Page 23 of Filthy Rich Temptation

Christ.And I’m about to putthaton water…?

I snag a life vest from the boatman like it’s body armour and intercept her mid-soar. ‘Time to suit up, Captain.’

She skids to a miraculous halt and I wrestle the vest over her shoulders, zipping her in with the calm, practised ease of someone absolutely winging it.

Sadie’s watching the entire thing, arms crossed, a curious twist tugging at the corner of her mouth.

I throw her a grin that says,I’ve got this.

She smiles back like she almost believes me.

And just like that, I almost believe me too.

‘Ready?’ I say to our captain.

‘Ready!’

I help them aboard, bracing my feet as the boat rocks with their arrival. It gives me something to focus on – something that isn’t the warmth of Sadie’s hand in mine as she climbs in. It’s a hand. Just a hand. Nothing exotic or erotic or—Jesus, get a grip!

I feel about as wired as Lottie looks, and I glance at Sadie. ‘I think Captain might need strapping in?’

She gives an edgy laugh, pulling Lottie into her lap as she takes a seat –thank God– while I do the same and grab the oars.

Why did I think this was a good idea again?

Still, Lottie seems… mostly contained. Contained and chipper, which is as close to calm as you get with a three-year-old, I’m coming to realise. I row us out while she babbles non-stop about birds, boats, and everything in between, her head on a constant swivel.

And Sadie… I don’t know.

She’s dug out a pair of sunglasses and I can’t see her eyes any more, but her head is angled to the sun, her mouth softly curved. The sight steals my breath – then my rhythm – the oars stuttering across the surface before I pull it back under control.

Her mouth twitches.

I wonder if she noticed.

Noticed and knows the cause.

Beautiful, that’s what she is, that’s what I want to tell her. But I can’t.

I let that out and it’s a slippery slope into the truth – that I want her. That I wanted her back then, too. And that’s a truth neither of us can handle.

She’s fresh out of a relationship from hell, seeking a new life for her and Lottie – a happy, stable life.

And me messing with that, confusing it with whatever this attraction is… it wouldn’t just reopen an old wound, it would break Taylor’s trust in me. Maybe even break Sadie all over again, and I can’t do it. I won’t.

I can make her feel better though. I hope.

‘How do you feel now?’

We’re in the middle of the lake. Far enough from land for the noise to fall away. Here, it’s just the gentle creak of the hull, the steady lap of the water, the soft swoosh of the oars.

‘Better.’ She turns that tiny smile on me. ‘Thank you.’

My chest eases. Just hearing her say it and knowing that she means it…

But I can’t forget how she looked getting out of the car. Pale. Clammy. Flinching at every spike in sound. And I know it’s him. That whatever she went through at his hand, she’s still going through it now.

Because she hadn’t been like this before: wary of crowds, sensitive to noise…