address followed. It belongs to that guy Nick she’s been seen with before.

“Well, fuck.” Lincoln said out loud, pissed at himself. He’d driven her to run to that guy again.

Lincoln couldn’t help but roll his eyes at his own stupidity. Of course, she’d hide in one of that guy’s places. Where else would she go?

From Monica’s previous reports, this Nick guy owned a lot of property, had enough money to run his own kingdom for generations to come, and was more than capable of providing security that could keep even Lincoln from getting anywhere near Roxie. Which was probably for the best, for now.

He needed time to think, alone. He needed to get his head around all of this. Alone. Picking up a six-pack of beer from the fridge, Lincoln walked out to the beach, headed for the sun lounger with his light blue bathrobe flowing around his legs. He didn’t give a fuck if anyone saw him in his boxer shorts and robe. He needed to think, and this was where he did it best. Cracking open the first bottle top of many, Lincoln settled in to watch the ocean until it gave him an answer.

A week passed before he finally made a decision. He needed to talk to Roxie. He wasn’t angry anymore; he was just resolved to do what was right. He thought about shaving but decided not to. Fuck it. A shower was enough. And clean clothes, of course.

He sent her a text message, asking to meet up with her.

She answered back after a half-hour, with an address to a café near the condo. Good. She was willing to talk to him at least. He drove to the place, parked, and went to find a table. Roxie was already seated, dressed in a blue maxi dress with a denim jacket on over it.

She looked as beautiful as always, but her eyes were hidden behind aviator sunglasses, despite the overcast sky. She was still hiding from him then.

Lincoln wore a pair of dark blue slacks, a white button-up top, but the blazer that went with the suit was snagged over his shoulder by a finger. He kept his sunglasses on too. “Thanks for agreeing to see me.”

“It’s the least I could do,” she responded, not getting up to greet him. But then, why would she, he reminded himself.

“How are you doing?” He asked once a waiter came and took his order for a cappuccino.

“I’m fine, Lincoln. What are we doing here?” She asked, her leg bouncing with unhidden impatience.

“I thought we should talk.” He paused, noting how she sat back, further away from him. That stung, but he shouldn’t expect anything less.

“About what? About how you plan to take my daughter from me for good?” Her eyebrows peeked out from the top of her shades, making her point. She was pissed and that was one big clue.

“No. Yes. Fuck, Rox, please? Let me explain.” He went quiet as the waiter brought his coffee, waiting until the man was gone before he spoke again. “Tell me about her, please?”

“She loves ballet, like her mommy. And piano like her dad,” Roxie said blankly, but then her lips twitched. “She’s always putting on plays she’s written and loves talking to me on video calls. I see her at Christmas, her birthday, and when I can during the school holidays. I don’t get back to New York often enough to see her, but that’s for her own good.”

“So she won’t get too close to you?” Lincoln asked, a little snottier than he planned to.

Her frown made him wince.

“So I won’t expose her to anything bad that might follow behind me, you asshole,” Roxie hissed once she’d leaned forward, the angry purse of her lips probably not as deadly as her eyes were. It was good she still had those sunglasses on.

“Sorry, I deserved that.”

“You did. Oh, she plays the violin as well,” Roxie mentioned, leaning back, not quite relaxed but not on the verge of clawing his eyes out now. “Really well. She plays so beautifully it brings tears to my eyes.”

“I want to get to know her,” he said hesitantly, not wanting to set her off again, but he wanted to make his intentions clear. “She deserves to know who her father is.”

Roxie didn’t say anything for a long time. “If you take her, make me one promise, Lincoln? As her mother, as someone you used to care about, please do one thing for me?”

“What’s that?” He said, not committing to anything just now.

“That you’ll take Aunt Katie with her. She knows Aunt Katie, loves her, and Katie adores Lily. Separating them might be even worse than taking me from her permanently. She’d hate you forever if you took Katie from her too. I promise you that.” Roxie’s words shook a little but steadied as she carried on. “If you want to form any kind of bond with her, uprooting her and taking away everything she knows and loves will make sure you do the opposite.”

“I see your point,” Lincoln conceded, nodding his head. “I agree.”

“Good.”