Page 49 of The Rejected Wife

How she smiled when I took her to that hidden bookshop, and she fawned over her favorite romance novels. How she came home with me. How taken I was with her that I wanted her in my house, under my roof, and yes, in my bed. How I looked into her beautiful face and knew something had shifted. And that first kiss. How it made my soul shatter and my heart stutter. And drained my blood to my groin.

Over the past year, in between the chaos that a baby brought into my life, and during the lulls that any single parent will savor… I allowed myself to think of her. The touch of her skin against mine, her scent in my nostrils, the brush of her hair against my cheek… These thoughts returned over and over, filtering across my mind like an elusive rainbow which felt beautiful but too far away to touch. A mirage, perhaps. A dream. Maybe, I imagined it all?

In between continuing to be CEO of one of the Davenport Group of companies, helping with my uncle Quentin’s security firm, and taking care of Serene, my life is full. Stretched to delivering on the challenge of parenting a little girl who came into my life so suddenly, I've tried my best not to regret letting Priscilla go.And failed.

It all came back to me when I saw her at the lunch where Knox announced he was engaged to her. I was furious with him, then relieved when he told me he wasn’t going through with it. A relief… I don’t want to question too closely.

"Mama?" Serene touches Priscilla’s cheek. There's a look of wonder on my daughter’s little features.

"Oh." Priscilla’s gaze grows big. Her chin trembles. She opens her mouth and closes it, seemingly unable to react.

"Mama." Serene nods with satisfaction. There's confidence in her voice, the kind I’ve never heard before. Then she grabs hold of a strand of Priscilla’s hair and tugs on it.

"Ow," Priscilla says softly, still not looking away from my child.

"Mama come home." Serene squirms in Priscilla’s grasp, and she puts the toddler down. Not that Serene lets go of her.

She grabs Priscilla’s hand and gently tugs, trying to lead her toward the living room.

Priscilla glances down at her with a half-surprised, half-amused kind of expression on her face. I don’t blame her. It summarizes how I feel about what’s happening. Does my little girl have a sixth sense about Priscilla? Is it even possible she remembers her? Or is it simply that she likes the look of Priscilla—which I can’t blame her for.After all, whose daughter is she, hmm?But also… I’m bemused.

"Papa—" She looks at Priscilla, then back at me. "Mama?"

Priscilla shifts her weight from foot to foot. "Oh no, I’m not your mommy, Poppet. I’m?—"

"Your new nanny," I cut her off.

Priscilla jerks her chin in my direction. “I… Uh, I’m not sure?—”

“Thought you said you wanted the position?"

“I do…” Priscilla glances down at the child, a soft expression on her features. Her forehead is furrowed though, as if she’s confused. From the tension which has crept back into her body, I’m guessing she’s having second thoughts. I need to reassure her. To coax her into accepting the position of nanny. But how? As I’m racking my brain, Serene resolves it.

She pulls on Priscilla’s hand. “Mommy.”

Priscilla’s eyebrows twist. She crouches down so she’s eye level with Serene.“Oh honey, you shouldn’t call me that.”

She shouldn’t. But damn, if that doesn’t spark a coil of warmth in my chest. Damn if it doesn’t make my head spin. This…is a scenario which I dared not think about. It’s exactly what I’ve been trying to avoid since Serene arrived in my life. And it’s making Priscilla feel uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry, she’s never done that before.” I rub the back of my neck. “If you try to dissuade her, it’ll make her more insistent.”

Priscilla straightens, a confused expression on her face. Serene gives her hand another tug. Priscilla holds back—until Serene juts out her lower lip in a little pout. She looks up at her with wide-eyed determination.

Priscilla’s resistance crumbles. A small smile curves her mouth. Total sucker. Just like me. She lets Serene pull her toward the living room.

I lean in her wake and take a deep sniff. Apple blossoms. The scent that's haunted me all these months. My groin hardens. My chest hurts. Goddamn. She’s here as Serene’s nanny, and I have a hard on for her. How inappropriate is that?

I want more from her. But right now, it’s more important that I find someone to help me with Serene.

I shut the door and follow the two inside. The sight of my little girl’s fingers woven with those of the woman who’s been my personal ghost sends a tremor up my spine. They look like they were meant to be together. My stomach ties itself in knots. My guts churn. But my heart… It relaxes. For the first time since I sent Priscilla away, my skin doesn’t feel too tight.

The hurt in my chest eases. I draw in a breath—and it feels as if oxygen saturates my blood for the first time in months. Enough to make me feel lightheaded.

Serene ignores the living room and the lure of the children’s program playing on the television—a first!—and walks into the kitchen, Priscilla in tow. She heads for her highchair and tries to climb on. Priscilla places her handbag on the counter and tries to help her, but Serene shrugs her off.

She’s been independent for as long as I’ve known her, my little girl. Very aware. Constantly asking questions. Always clued-in to the world around her. She started talking within a month of her arrival.

She picked up vocabulary very quickly and, by the time she was eighteen months, was speaking in almost complete sentences. It meant I could hold conversations with her. Still, she's only a toddler. She needs a full-time caregiver. And I can’t be by her side twenty-four hours a day. She needs a nanny. Someone smart enough to keep my kid intellectually stimulated. Someone like Priscilla would be a godsend. Assuming she’s not put off by Serene calling her ‘Mama’ and is happy to accept the position.

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