Entry-Level Mistress - By Sabrina Darby Page 0,65

eyes intent upon me as if he knew exactly what I was thinking, “for driving him to suicide and for guiding my mother toward an early death.”

I didn’t want to say no to him again. I wasn’t strong enough to say no. No woman should have to be. I just wanted to be loved, for him to look at me that way always.

“My father did have an affair with your mother,” I said slowly, “and he’s ultimately the reason he went to jail. Not you.”

“But my father chose to kill himself.”

“And your mother chose her pills.”

His eyes closed. I wanted to throw myself around him and take it back, pretend everything was easy and light and I could be with him without all of this. Except the words were out there.

He took a deep breath that moved his whole body and then he opened his eyes. Met mine.

“Mark Anderson has paid for his mistakes, both financially and legally. I didn’t know anything about his new deal. In fact, I told my private investigator to stop looking into your family shortly after we started sleeping together.”

I took that in. Private investigator.

“You … investigated me?” It was like we were characters on a TV drama, all of the events in our lives so ridiculous and fantastical. Surely this wasn’t real life. Real people didn’t bankrupt themselves to seek revenge, have private investigators, go to work for their enemies, sleep with their enemies, get pregnant at twenty-one by their enemies.

I shook my head at my thoughts, not sure if I wanted to laugh or cry.

“I’ve had a file on you for years. Or rather, you were part of your family’s file.”

I nodded slowly. I could understand that he would have.

“So why did you stop?”

I searched his face for honesty, stared deep into his eyes as if that part of his body was actually a window to his soul instead of just a dense collection of molecules.

“Because it was pretty obvious that you weren’t a danger to my company.” He laughed. “To me and my heart maybe, but not my company.”

My lips quirked up at that briefly but I couldn’t give in yet.

We stood there facing each other. All of it between us. All of it so final.

“We’re not that different, Emily.” As he said the words, it felt right. Felt true. “And as ugly as the past is, we understand each other.” I nodded, reached out for him. When he grabbed my hands, drawing me closer even as he pressed them against his chest, I thought I might fall from the sensation of touching him again. “I want to be a father to our children. I want to be the man who goes to bed with you every night and wakes up with you every morning.”

My breath caught in my throat. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t think. I wanted too much …

“All right,” I whispered finally, breaking my hands free of him and throwing myself against him, around him, glorying in the sudden freedom of being able to do so again. My chest was pressed against his and I imagined it desirous and opening like a flower, a meeting of our two hearts, surreal and wonderful, colorful and exuberant. “I want to be open. I want to give us another chance.”

I wasn’t certain that he understood, that he had that sudden melding vision too, but he breathed in deeply, his chest seeming to expand against mine.

In the next moment he was holding me tight, his breath ragged against my ear.

Then he pulled away, captured my face in his hands and closed the space between us.

Everything was different about this kiss. This was the kiss of a man who was really, truly in love with me. The knowledge was shattering, and terrifying,

This kiss, this love, was no game.

And I was twenty-one, pregnant with his child, just beginning to discover my own purpose in life.

“Wait—”

“Make me the happiest man,” he murmured against my lips. He sounded happy, lighter, the way I felt inside, but there was more I needed to say.

“I wanted revenge. I didn’t want to make you happy.”

He laughed, kissed my ear. I turned my head slightly.

Daniel dropped his hands, held them open to me even as I stepped back.

“Emily.” My name on his lips was almost a sigh, a plea. “If you want to make me the most miserable man on earth, that would be fine too. Just … tell me you love me and tell me you’ll marry me, and tell