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arrange to have it carpeted immediately,’ Larenzo answered without missing a beat, and Emma wondered if she’d been challenging him. How far would Larenzo go to accommodate his daughter? Did she even want to answer that question?
She felt a churning mix of emotions as she stepped into the living room, its large windows overlooking Central Park, now ablaze in autumn colours. On one hand, she was grateful that Larenzo was interested in his daughter. How could she not be? And yet she was also afraid. Afraid of the darkness of his past, the secrets he wasn’t telling her. But more than that: she was afraid of feeling too much for him, of getting too used to this. To him. Of caring for a man who had no intention of reciprocating her feelings. Surely she wouldn’t be so weak. She wouldn’t let herself.
‘Would you like to come see the nursery?’ Larenzo asked, coming to stand behind her at the window, Ava in his arms.
Emma turned. ‘There’s a nursery?’
‘I had it all delivered yesterday.’
Wordlessly she nodded and followed Larenzo down the luxuriously carpeted hall to the bedrooms.
‘My bedroom is here,’ he said, indicating a door on the left. ‘And your bedroom is here.’ He pointed to a door directly across from his. ‘The nursery is adjoining yours. I thought you’d prefer that.’
‘I do,’ Emma said, although the thought of having her own bedroom after ten months of sharing cramped quarters with her daughter was a luxury she intended to enjoy. ‘Thank you,’ she added belatedly, and Larenzo just nodded as he opened the door to the nursery.
She’d been expecting something basic and expedient, ordered and set up in a hurry, but the room she stepped into looked as if it had taken months of planning. The walls were painted a pale lilac, and matching curtains framed the deep window that overlooked the park. Deeper purple accents were scattered around the room: a throw pillow on the rocking chair, a silk-patterned lampshade, a close-up photograph of a violet on the wall. It was a lovely, creative room that was perfect for a baby without being cloyingly sweet or infantile.
‘I thought you might like something other than the standard pink,’ Larenzo said, and Emma heard a surprising note of uncertainty, even vulnerability, in his voice. ‘But of course if you don’t like it, you must change it. You can redecorate anything in the apartment as you like.’
‘I don’t want to redecorate,’ Emma answered honestly. ‘I love it. It’s perfect, Larenzo. Thank you.’
‘Good.’
Emma set Ava down on the plush carpet and she crawled towards a purple rocking horse—actually, Emma saw, a unicorn with a glittery horn—set in the corner, reaching up to grasp the handles as she pulled herself to standing.
‘She’s clever, isn’t she?’ Larenzo said with pride. ‘She’ll be walking soon.’
‘And then there will really be no stopping her.’ Emma gazed round the room again, noting all the unique touches. ‘So did you hire an interior decorator?’ she asked, and Larenzo shook his head.
‘No, I did it myself. I enjoyed picking out all the things.’
‘It must have taken an age—’
‘No, just an afternoon. I hired painters to come and do the walls, and I put the furniture together myself.’ He paused and then added, ‘I told you I wanted to be involved, Emma.’
‘I know, but...’ She shook her head, overwhelmed by the thought and consideration Larenzo had clearly put into the nursery. She pictured him with an instruction leaflet and a set of tools, laboriously putting the crib and changing table together, and felt as if a fist had clenched around her heart. ‘I suppose I didn’t really think you’d be a hands-on dad,’ she confessed, and Larenzo raised his eyebrows.
‘Why not?’
‘I don’t know. You were so busy with work when I was your housekeeper. You hardly had time to come to the villa. And your lifestyle...’
‘Things are different now.’
‘Yes.’ Emma swallowed, trying to banish the images that had sprung into her mind, memories of the last night Larenzo had come to the villa, had come to her. She had to put that behind her. Heaven knew Larenzo had. ‘Yes,’ she repeated more firmly. ‘Things are different now.’
AFTER SETTLING AVA in her new crib for an afternoon nap, Emma went to her bedroom and began to unpack her few possessions. She could hear Larenzo moving around in his bedroom across the hall, and the closeness of the quarters made her feel...aware.
She was still overwhelmingly attracted to Larenzo. It was a fact she had to acknowledge, and perhaps acknowledging it would help her to deal with it. Larenzo had made it abundantly clear that he had no interest in her that way any more, and she didn’t even want him to. At least, she shouldn’t want him to. Emma let out a rueful sigh as she acknowledged the truth—and strength—of her feelings. But she also knew their relationship, if they even had one, was way too complicated already.
And yet the tenderness he’d shown with Ava, the consideration he’d shown her...they chipped away at her defences. Made her remember. Made her want things she had absolutely no business wanting.
She might believe in Larenzo’s innocence, but that didn’t mean he was safe.
Ava was still sleeping after she’d unpacked, and so Emma headed out to the living room. The room was spacious and luxuriously appointed, if a little bland. No personal photographs or mementoes, but then Larenzo had bought the place only a week ago. It had probably come furnished.
She prowled around the room, glancing at the antique vases, the gilt mirrors, feeling restless and not quite knowing why.
She gazed out of the window at the leafy enclave of Central Park and as she imagined taking Ava to one of the playgrounds there, exploring the city with her daughter, her spirits lifted a little. She could make this work. She had to make this work, at least for a little while.
‘Was your room adequate?’
Emma spun around to see Larenzo standing in the doorway of the sitting room. He’d changed from his more casual clothes of this morning to a well-tailored suit in navy-blue silk, and he looked, as he always did, devastatingly attractive. Even from across the room Emma felt the force of his magnetism, and it nearly propelled her forward, towards him. She held onto the window sill for balance as she answered him.
‘Yes, thank you. More than adequate. This is a beautiful apartment, Larenzo.’
‘You must change anything you don’t like.’
She thought of telling him she wouldn’t be staying long enough to warrant such changes, but somehow she couldn’t make herself say the words. She just nodded instead, and Larenzo turned towards the door.
‘I have to go out now, for some business meetings, but I should be back this evening.’
‘Okay.’ Emma wasn’t sure why this surprised her, but it did. What had she expected—she and Larenzo would spend the day together? Larenzo had made it clear they would be living separate lives, brought together only by Ava, which was how she wanted it. How she had to want it. ‘Do you—do you want me to make something for dinner?’ She saw surprise flash across Larenzo’s face and she wondered if she’d pushed some undiscussed boundary, crossed some invisible line. Maybe Larenzo had no intention of eating with her or Ava. She had no idea how this was meant to work, how it was going to work.
‘If it’s no trouble, that would be fine,’ he finally said.
‘It’s no trouble.’
With a nod of farewell, Larenzo left the apartment and Emma stood there for a moment, feeling the emptiness all around her, not able to decide if she was