Desire Collection: October 2017 Books 1 - 4. Maureen Child

to normal soon.

      He swung back around and sighed. “My father lost his company in his midfifties.”

      Dani blinked. “He did?”

      Nathaniel nodded jerkily. “I told you my mother was not diagnosed until I was in high school. The episode that triggered her hospitalization was so severe she suffered a massive break from reality.”

      “That must have been terrifying for you and your dad.”

      “My father protected her as best he could all those years, but now she was institutionalized with little hope of returning home. It crushed him. He couldn’t or wouldn’t confide in me. Maybe he thought I was too young. The stress affected his health. Eventually, he found solace in the arms of a woman who worked for him. It didn’t last long. Still, the damage was done. The employee filed a sexual harassment lawsuit, including charges for mental pain and anguish. A court awarded her a huge settlement, and my father had to liquidate the company to meet his obligations.”

      Nathaniel expected some response from Dani, any response. She stared at him blankly, as if nothing he had said made sense.

      The silence grew—with it, the certainty he had ripped apart something fragile and wonderful. Dani’s long-lashed blue eyes shone with tears. To her credit, she blinked them back successfully.

      She bit her lip, her pallor marked. “Let me be sure I understand. This lecture you’re giving me is because I cooked dinner and dared to acknowledge that tonight is Christmas Eve? Based on that, you’re afraid I’m going to sue you and take away your livelihood? Have I got it, Nathaniel? Is that what you’re telling me?”

      “You’re making me sound like a lunatic,” he said sullenly.

      Dani jumped to her feet, glaring at him, and headed for the door. Her chin wobbled ever so slightly. “No,” she said, her voice tight with hurt. “You’re doing a fine job of that all on your own. The thing is, Nathaniel, you’re not a Scrooge at all. You’re something far worse. Scrooge had a change of heart in his life. You don’t have a heart at all. You’re a machine. A cardboard figure of a man, a coward. I hope you choke on your pie.”

      If she had stormed out of the room, he might have found the energy to fight back. Instead, her icy, dignified departure warned him to let her go. It was Christmas Eve. The woman who had helped him with his baby crisis and done her best to create a bit of holiday joy in the midst of a snowstorm was insulted and pained beyond words, and it was his fault.

      He should have handled things better. Nothing he said was a lie. But what he had failed to mention was how much it hurt to see what his life might have been like if he hadn’t learned from his father’s weakness.

      Nathaniel didn’t want to be weak. He didn’t want the responsibility of a spouse and children. His life had been rumbling along just fine. Why in the devil had he let himself fall prey to feelings that were nothing more than syrupy commercialism?

      Holiday music and Christmas lights and good food were nothing more than a Band-Aid covering the world’s ills. Come Monday, everyone’s life would be as good or as bad as it ever was. Nathaniel was guided by reason and pragmatism. Those qualities in his leadership style had helped make New Century Tech prosper.

      Doggedly, he ignored the sick lump of dread in his stomach. He went to the kitchen, cut a piece of the beautiful pecan pie, topped it with a swirl of whipped cream and returned to the dining room to eat his dessert in solitary splendor. After several minutes, he placed his fork on the empty plate and rested his elbows on the table, head in his hands.

      Damn it, the pie was good. Downright amazing. The pecans had a crunchy glaze and the filling was sweet but not too sweet. If you wanted to know what happiness and love tasted like, this was it.

      The condo was as quiet as a winter snowfall. Nathaniel had spent at least half a dozen December 24ths alone during his adult life, maybe a few more. But tonight—this very moment—was the first time he had ever noticed something was missing on Christmas Eve.

      His outburst drained him. Dani’s stricken response excoriated him. He felt raw, his emotions exposed for all the world to see. It wouldn’t have mattered so much except that he valued Dani’s good opinion.

      Moving quietly, he cleared the table and set about cleaning up the kitchen. It was only fair. He hadn’t helped with meal preparations. Truthfully, though, the reason for his efforts was more about delaying consequences than it was having a tidy home.

      His brain whirred, jumping from thought to thought like a hound dog chasing butterflies in a meadow. What had he done? For that matter, what was he doing now? If Peaches were really his daughter, what did the future hold for him?

      In forty-five minutes, every pot and pan and plate and bowl was out of sight. Countertops gleamed. It was easy enough to restore a kitchen to its original state. Unfortunately, the harsh words he had served Dani were far more difficult to put back in the box.

      First things first. He picked up his phone and sent a text.

      It’s late. I’m coming to your room to get Peaches.

      Dani’s response was quick and terse.

      No. She’s asleep. You had her last night. My turn.

      Nathaniel sent two more texts insisting that he be the one to deal with the baby, but there was no response at all. Either Dani had turned off her phone, or she was ignoring him. He couldn’t bring himself to knock on her door. She deserved her privacy.

      After half-heartedly watching TV for a couple of hours, he headed to his own room, intending to read. He’d bought the latest medical thriller by an author he admired. That should distract him from his jumbled thoughts.

      Unfortunately, all he could focus on was the image of Dani. By now he had memorized everything about her. The low, husky music of her laugh. The way her blue eyes changed from light and sparkly to navy and mysterious. The graceful way she moved.

      As the night waned, he dozed only in snatches. The silence in the house became oppressive. Was Dani okay? Was Peaches? Were both females sound asleep? He’d never experienced the wakefulness of being responsible for another human being.

      Actually, that wasn’t true. Long ago, during a time he tried to forget, this same stomach-curling worry had been his from time to time. Whenever his father had gone out of town on business, he always reminded Nathaniel to keep an eye on your mother.

      Nathaniel had never really understood what he was watching out for. He only knew that his mother was not like his friends’ moms. Those women baked cookies and sat on the bleachers at T-ball games. Nathaniel’s mother mostly ignored him. When she did focus on his hapless self, her tendency was to smother him with adoration that held a marked tinge of frantic desperation and mania.

      As much as he had craved her attention as a boy, he learned early on that it was better for the family dynamic when she didn’t notice him.

      His thoughts drifted back to Dani. She was warm and nurturing and so completely natural with Peaches. Not one echo of disapproval or reluctance marked the way she related to the baby. Even if she thought Nathaniel was a cold bastard for ignoring his own child up until now, she never voiced her concern. He had no idea if she believed him or not when he said the infant wasn’t his.

      What if he were wrong?

      The mental struggles kept on coming. In the wee hours of Christmas morning, Nathaniel faced an unpalatable truth—the real reason he had created such an unfortunate scene at dinner.

      For months now, he had been deeply attracted to his executive assistant. The only way he had been able to manage his unfortunate response to her was to pretend she was part of the office furnishings. Maintaining the status quo meant he was the boss and Dani an extremely valued employee.

      The blizzard, along with Ophelia’s dramatic stunt, had upset the balance in Nathaniel’s life. At this point, he doubted whether the tide could be turned again. Dani was funny, compassionate...a real, breathing woman living beneath his roof. He liked her scent and the messy