He suddenly lost interest in their affair altogether. Stopped all contact apart from when it suited him to stick the knife in over Seb. Maybe it was his way of still letting her know he was there, or maybe he just wanted to get back at me.
Because I destroyed enough of his businesses to remind him what happens when he pushes too far, and now, this custody fight is just his way of pushing back.
Wynter comes back into the room, a little breathless.
“The doctor’s on his way.”
As predicted, Anika has an infection. The doctor started her on intravenous antibiotics and arranged for a nurse to come twice a day to administer the rest.
It’s a regular occurrence, one we’re both used to.
I walk Catherine to the door and kiss her cheek. “Enjoy France.”
She gives me a look. “I’ll call tomorrow to see how Anika is, and I’ll pop back next week. This isn’t goodbye.”
I smile despite myself.
Catherine has been part of my life for ten years now. She started as my housekeeper, and after the accident she helped with Anika and Sebastian too. Somewhere along the way, she stopped being staff and became more like family.That will never change.
Once she’s gone, I pour myself a whisky and drop onto the sofa. My peace lasts all of two minutes before a shriek cuts through the penthouse.
Wynter comes running into the living room wrapped in a short towel, wet hair clinging to her skin, water dripping down her legs.
“There’s a spider,” she gasps, nearly slipping on the tiled floor.
“It won’t hurt you,” I mutter, taking a sip of my drink and forcing my eyes to focus on her face.
“You don’t understand. I hate them. I’m petrified.”
The front door opens. Dale saunters in, then stops dead. His eyes widen as he takes her in. I’m on my feet before he can say a word.
“Fine,” I snap. “Show me.” I move past her before she can turn to him for help.
The spider is tiny. I stare at it for a second, then roll my eyes, scoop it up, and carry it to the window before flicking it outside.
When I turn back, Wynter is still standing there, with her towel clutched to her chest, shuddering.
“Thanks,” she says quietly.
My gaze drops before I can stop it. Wet skin. Bare legs.A whole lot of trouble.
I drag my eyes back to her face. “No problem.”
When I return to the living room, Dale is grinning. “How the fuck did you walk out of her room?” he asks. “It would’ve taken a gun to my head.”
“Some of us have self-control.”
“There’s no such thing when a half-naked woman comes running at you dripping wet.” He closes his eyes and groans theatrically.
Something hard twists in my chest. I don’t like that he’s picturing her.
“Remember what I said, Dale,” I warn. “Don’t fuck my staff.”
He snorts. “Your rules are bullshit. Maybe I could convince her to leave.”
“Or maybe you could find someone else to bother.”
He studies me for a beat, then smirks. “Do you want her to yourself?”