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“Be that as it may, hiring someone to look after Charlotte is a really big deal. I’ve only ever left her with my mother or Angie. You can’t expect me to trust a stranger.”
“Jacinda isn’t a stranger.”
Something bristled along her spine. Jealousy, sharp and fierce. “No?”
“She looks after Amelia when Noah and Max are in the States. She’s got heaps of experience and Max trusts her completely. Believe me, Noah Storm isn’t going to leave his kid with anyone who poses any kind of threat, and nor would I. Charlotte will be in very capable hands.”
It was somewhat mollifying, but still, nerves bundled in Abby’s throat.
“You have made this decision unilaterally for all of Charlotte’s life. I haven’t questioned the people you’ve had caring for Charlotte while you worked. Would you just trust me on this one single point? I would never ask you to leave our daughter with someone who isn’t exceptionally qualified.”
He was right. On both scores. She had made all the parenting decisions for a long time, and he had a vested interest in their daughter’s safety. He wasn’t going to take any risks with Charlotte.
“It’s just hard for me to let go of the reins,” she said quietly.
“I understand that. I like how protective you are.”
“I’ve had to be.”
He nodded slowly. “But I’m here now. You can relax. A little.”
Relax? Not likely. Being around Gray would mean keeping her guard up the entire time.
“So?”
“Dinner,” she said quietly, wondering at the kick of something like excitement in the pit of her stomach. She quelled it instantly. This was a logistics conversation, nothing more. “Fine. I just need to get changed.”
For the briefest moment, heat flared in his eyes, but he tamped down on it so quickly she wondered if she’d imagined it. “I’ll be waiting.”
It had seemedlike a good idea at the time. Bringing Abby out had felt right for a dozen reasons. Partly, it was because it was obvious she’d spent all of Charlotte’s life working and existing, without getting to have any kind of time for herself. She deserved to be spoiled, to be looked after, and he felt a strange, medieval desire to do exactly that. He’d also wanted to bring her out for the reason he’d voiced to her. Alone in his penthouse, it was too easy to let the chemistry between them bubble over. Being surrounded by people in a restaurant was a safer bet.
Until it wasn’t.
Because Abby Brenna was both stunning and modest, completely natural, and utterly charming. Unlike most of the other women here, who wore designer dresses or carefully torn jeans with skimpy camisoles, Abby wore a simple linen dress, fitted at the bodice then flaring in an a-line to her knees, showing off her slender legs and slim ankles, her delicate feet pushed into strappy sandals with a wedge heel. The color was a soft plum, flattering the tone of her skin and the shimmer of her eyes and her silky brown hair was brushed loose around her shoulders. As always, the makeup Abby wore was understated. She didn’t need cosmetics and wore only a hint. Perhaps some mascara and lip gloss, but nothing else, so he could see the little freckles that crossed her nose, and remembered with a pang how fascinated he’d been by them then.
Before.
The word was like a form of torture.
For one brief month, she’d been his. Completely. He’d known he was leading her on, but he hadn’t fought that. Because he’d loved spending time with her so much. He’d loved knowing that he could reach out and touch her, kiss her, tease her, tickle her, make her laugh, make her come, any time of the day or night. She was like a virus spreading through him, taking over his system, and she still was.
But this time, he had the perfect motivation to be more careful.
Charlotte.
He’d seen men hurt his mother. He’d grown up in a home that was frequently shattered by arguments and raised voices, competing egos and a general lack of respect. He wasn’t going to replicate that environment for Charlotte.
“This place is incredible.” Her smile showed wariness.
He looked around at the restaurant, trying to see it through her eyes. He supposed it was pretty impressive. From the mezzanine that hung above a crowded bar, to the aquariums that formed three of the walls, showcasing huge fish and bright coral, to a menu that boasted a limited selection of the best produce available in the city.
Something flickered in her face and she shifted in her seat, focusing on her menu for a moment. “What did you want to talk about?”
He frowned. What had happened? Why did she go quiet?
“Our marriage. Specifically, the terms of your marrying me.”
“Terms?”
