Desire Collection: December Books 1 – 4. Elizabeth Bevarly

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really stopped to consider it before.

      Piers continued, “Because you are. You’re better than good enough. You’re the best assistant I’ve ever had and I know you apply yourself one hundred percent to everything you do.”

      She looked away, uncomfortable with the praise. Wasn’t it enough that she just did her job? Did he have to talk about it?

      “But what about your personal life, Faye?” He pressed on. “You have friends, don’t you?”

      “Of course I do,” she answered automatically.

      “You never talk about them.”

      “I thought I’d made it clear. My private life is private.”

      “Faye, I want to be a part of your private life. I want to be a part of your life altogether.”

      “I can’t do that,” she answered, shaking her head.

      “So far you haven’t given me a decent reason as to why not. And I won’t back down without one. You know I don’t give up when I want something.”

      She pushed her chair back from the table and stood. “I’m not just something to be wanted, Piers. And I don’t have to give you a reason for anything. You’re my boss. So far, you’ve been a good one, but I’m beginning to revise my opinion on that.”

      “Is that why you won’t let anything develop between us?” he said, swiftly coming around the table to stand between her and the exit. “Because I’m your boss? Because if it is, then I’ll fire you here and now so we can be together.”

      There was another sound from the monitor and Faye went rigid.

      Piers looked at her with questions in his eyes. “Is it Casey? Or is it me?”

      “No, it’s neither of you,” she lied, her voice a little more than a whisper. “I just don’t want to get involved. With anyone. Look, thanks for dinner. I have to go.”

      She pushed past him and all but ran to the living room, where she grabbed her bag and headed for the front door. Piers was a second behind her. She spun around to face him.

      “Yes, before you say it, I am running away. It’s how I deal with stuff, okay? If I don’t like a situation I’m in, I remove myself from it.”

      “But you do like me, don’t you, Faye?” He stepped a little closer, his strong, warm hands clasping her upper arms and pulling her gently to him. “In fact, you more than like me. You’re just fighting it. If it makes it any easier, I more than like you, too. In fact, I—”

      “Don’t!” Faye pressed her fingers to his mouth before he could say another word. “Don’t say anything, please. I don’t deserve it.”

      And with that she tugged loose from his grasp, pulled open the front door and hightailed it to her car.

       Eleven

      Piers watched her leave in a state of shock. He’d been on the verge of declaring he loved her. In fact, right now he was probably more stunned by that almost-admission than she was.

      He closed the door and slowly walked back to the conservatory, automatically clearing the table and putting away the leftovers. Meredith had her own suite downstairs in the house, with its own entrance, but she was away at a community college course tonight. Something he’d offered to fund for her when he’d heard of her long-held dream to study English literature. It certainly didn’t hurt him to look after himself for one night a week, especially if that only meant cleaning up his dinner dishes.

      Helping people achieve their dreams made him feel good. Whether it was at work and assisting them to develop further in their role or whether it was through the generous donations he made to various charities in the area. But never had he wanted to help someone as badly as he wanted to help Faye. What would it take to make her feel good? Something held her back. He could sense she wanted more—just as he did—but every time she started to reach for it, she yanked herself away. Almost as if she felt she had to punish herself for wanting it in the first place. The why of it might elude him forever if she didn’t open up, unless the private investigator he’d contacted came up with what he needed to know.

      Thinking about what he’d done, requesting the investigation, made him question his morals. Faye had a right to privacy and if she didn’t want him to know about her past then he ought to respect that. In any other instance he would. But this was Faye. This was the woman who’d let him be her first lover. This was the woman he’d fallen in love with. Not a sudden headlong lunge into love, but a long and growing respect that had evolved into so much more while they’d been snowbound at the lodge.

      He couldn’t just ignore what they could potentially have together. They both deserved to know exactly where they could go with the feelings she so determinedly kept shoving away.

      Piers went up to his master suite and stood at the window, looking out at the night sky. Ethics could take a hike. He had to know what he was dealing with here. How could he fight it, overcome it, if he didn’t know what it was? Knowing would at least allow him to metaphorically arm himself for what would be the most important battle of his life. The battle to win Faye’s heart.

      * * *

      The next few days passed in a blur of activity. The archive room next to the office Piers and Faye shared had been emptied and converted into a nursery for Casey. Thankfully the two nannies that had been both his and Faye’s top picks had been free to start working immediately and the roster system seemed to be working well.

      As to Faye, she appeared determined to spend as little time with him in the office as possible. She was constantly in another part of the building or out at meetings on his behalf for one thing and another. Normally he wouldn’t have questioned it, but in light of how she’d left his house earlier in the week he saw this as exactly what it was. Avoidance. Well, it didn’t matter. She had to come back to the office eventually and, when she did, he’d be waiting.

      There was still no news from the investigator regarding Faye’s past. Piers had begun to question whether he’d done the right thing—whether he shouldn’t just cancel the whole inquiry—but a niggling need to know now wouldn’t leave him.

      Another question had also taken up residence in his thoughts. Something his lawyer had discussed with him when he’d relayed the information from Casey’s mom. Greg, his lawyer, had asked what it could mean if the infertility angle from the woman’s other lover had just been something he had said to avoid responsibility. Or what if she’d made the whole thing up? She’d worked at the lodge that night and no doubt had some idea of the wealth behind the Luckman family. Maybe claiming Quin was the father was just an attempt to get a share of that wealth in exchange for the child?

      Piers rejected one of the questions immediately. If money had been Casey’s mom’s goal, she would have asked for it outright. She would hardly have left the baby with him the way she had. And while the fact that she’d had sex with Quin while apparently involved with someone else didn’t exactly speak volumes as to her reliability or her integrity, he didn’t believe her actions in abandoning Casey had been for her own financial gain.

      While Piers was convinced that Casey was his brother’s son, Greg had thrown another scenario at him. What if the boyfriend

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