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‘Still not good enough,’ he said, pulling his hand out of his pocket. The purpose in his gaze became all-consuming as his thumb skimmed down her burning cheek.
Her breath hitched painfully, her senses going haywire as the light touch inched down to sweep across her collarbone and glide over the upper swell of her breast. But, unlike four nights ago, this time she found the strength to brush his hand away, no matter how much she still yearned for his touch. ‘Don’t touch me, Brandon, it doesn’t help.’
But he only laughed, the gruff chuckle as bitter as it was commanding. ‘Really?’ he murmured. ‘Your body says otherwise.’
‘So what?’ she said, determined to be the woman she’d become over the last five years—strong, smart, brave—instead of that foolish girl again.
This situation was more than complicated, and combustible enough without them stoking the madness. And succumbing to it again would only leave her more vulnerable. More at his mercy.
The sharp knock at the door had him finally breaking eye contact.
He swore and raked his fingers through his hair as Lacey wrapped her arms tightly around her midriff to hold in the throbbing ache, the devastating yearning.
Don’t let him intimidate you or bring that girl out of hiding. Not again.
She sat, her knees turning to water as he stalked back behind his desk to sit down too.
‘Mr Cade, there’s been a development,’ his assistant said as he rushed into the room.
‘What development?’ Brandon asked, and Daryl—usually so composed and professional—flushed, then handed him a smartphone.
‘I just got this message from a reliable source at Drystar Media Group,’ he said, mentioning a publishing company that Lacey knew owned a host of tabloid titles globally.
Brandon’s expression tensed, his jaw hardening as Daryl continued. ‘Apparently, they’re going to run the story tomorrow across all their US titles.’
‘How the hell did they get this information?’ The suppressed rage in Brandon’s voice made Lacey stiffen.
‘I should go,’ Lacey said, standing up, suddenly desperate to escape.
But, before she could move, Brandon’s gaze flicked to her. ‘Stay put,’ he commanded in a strident tone which instantly put her back up. But then his gaze softened slightly. ‘This concerns you too.’
What? How?
‘We don’t know. It may have been a leak at the DNA test facility,’ Daryl supplied.
She collapsed back into the chair.
Drystar knew about Ruby? And they were going to publish a story about her child? The horrifying implications hit her.
She’d been concerned about how their lives would change now Brandon knew of his daughter’s existence, but this...thiscould be so much worse. To have the details of her life, the circumstances of her child’s birth, splashed all over the celebrity press, dissected and pawed over by every media outlet from here to Timbuktu...
‘The angle they are going with is you as a deadbeat billionaire dad,’ Daryl continued in a pragmatic tone. ‘Who got a nineteen-year-old employee pregnant then fired her and refused to acknowledge her, let alone support his child.’
‘But that’s not true!’ Lacey gasped.
Neither Brandon nor Daryl seemed to hear her.
‘What else?’ Brandon said, not even glancing her way.
‘I spoke to Fiona in PR and Dan on the NA acquisitions team,’ Daryl added. ‘They both say it will sink the Atlanta deal, unless we get out ahead of it with an alternative narrative.’
Brandon nodded.
She could see his mind working, but had no idea what he was thinking as his gaze fixed back on her burning face.
‘Why don’t we just tell them the truth?’ she offered. ‘I can tell them you didn’t know Ruby existed until three days ago.’
But he barely acknowledged her suggestion, instead turning to Daryl again. ‘Get Marrow and the rest of the legal team back in here. And tell them we’re going with Plan B.’
