Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

E IGHT NIGHTS LATER, HE COULD only conclude that he'd become addicted to making up for lost time. Having spent the bulk of his adult life with Amy, who he now realized he had pretty lackluster chemistry with, he hadn't actually realized any woman could drive him so completely crazy.

Louisa was every single one of his teen fantasies come to life. And in a little over a week, she had quite literally become the air he breathed, almost all the time.

She was there, in the office, from first thing in the morning until the evening. She was there in her power suits and heels, and bright red lips, shiny dark hair, distractingly manicured nails, with her bright ideas and very sharp wit, making him want to abandon any plans to promote his Sydney hotel and instead take her away from all this for a proper uninterrupted week together.

He was a father first and foremost, and he never, ever wished that he wasn't. But there had been many times, in the intervening week, in which he'd resented Amy for not being more help.

There was Kristen, and he knew he could ask his housekeeper to do just about anything. But looking after a surly, rule-breaking, ungrateful teenager was definitely not something he could throw at her for days on end. Nights were fine, particularly as he'd started staying home later and later, waiting until Taylor was more or less settled for the night before driving across town to Louisa's.

He missed having dinner with Louisa; he'd liked that. But he also recognized the practical constraints of what they were doing.

So, they made the most of the few hours they had together, and then he'd sneak out, once she was asleep, and drive back home. And start the clock counting on when he'd be able to be alone with her again.

The office was its own particular form of torture, particularly because Louisa seemed to delight in tormenting him. In meetings, she would purse her lips and hold his eye contact long enough that he could only imagine the way her mouth had looked wrapped around his length, just as she'd promised that first day in his boardroom when she'd done just that. Or she'd stand so close that his hands would itch to reach out and brush up her leg or squeeze her bottom, or brush her hair from her face, or damn well kiss that pout from her mouth.

Many times, he imagined what the advertising team would do if he acted out one such fantasy.

He owned the company. They were Fox hotels. What would they do? To him, nothing. But to Louisa?

And what were the chances that someone eager to make a quick buck wouldn't sell the story? He wasn't a celebrity in the same class as her ex, but locally there was still interest in their billion-dollar family when it came to relationships.

So, he kept his hands firmly clasped on the desk when she was nearby and tried his hardest not to look at her unless it was absolutely necessary.

In the privacy of her home, it was Noah's turn to torment Louisa. There, she was his prisoner, his willing supplicant, and he could drive her wild with a single touch. Which he did, again and again, his body's mastery over hers unrivaled. He hoped.

But by the eighth day, he knew that he was becoming addicted to this.

They'd said they'd keep it light, and it was definitely that, but at the same time, he couldn't imagine a time when he'd want to walk away from her.

So, what did that mean?

He had a teenager at home. He couldn't exactly start dating someone seriously. Could he?

Just the thought of it made his pulse crank up.

Why couldn't he? Lots of people did it. It wasn't as though he and Amy had only recently split. Their marriage had been over for a long time. And it wasn't like Taylor could be any angrier with him. So, what exactly did he have to lose?

"You can't be serious?" Louisa said when he broached the subject with her. "You want me to meet Taylor?"

"Why not?"

Panic showed on her features. "Because I—we're—we said?—,"

"I know." And it had only been a week. Uncharacteristic doubts spread through him. "And I know it's only been a week. But I like you, Louisa. I want to see where this goes, without constraints."

"We don't have constraints," she said quickly.

"Of course we do. You want to avoid being seen with me in public, and I've been trying to keep you quarantined from my actual life. But I don't want to just be this anymore," he gestured to the bed. "I want to have dinner with you. Go for walks with you. I want to date you."

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth in that distracting way she had, but this time, he could tell it was to bite back a smile. She was happy? This wasn't a disaster?

"What do you think?" he asked quickly.

"I think I'm scared," she responded, with the kind of honesty he adored in her.

"What of?"

"Well, you have a kid, for one thing. And I feel like my life is a bit of a mess right now. I mean, they haven't announced their engagement but as soon as they do, it's going to be all over the world, and people are going to start looking to see me cry, writing some whole heartbreak narrative around the fact I'm down here in Australia. It's going to be bedlam, and the last thing I want to do is drag you into that. Or Taylor."

"Okay, fair enough. I appreciate your consideration, though if it weren't for Taylor, I'd say that's all the more reason to prove to the world that you're doing just fine, too."

Her eyes widened and she tilted her head in concession to that fact. "Perhaps."

"But Taylor is very much a part of my life, and any decision I make has to put her front and centre. Even when she drives me absolutely crazy."

"You're a great dad," she said softly, with something like pride. "I really like that about you."

"I rarely feel like it."

"I think that's the hallmark of a good parent."

"Maybe," he said with a shrug. "I had a good example."

"I did, too."

"You're close to your parents?"

She nodded.

"How do they feel about your whole royal break up and Australia move?"

"Fine about both," she said. "They were always quick to make sure that dating Ares was what I wanted. I know a lot of parents might aspire to that kind of thing for their kids, but mine didn't. We're—," her cheeks flushed pink.

"Go on," he said, loving that she was embarrassed, but also hating it at the same time, because he didn't want her to censor herself at all.

"Well, we're from this old, aristocratic family. Very well known in Moricosia. So, while Ares is the King, it's not like…"

"It's not like you're a nobody."

"Right. It wasn't some Cinderella story," she said. "They have money, connections, a small palace on the water," she added for good measure.

He laughed. "Right, I get the picture."

"So, with Ares, they really just wanted to know I was happy. And I think they probably realized, sooner than I did, that I wasn't."

He reached out and cupped her hand. "I hate the thought of that."

"It wasn't Ares," she added, and her quickness to defend the other man stoked something inside of Noah. Even though she'd told him it hadn't been a wild love story, even though King Ares was now engaged to someone else. She'd been with him for years, and clearly still thought very highly of him.

Noah was jealous.

It hit him like a blade, right in the middle of his chest. For perhaps the first time in his life, he actually envied someone. Another man. For Ares had held a special place in Louisa's life and continued to do so.

Noah swallowed, trying to erase the useless emotion.

"He really is a great guy. But there was so much formality in everything we did and the constant sense of being groomed for a future role I wasn't even sure I wanted. It started as a relationship and turned into a burden that just got heavier and heavier by the day."

He leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers.

"The running away part was their idea. They knew the media wouldn't give me a moment's peace if I stayed, and Stuart Conroy is one of Dad's oldest friends. He pulled some strings, and the next minute, I was on a flight over here."

"All's well that ends well?"

"We'll see. I expect the press release to be made anytime."

"He'll give you a heads up, right?"

"Oh, absolutely. I'll have to make a statement," she said, frowning. "Though I imagine someone from the royal protocol team will draft it for me."

"Why not draft it yourself?"

"Because they'll know exactly what to say."

It was some small insight into how life had been for Louisa in the palace, and why she'd run from it. The Louisa he'd come to know would never let someone else speak for her.

"It's hard to explain," she said, as if reading his mind. "The royal family is kind of a whole separate beast. Everything they do is an exercise in PR."

"But Ares is about to announce his engagement to a woman he just met, a woman who's not from Moricosia, who's not aristocratic, and only a few months after you left the country. How is that good PR?"

"Because there's a whole big love story behind it," she said, with a wave of her hand, as though it made sense. "And there's nothing people love more than a happy ending, especially for Ares, after what he went through."

Noah shrugged. "I think people would want that for you too."

"Yep, but first they'll want to see me cry, believe me."

"I do believe you," he said, having his own experience with tabloids. "I just wish you were wrong."

"You're sure this is okay?"

"Taylor's at a friend's house," he said, driving his car into a below ground parking garage. "Today was the last day of the term, so they're celebrating."

"A party?"

"No, three girls at the house of one of her friends whose parents I trust implicitly. There'll be pizza, probably R-rated scary movies, and way too much lemonade. Normal teen stuff. And for once, she can't tell me I'm ruining her life because I wouldn't let her go."

"Okay, then." Excitement sparked in Louisa's stomach. She'd been excited to see Noah's Bellevue Hill house even before he'd driven them into the clearly prestigious street. She just hadn't expected it to be quite so incredible. Historic and beautiful, with enormous established trees in the front yard, she couldn't think of many more idyllic places to live.

But when they walked upstairs from the garage and into the large, open living space, with sweeping views towards the water, her heart skipped a beat. Not only was it architecturally beautiful with an incredible view, but the whole house was decked out for Christmas in a style that would rival a fancy department store.

"It's all so nice, Noah," she said.

He lifted his shoulders. "It's been in the family a long time."

"Lucky you," she murmured.

"Says she of the oceanfront palace."

Louisa poked her tongue out at him as she walked towards the floor-to-ceiling windows. "Just, wow," she said, with a shake of her head.

"I guess I got used to this view too. Though you're offering a definite improvement," he said, and when she turned, she realized that her dress must have been catching the afternoon sun, revealing her figure through the flimsy fabric.

She smiled at him, her whole body dancing as if flames were licking through her. "And the Christmas obsession? You don't look like an elf, but then, I've never met one in person."

He popped the top off a bottle of champagne. "I know, it's overboard."

"No, it's lovely."

"For the North Pole."

She slid him a sidelong glance, then gave the decorations more thought. It really was a lot. From an enormous tree—at least ten feet tall, in the middle of the bank of brown leather sofas to the garland that ran along every surface—and it wasn't just this room either. She could see hints of Christmas in every direction, making her wonder if the whole house was similarly decked out.

"I got someone to do it," he said, as though that explained the fact the house was dripping in festive green. He strode towards Louisa, holding out a long-stemmed glass of champagne. "Taylor used to love Christmas," he said, with a shrug. "We'd take her to New York every year, a couple of weeks out, to let her choose an ornament from Macy's and skate at Rockefeller. When she was younger, it was her favourite time of year. She'd ask to have Christmas carols playing all the time," his expression was nostalgic. "I just thought?—,"

"You wanted to give her that magic again."

He glanced at her ruefully. "Stupid, right?"

"No." She put her hands behind his back, careful not to tip her drink. "Sweet. Very, very sweet."

He looked down at her and something clicked in the region of her heart. He really was a great guy.

"Did she like it?"

"She hasn't said anything."

Louisa's brows stretched up. "About this ?" She angled her face to the side again, then back to him.

"I guess that means she must kind of like it, because the way she is these days, she'd never miss an opportunity to tell me if I did something she hated."

Sympathy flooded Louisa. "She'll get through this, Noah. I don't think anyone ever said parenting was easy."

They ate in a courtyard with views of the Harbour in the distance and Noah's verdant, established garden in the foreground. A big old Oak had a tree house halfway up, and fairy lights ran from the limbs of the tree to the pergola overhead, giving it all a very Midsummer Night's Dream feel.

Kristen served their food, and Louisa enjoyed seeing the easy relationship they had. "She's been incredible," Noah confided, "in terms of Taylor."

It was a testament to how much Noah was getting under her skin that Louisa felt a surge of jealousy. "Yeah?"

"She has two daughters, in their twenties, so she's been through it. Though neither of them ever rebelled quite like this."

"And yet you still asked my advice?" She couldn't help prompting.

"Well, I was feeling particularly desperate that day."

Her eyes widened.

He leaned forward and put his hand on hers, and sparks flickered inside her body. "And I might have desperately wanted to see you again, socially."

"You could have just asked me out."

"I don't think I was that honest, even with myself."

"What do you mean?"

"I haven't done this for a long time, remember?"

"You haven't even dated since Amy?"

He grimaced. "I know. Pathetic."

"No, not at all."

"When we moved to Australia, I made a choice that Taylor was going to have my complete focus. I just didn't realise how much of me she'd need. It's a bottomless pit, at the moment."

"So, why me?" Louisa asked, her stomach swooshing.

Noah stared at her for a long time, between slightly narrowed eyes, then shrugged. "I've always had a thing for glossy brunettes."

She laughed. "Hey!"

"I like your accent," he added.

She rolled her eyes.

"I don't know," he answered, finally, seriously. "I just felt like I needed to see you again."

Her breath hitched in her throat because it was so simple, and so, so perfect. "Me too," she said, so softly the words were almost carried away by the night air.

He'd fantasised about having Louisa here, in his bed, for a whole night, and now that she was fast asleep, he found he couldn't settle. He paced his room and eventually pulled on a pair of shorts and a shirt, moving to the window and staring out of it. The big old Oak was a shadow against the night sky. He remembered climbing that tree as a child; he remembered his youngest brother falling out of it and breaking his arm. He paced to the bed, looked at Louisa, and sighed, then moved back to the window.

He was restless with a strange sort of energy. It was like the pieces of his life were moving in a way he couldn't make sense of.

This was supposed to be casual, but it didn't feel casual.

He had no idea how long Louisa was planning to stay in Sydney, but he knew he was limited in what he could offer her, anyway. Taylor remained his focus. There was no changing that. If she weren't going through this disastrous stage of development, where she hated pretty much everything he said or did, maybe he could foresee a future where Louisa could slot into his life more permanently.

Could even…what? Marry him? They'd known each other less than two weeks. Besides that, she'd just broken up with someone. It took him years before his marriage with Amy ended before he could even look at another woman.

Louisa acted as though Ares's engagement didn't bother her, but surely it had to, on some level at least.

She was close to her family; they lived in Moricosia. Had she said anything, at any point, to suggest she might consider permanent relocation?

And what if she did? Taylor might be like this for years. He had no way of knowing what the future with her held, but she was his kid, and he'd give her everything he had. But he wanted to keep seeing Louisa, in a way that would work for them. He'd prefer not to be hiding out in her place all the time, too. He wanted to date her properly, take her out, do things with her, but her concerns about the press were real and valid; there was no point pushing that.

Whatever way he looked at it, frustration spread through Noah, because he found he wanted something more and different, but knew he couldn't get it. But what if he threw caution to the wind and just rolled the dice on all this? Maybe Taylor wouldn't be so mean to Louisa? She had friends at school, presumably, she treated them well. Perhaps it was just Noah who got the full force of her acidic anger.

A rumbling noise caught his attention and he moved swiftly to his bedside table, where his phone was charging. Taylor's face filled the screen and a clutch of anxiety flooded his veins.

"Tay?" He answered softly, striding from the room. He could hear laughing in the background, and lots of voices. "Are you okay?"

"Dad?" There was a childlike quality to her voice he hadn't heard in a long time. "Are you home?"

"Yeah, what is it, honey?"

"I—," she sniffled. "Can you come get me?"

His gut rolled. Where was she? What was going on? "From Melanie's?" he asked, careful to keep any note of judgement from his voice.

"No. Somewhere else. It's—can you come?"

His gut dropped to his toes. Something was wrong with his daughter; of course, he'd go to her. He snatched up the keys and ran downstairs, into the garage and thrummed the engine. His own life and plans and hopes were all forgotten—Taylor was the beginning and end of his world; she always would be.