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She smiled. “That’s more like it. Which one would you like?”
Izzy dropped to her knees in front of her miniature bookcase and selected a book about a fairy princess who lost her way home. For some reason, this caused a twinge in Bex’s heart. As a single parent, she’d always hoped she did enough that Izzy wouldn’t ever feel lacking compared to other families, but sometimes she wondered if, by running from her past, she’d done her daughter wrong. Would she one day be upset to know that Bex had kept her from her father?
Izzy wriggled beneath the covers, and Bex slid in beside her, leaning against the wall. “You ready?”
Izzy scooched further down, rolled onto her side, tucked her knees up to her chest, and nodded. Pure affection diffused from Bex’s center outward. Curled up like that, her daughter looked tiny and fragile, completely unlike the little dynamo she actually was. Sometimes, it was easy to forget how small she was, and how vulnerable.
Izzy fidgeted. “Mum, come on! Start the story already!”
And then she went and said something like that, and Bex wanted to cuff her over the head. “Patience is a virtue, Iz.” She opened the book, which had crinkled edges from being handled too much—Izzy loved the illustrations—and began. “Once upon a time, in a fairy kingdom a long way away, lived a kindhearted and generous fairy princess named Anna.”
“What was the kingdom called?” Izzy interrupted.
Bex shushed her. “Let me tell the story, sweetheart.” She lowered her voice, adopting a more soothing tone, and continued, “Anna was beloved by the entire kingdom of Ellesia. One day, she was out touring the villages when an old lady stopped to ask her for help.”
Ten minutes later, Bex quietly closed the book and listened to the gentle rhythm of Izzy’s breathing. She was asleep. Setting the book aside, Bex eased down to lie beside her, draping an arm over her narrow waist. She closed her eyes and allowed the constant rise and fall of Izzy’s chest to comfort her. Her thoughts traveled back to Michael, and she wondered if he’d already called Wesley to share his suspicions. The possibility was like an icy fist clenching around her heart.
There had been a time when she’d trusted Michael, but those days were past. When it came down to it, he’d thrown his lot in with his family, even though he’d spent half his life trying to set himself apart from Wesley, who’d been the golden child. In his parents’ eyes, her ex could do no wrong. Michael, on the other hand, constantly fell short. It was strange how skewed their perception of him was, considering he’d earned a position as principal of a private boys school by the time he was thirty—successful by most people’s standards. That didn’t equate to much in the Briggstons’ eyes. She’d initially believed Michael didn’t care, but during a quiet moment at the only Christmas Bex had shared with them, he’d admitted it bothered him. Despite that, he never seemed able to say no to his brother. Did he still possess that weakness when it came to Wesley?
I’m a good mother, she reminded herself.I raised Izzy well and no one can take her away from me. Not even Wes.
Except that wasn’t strictly true. A niggling voice in the back of her mind reminded her that, as far as the law was concerned, Wesley had the right to be part of Izzy’s life. What’s more, the Briggstons had the financial resources to challenge her for custody if they decided they wanted to, and she could see how a court would side with the wealthy and influential family of a politician over her. After all, she was a single mum who worked three jobs and lived in an apartment attached to a gym. The contrast was extreme. But for once in her life, she prayed that Wesley would behave as the politician he was and continue to ignore her or sweep them under the rug.
Never hada morning passed more slowly. The minutes crawled by as Michael reviewed the school budget and a wish list of equipment helpfully compiled by Andy Hollister—noting the discrepancies in what the school could afford versus what they wanted. He checked the clock every few minutes, waiting for Bex’s class to let out so he could talk to her about last night. It was impossible to keep his mind on the job, and more than once he caught himself staring into space and mulling over his astonishing discovery.
He had a niece. Of that, he was ninety-five percent certain. And, because of her existence, he had to reevaluate his opinion of the girl’s mother. All these years, he’d believed Bex had sold out and given up the baby she’d seemed desperate to keep, for the sake of a fat bank check. He’d resented her because he’d believed she’d stand strong in the face of his family’s opposition regardless of whether he could openly support her—which had seemed like a poor idea given that facing off against his family would probably raise suspicion when it came to his feelings. But she’d proved him wrong and crumpled beneath the pressure. In his view, she’d shown him exactly how mistaken he’d been about her when he thought she was someone worth loving, and he couldn’t believe he’d been on the verge of destroying his relationship with his brother by coming clean about his crush. Surely that’s all it could have been. An infatuation. One he’d clearly lost his mind over. The guilt of what he’d almost done had nearly eaten him whole. Thank God no one had ever known.
But now he felt strangely vindicated. He hadn’t misjudged Bex. She may not have taken the route he thought best, but she’d obviously done what she believed she had to. Unfortunately, in light of the truth, a devil appeared on his shoulder, reminding him that the reasons he’d never acted on his attraction to Bex no longer applied. She wasn’t with his brother, and she wasn’t a sellout. But still, it was messed up for him to contemplate making a move on the mother of Wesley’s baby.
Brotherly love didn’t stop Wes from stealing Penelope. You don’t owe him anything.
He shook the thought off. There was a difference between his girlfriend leaving him for his brother, and Michael knowingly romancing a woman who was keeping a secret of this magnitude from his family. Besides, why would she even want him? Yes, they’d been friends, but she’d been with Wesley, and it was no secret that people generally preferred Wesley to Michael. Just because he’d once ached to touch Bex’s soft skin and watch fire spark in her warm brown eyes didn’t mean she’d ever felt the same. She’d never crossed a line with him, which had only made him respect her more.
His phone buzzed, reminding him that he had two minutes before class ended, and he left his office and headed toward her classroom, arriving just as the bell rang. A low murmur started as the students talked among themselves and packed their bags, then they were filing past him, some saying hi, others averting their gazes and hunching their shoulders forward. For his part, he tried to appear stern but approachable. Being principal wasn’t an easy gig. He’d gotten into teaching because he adored children and wanted to play his part in improving the education system, but sometimes he had to be the bad guy, and balancing that with his natural inclination to help wasn’t easy.
When the room emptied, he paused in the threshold, looking in. Bex sat at her desk, her face buried in her hands and her shoulders slumped. She looked exhausted, and he didn’t like it. He must have made a sound because she glanced up and he caught a glimpse of vulnerability in her eyes before she slammed her shields down. She shot to her feet, the movement drawing his attention to long, slender legs encased by black denim. He almost groaned. Thank God none of his teachers had looked like her, or he’d never have accomplished anything.
“Michael,” she said stiffly.
He didn’t waste time on niceties, knowing she’d find a way to flee if he did. “We should talk about last night.”
She folded her arms across her chest, which had the unfortunate side effect of propping up her breasts.Don’t look, pervert. You’re here for Wesley’s sake, nothing more.Actually, scratch that, he was here for Izzy’s sake too. The girl deserved to have a father in her life.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“If that were true, you wouldn’t be so defensive.” He moved closer, taking care to go slowly so she wouldn’t scratch his eyes out or knee him in the groin. Bex wasn’t the type of woman to run from a fight.
Well, he amended, thinking of the daughter she’d stolen away,not usually.
“I want to know more about Isobel.”
She stayed behind the desk, keeping it between them, her entire body rigid with tension. “I have nothing to say to you. Izzy is none of your business, and as far as I’m concerned, everything we agreed to on Monday morning stands. You keep out of my way, I’ll keep out of yours, and we interact only when we’re required to for the job.”
Briefly, he closed his eyes, then took a deep breath and begged the universe for patience. She was being purposefully difficult. He should have expected nothing less. Bex was as stubborn as they came—a trait he’d previously found attractive.
“I really think we ought to be open about this,” he said, keeping his tone level. “From my perspective, it appears that Isobel is my niece, and I can’t ignore that. Surely you understand.”
Bex’s eyes flashed and she closed the remaining distance between them to jab him in the chest with a finger. Hard. Her touch burned like scalding iron, and he flinched away from it, unprepared for his body’s reaction to her. He wanted to grab her hand and keep it there. To haul her closer and discover how well her long legs aligned with his.
