Office Scandals: The Petrelli Heir / Gilded Secrets / An Inconvenient Affair

‘Genuine!’ She almost choked over the description. ‘But I wouldn’t have taken it if I’d known … known …’

‘That you’d be living with me?’

The helpful insertion drew a gasp of horror from Izzy. ‘Live with you?’ she echoed.

Roman laughed.

‘Or have you realised that this is too big a job for you?’

She struggled not to rise to the taunt and failed miserably. ‘I’m up to the job.’ It was her dream job and he knew it. She eyed him with seething dislike before squeezing her eyes closed as she made an attempt to regain some control of the situation and herself.

‘This is a totally preposterous idea.’ The tingling on her exposed nape made her open her eyes with a snap. Her radar had not misled her. He was close, too close, and crazily as she stared up into his deep-set, mesmerising eyes with those impossibly long lashes she wanted to step into his lean, hard body.

The effort not to made her shake, though she couldn’t be sure that was the only thing making her shake. The fact was, physically he was like a narcotic to her and she had a terrible suspicion that, like any addict, one taste and she’d need a regular fix.

She dragged her gaze from his mouth, where it had drifted. Don’t taste, or look.

‘I hoped I’d be able to like you because you’re Lily’s father, but—’

‘It is not necessary that you like your employer, and, speaking of Lily, it might be a good idea to keep your voice down if you don’t want to wake her.’ His sardonic mocking smile was briefly genuine as his glance touched the sleeping baby.

He was right, not that she’d admit it, but she did lower her voice as she snapped, ‘I’m not working for you, end of story. And as for live with you, I’d prefer to live with a snake …’ Izzy stopped. ‘You’re a cold, manipulative—’

‘That’s the façade. Deep down I’m soft and fluffy.’

She flung up her hands in a gesture of frustration and, fighting an urge to smile, sprang impetuously to her feet. She took a couple of steps towards the baby carrier before twisting back and facing him, her head thrown back, her eyes darkened to emotional navy as she glared at him.

‘Do you take anything seriously?’

As if a switch had been flicked his sardonic smile was gone. He said nothing while he watched her chestnut hair bounce and settle silkily around her shoulders, then took a deliberate step towards her.

Her feet wanted to shadow the action, but she forced herself to step forward, not back, determined not to allow herself to show … fear? No, that was the wrong word. What was she feeling? What were the emotions swirling through her bloodstream? Excitement, loathing … She lifted a hand to her head, the contradictory mix making her feel light-headed. It would serve him right if she fainted. But in reality the idea of showing any weakness in front of him was terrifying.

Izzy shook her head, tuning out the distracting internal dialogue to think past the buzz in her head.

‘I take being a father very seriously.’

His voice was low, almost soft, but the lack of emphasis only intensified the emotion behind the statement, causing Izzy to feel an irrational stab of guilt.

‘And I will not be sidelined or fobbed off.’

‘And I will not be pressured,’ she threw back. ‘This isn’t about you and what you want. It’s about what is best for Lily.’

‘And that’s you?’

‘I’m her mother.’

‘And that automatically makes you the best carer for her?’ He elevated a dark brow and, shaking his head slowly from side to side, clicked his tongue in mock disapproval. ‘Isn’t that a rather sexist attitude, Isabel?’

‘I’m not being sexist, I’m stating a fact—’ She stopped abruptly mid-flow, the colour draining from her face so dramatically that he thought she was about to pass out. ‘Are you suggesting …?’ Her voice faded as jumbled images of lawyers and court hearings flashed through her head.

‘Are you talking about contesting custody?’ Legal battles did not come cheap and Roman had a lot of money. In theory she had faith in the legal system, but the thought of losing Lily made her feel hollow and more afraid than she ever had been in her life.

He opened his mouth to say he’d do whatever it took to have his daughter, then met with her stark blue gaze. Suddenly emotion kicked him hard in the chest; she looked so damned vulnerable. This situation combined with a chronic lack of sleep might have made his temper short, but Roman had never been a bully.

‘No, I’m not.’

He had seen custody battles from a spectator’s viewpoint and found them petty and distasteful. To use a child as a bargaining chip had always struck him as being abhorrent and in his new role as father he found the practice even more disagreeable.

‘But I don’t want my daughter raised to think a man’s contribution to the bringing up of a child ends at the moment of insemination.’

Unable to shake the images of court battles, despite his denial, Izzy blinked up at him still feeling physically sick. ‘Neither do I.’ Her confusion was genuine.

He arched a satiric brow. ‘Really? I’d assumed that you’d be carrying on the family tradition. You’ve got to hand it to your mother—she did at least practise what she preached.’

‘If you want to know what I think, I suggest you ask me, not base your assumptions on the snatches of my mother’s books you read.’

‘Actually I read the entire book.’ And having done so he had been amazed that her daughter was as relatively normal as she seemed. The woman had been a total zealot.

From his expression she was assuming Roman was not a fan. ‘She wrote twenty.’

His lips tightened in a spasm of impatience. ‘I think we both know which book I’m talking about. Did she actually believe all that drivel she wrote or did she just have a mortgage to pay off?’

Izzy took a deep breath and calmed her breathing. While she did not agree with a lot of what her mother had preached, she was not about to stand there while he sneered. ‘My mother’s book is considered a modern classic. She sparked debate, which can only be a good thing.’ There was nothing her mother had liked more than a good argument.

‘Do you make a habit of rubbishing people who are no longer here to defend themselves?’

The contempt in her voice made him flush, the colour running up dark under his golden-toned skin. ‘So what did your mother teach you?’

She tilted her chin to a proud angle. ‘My mother brought me up to make my own decisions.’

‘Like having unprotected sex with a total stranger?’ He clenched his teeth, recognising the utter hypocrisy of his below-the-belt jibe the moment it left his lips. He still could not believe that he had been so criminally reckless; the only time in his life he had had unprotected sex had resulted in a child.

Izzy sucked in a breath. ‘If you’re trying to make me feel ashamed, don’t waste your breath.’ Her voice quivered and she bit her lip before husking, ‘I already do.’ She moved her head slowly from side to side in an attitude of bewilderment. ‘I can’t believe it was me that night.’

She had coped with the memory by treating it like some surreal, erotic, out-of-body experience. The wheel had fallen off that coping mechanism the moment Roman had appeared in her life. All the pent-up passion she had successfully denied had surfaced, no surreal dream any longer.

Roman’s expression hardened. She was talking as if she’d been some awkward adolescent instead of a sensual woman who had known exactly what she wanted and had not been afraid to ask. ‘Don’t tell me,’ he drawled. ‘You didn’t know what you were doing.’

She coloured angrily at his sarcasm. ‘I’m not trying to deny responsibility.’ In response to a faint whimper from the baby carrier she took hold of the handle and, on autopilot, began to rock it back and forth rhythmically. ‘But I had just buried my mother, and I’d never actually done it before. What’s your excuse, Roman?’ Izzy froze and thought, ‘God, did I say that out loud?’

‘Yes.’

Izzy’s eyes widened with shock before she pressed a hand to her mouth—a classic case of too little too late. In the stretching silence the sleeping child’s regular breathing drew Roman’s attention. He was still staring at his daughter when he finally spoke.

‘Buried your mother?’ His research had of course told him the woman was dead, he might even have read the date, but he had not made any connection.

Roman turned his head in time to see Izzy biting her lip. She met his eyes and tilted her head in acknowledgement. ‘Cremated, actually.’