Page 15 of The Don's Secret Heir

Especially since there’s only one way I can think of to control this situation.

I walk her upstairs, slowly because of her knees, and she holds onto the railing.

I make a side trip into the hallway bathroom and rifle through the medicine cabinet until I find some over the counter painkillers.

I pour a plastic cup full of water and hand it to her with the pills.

“Take these.”

She takes them without complaint, surprising me. She must really be in pain.

“You’re welcome to choose any room you like to sleep in.”

She shakes her head. “I’ll just bunk with Sonny. I don’t want to put you out.”

I snort. “I’m a single man living in a twenty-bedroom house. It’s not putting me out.”

“Still. He gets scared in new places.”

She looks up at me and I take a step toward her. She doesn’t back away, just looks up at me with unreadable gray eyes.

I lean down slightly, so close I could catch her mouth with mine, press her back against the wall, wrap her legs around my waist.

I bet she’d be wet already, like she always used to be. Pleasure rolls down my spine and I fight to keep my dick from hardening.

Even if I want her around, I’m not allowing myself to get pulled back into her orbit. Not ever again.

But I can’t leave her to drown, either. Not when she has a kid to support.

I’d always thought it wasn’t possible to hate him any more than I already do—the man she left me for, the man she had akidwith, but now, I want to put him underground.

What kind of man abandons his child?

“Dario... what are you doing?”

Coming back to myself, I blink. I reach out to tuck a brown curl over her ear.

“Like you better as a brunette. Is this your natural color?”

She swallows visibly, touching one of her curls. “Yeah. Got tired of bleaching it and damaging it.”

“It suits you,” I murmur, and force myself to step away from her. “Sonny’s in this room here, right next to mine.”

I jerk my head toward the master bedroom. She glances at it but then turns back to me.

“Why do you still have the penthouse if you’re living here?” she asks.

I shrug, grinning wickedly. “Don’t always want everyone I sleep with to know where I live.”

She huffs. “So you only take women there.”

“Yep.”

“Some things never change,” she mutters.

I frown, staring at her. She has no right to judge me for sleeping around, not after what she did. About five minutes after she left me, she got pregnant by someone else, so she’s being a hypocrite.

But I don’t bring it up.