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“Clara.”
Oh, thank God. It’s Demyen.
Roxy’s eyes bug out of her head and she mouths the question to me:Sugar Daddy?I roll my eyes, but nod. I’ll make the introductions in a second.
I move to answer the door, but she blows past me and carefully peers at him through only a few inches of open space. I guess that’s fair; itisher home. But I know her “ready for a fight” stance and she’s absolutely in it, all tense and ready to pounce.
Demyen doesn’t give her much of an expression, but he explains, “I heard shrieking.” He tries to look inside over her head. “Everything okay?”
Roxy sizes him up, then opens the door wider to let him in. “You must be?—”
“Demyen.” I cut her off before she calls him any sort of name he might not find humor in. “This is Demyen. Demyen, this is my best friend, Roxy.”
He gives her a polite nod, then looks to me. “I heard shrieking,” he repeats.
I blush. “Yeah. Sorry. We just got excited and all.”
He nods again. “Ready?”
Roxy tries to signal with her not-quite-blank expression that I don’t have to go with him if I don’t want to. But to be perfectly honest, I’m more on board with being surrounded by his security team and whatever cameras or alarms he has in place (becauseinsanely wealthy guys like himalwayshave all that).. .than with risking Roxy’s safety against Martin.
“Yeah,” I say, slipping my bag over my shoulder. “Lemme just grab Willow.”
“I got her.” Demyen moves to the couch and scoops her up in his arms like she doesn’t weigh a single pound. She sniffles and shifts in his arms, but tucks her head in his shoulder and nestles into his warmth.
And just like that, my heart forgets to beat.
I’ve been wrestling with my logic, scolding myself for so quickly trusting a man I’ve just met—let alone sleeping with him the first night. (And the first morning. More than once.) But seeing him cradle my little girl in his arms, seeing her accept his embrace even in sleep… It’s a snapshot of a life I’ve always wanted.
It’s an image I’ve never seen before. Certainly not with Martin.
I feel Roxy nudge me as she passes to help with the door. She sees it, too. As detached as Demyen seems to look, there’s no missing the way he’s careful with Willow, or the twitch in the corner of his mouth when she wraps a small arm around his neck.
But then he gives Roxy one more nod and ducks out the door.
“I stand corrected,” Roxy mutters when I hug her goodbye. “Emphasis ondaddy, sugar!”
I roll my eyes and stifle my laugh. “You are going to get me in trouble!”
“Girl.” She stops me from walking away to look me in the eye. “You’re already in trouble. Because that man is sex on legs, andI’d bet every one of those dollars in your bra that he’s going to be a better father in the next five minutes than Martin ever was in his whole miserable life put together.”
There goes my heart again, forgetting how to operate.
This time, it’s because I’m terrified that Roxy is right. It’s not hard to be a better father than Martin—he was never much of a father at all. If Willow forms a bond with Demyen, it will shatter her heart when we leave.
And in the meantime, I don’t know if I can resist temptation.
12
DEMYEN
This was not part of the plan.
None of this was.
But now, I’m wondering if I ever had a plan to begin with. I’m hating the fact that my brain keeps saying “no.”
The kid is snuggled up under my arm, even though she’s buckled in and the strap is digging into her shoulder. I wasn’t planning on becoming a babysitter, so I don’t have the necessary booster seat—and I’m realizing, as I adjust the seatbelt for her, that I’m going to have to make a shopping list for my staff.
