A Case of Extreme Mistaken Identity - Victorine E. Lieske Page 0,36

cared.

He stroked her hair. It was soft, and smelled like cocoa butter. That same feeling of wanting to protect her rose in him. But what could he do?

Finally, after she calmed down, he pulled back to look into her eyes. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head, then bit her lower lip. “It’s not going to ever end, is it?”

She looked so despondent that his heart broke for her. He reached up and touched the side of her face, brushing his fingers over her soft skin. It seemed almost too intimate, and guilt choked him. She had a boyfriend. He shouldn’t be thinking the kinds of things that were running through his mind at the moment. He wasn’t supposed to be enjoying her being so close. And he certainly shouldn’t be looking at her lips and wondering how she would react if he kissed her.

He swallowed and cleared his throat. “People fade out of the limelight. It’s possible to live a normal life.”

She searched his face, as if she were trying to figure out if he was once again lying to her. “I don’t see how.”

“I know you don’t. You’ve been in the tabloids your whole life. You don’t know what it’s like to be anything else. But believe me, if you start living a normal life, people will get bored and move on to keeping tabs on someone else.”

She lowered her gaze. “Why do people even care?”

He wanted to tell her he didn’t know, that he couldn’t fathom why everyone was fascinated by Danica Jordan, but that would be another lie. He knew the truth. He cupped her cheek in hopes that would soothe his words. “Because…of what happened to your mother.”

She balked, and he pulled her closer. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because I don’t want to cause you pain.”

She buried her face into his chest again. The feel of her soft pajamas against his skin, mixed with the warmth of her, caused his chest to constrict. She shook her head. “It’s not your fault. You’re right. My mother’s death put me in the limelight.”

He hated that such an awful event caused the world’s fascination with Danica Jordan. He didn’t know what to say now that her mother was brought up. What could he say? Everyone knew the horrible circumstances. Would she even want to talk about it? He hesitated before quietly asking, “Do you remember her?”

Dani pulled back from him and shook her head. “Not really.”

“That must be hard for you.”

She nodded, then wiped at her face, her cheeks reddening. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to blubber all over you.” She crossed the room and opened the refrigerator, taking out a water bottle. “Looks like I’ve embarrassed myself yet again.”

Austin felt awkward standing there, his arms suddenly feeling empty, so he sat down on the couch. “No need to feel embarrassed.”

She opened the bottle and took a long drink. After recapping it, she leaned against the small counter. “If it wasn’t you, who was it?” She turned her burning gaze on to him.

“I don’t know.” He’d been trying to figure that out, but had no answers. “Maybe one of the other housekeepers? Or someone staying here?”

She slowly nodded. “I guess it has to be.”

“But really, it doesn’t matter if people know you’re working here. It’s respectable.”

Dani tossed him a flat look, then crossed the room to join him on the couch. “Respectable? You must not run in the same circles I do.”

“I just mean it’s honest work.” His fingers itched to touch her hand, to feel her warm skin, but he held back. He had to keep reminding himself he was not supposed to be falling for Dani.

“I guess.” She fiddled with the water bottle, picking at the label. He hadn’t noticed before, but she’d trimmed her nails and taken off her fingernail polish. Somehow it made him like her even more.

“Don’t worry so much about what people think. You can’t change their opinions. Let them think what they want. It will only make you unhappy to worry about it.”

“Have you ever been on the receiving end of a scandal?” She looked up at him. He couldn’t find any accusation in her gaze, but he felt the weight of the question.

“No.”

“I figured.” She set her bottle on the coffee table.

He cleared his throat, then grew bold and took her hand, even though he knew it probably wasn’t a good idea. “You’re right. I shouldn’t tell you how to respond. Not when you’ve been through this type of thing