Page 42 of Forgotten Desires

“Housekeeper. She cooks and keeps things clean, not that I’m much of a mess maker, but she’s a godsend and I can’t imagine life without her. If you need anything, just ask.”

“I’m not sure I’m going to do well with this.”

All of this is going to be extremely strange for Brynn, but it’s going to be her new life for the time being. “It gets easier. Cliff will be your driver. Ford already hired someone new for me. I want you to be with someone I trust. If the media starts to harass you, I’ll have my security team assigned to you as well.”

She lifts her hand, covering my mouth. “No more. Let’s . . . take this slow and let me ease into this, okay?”

I smile, pulling her hand down. “We’re getting married in a few days, we don’t have slow.”

“That may be, but I’m going to end up having a panic attack in your very nice, private elevator. Cooks and drivers and security teams are all a little much on the night of our engagement. Between the fact that we are engaged, told my family, and we’re already mid planning a wedding, and then there’s telling your family, who I’ve never met, in like, twelve hours...it has me on edge.”

She’s so fucking cute when she’s flustered. “So you don’t want to know about the private ballroom?”

Her hand is back on my mouth. “Zip it.”

To keep her from freaking out, I push the button to go to the second floor of our penthouse. It’s the level with the primary bedroom and Layla’s room. It’ll . . . ease her in, maybe.

“Why did you do that?” Brynn asks, removing her hand.

“I figured it may work better if we go to the bedrooms first.”

Her eyes widen. “Bedroom?”

Shit. I didn’t think that through. “I just meant to show you our rooms, Layla’s room, that’s all.”

“We’re not sharing a room,” she informs me as we stop on the second floor of the penthouse.

“Of course we are. We’re going to be married.”

“Yes, but . . . that wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Technically, we didn’t really have a plan about that,” I remind her.

We step off the elevator and Brynn gasps. We enter the hallway, where the floors are marble, gleaming because Celeste washes them daily. There is a huge spiral staircase to the left that opens to the main and upper levels. I guide her the other way, where the guest rooms are. Maybe that’ll keep her calm.

“You live here?” she asks again.

“Welive here, Brynlee.”

She laughs once and sighs. “You understand my entire house fits in just that space where the staircase is?”

“It’s a lot, I know.”

“Crew, it’s . . . more than a lot.”

I shrug because it is what it is. “I entertain here at times and there’s something to be said for intimidation when you’re brokering a deal. Bringing my adversaries here has helped me remind people of who I am and exactly what I own.”

Brynlee seems to consider that and rests her hand on my arm. “I’m sorry. This has been a very . . . unexpected day.”

“Don’t apologize. Here, let me show you Layla’s room.”

We walk down the hall and I open the door. It’s like cotton candy threw up in here. The room is overdone, but Layla loves pink, so when I told the designer that, she ran with it. There is a large canopy bed, a gold dresser, and more toys than the kid could ever want. This room is soft, girly, and all I want is for her to be happy when she’s here.

Brynn smiles up at me. “It’s very pretty.”

“She loves it.”

“I’m sure she does. Do you show your business adversaries here first?”

---