Reunited by the Tycoon's Twins

She shrugged. ‘There’s not much more to tell. And there’s nothing you can do.’ His grip on her ha

nd softened and she let her body follow, resting against the sofa cushions, still tucked into her little protective ball. But when she leaned against the sofa Finn’s shoulder was right there and in a breath, no more than two, her cheek was resting against it, drawing the heat from it. When his arm circled around her back to tuck her more firmly into his side, she didn’t fight it. With her toes tucked under his thigh and his arms a hard band of bone and muscle around her back and her waist, his shoulder the pillow under her cheek, she was surrounded by him.

If she dared open an eyelid, he would be her entire field of vision. He was the firm support under her head and the gentle strokes on her aching calves. He was the heavy weight on her feet and the rise and fall that was lulling her into sleep. He was the gentle huffs of breath, the slight movement as it nudged her hair.

The wormhole universe that they had created had shrunk around them until the only way that they could both exist inside it was by curling up tight. Tangling limbs around one another. Sharing a space that only seconds before had only been big enough for one. And for the first time in as long as she could remember she felt still. And quiet. And as sleep dragged her under she didn’t care what she was going to think about all this in the morning. All she cared about was the aching perfection of their universes merging and colliding, and finding peace there.

CHAPTER EIGHT

MADELEINE WAS IN his arms.

She was practically in his lap. Her feet were still tucked under his leg, her cheek on his shoulder. One hand rested on his chest.

He had no idea how long they had been asleep, but the sky was lightening and Hart’s swing had stopped moving. The dark circles had started to fade under Madeleine’s eyes, and it took more self-control than he realised he had not to stroke the skin there, to try and soothe her tiredness.

He could kick himself. It was his fault that she was so exhausted. As if she didn’t have enough going on in her life right now with losing her job and her flat, he had added sleep deprivation and crying babies onto her list of things to worry about. He should have just given her a place to stay, no questions asked, no strings attached. That was what she needed. That was what she deserved. Except he knew now that she wouldn’t have taken it. Jake must have known too, and he silently thanked his friend for looking out for Madeleine in a way that he hadn’t known how. From the moment that she had walked into his home she had thrown up walls between them so obvious that there hadn’t been any point offering to do this another way.

But last night she hadn’t shut him out. She had let him in and told him something that he had a sneaking suspicion she hadn’t told anyone else about before. And then she had curled into him and slept and he had held onto her and sworn that he would keep her safe. It didn’t matter that she was already gently snoring by then. It didn’t even matter than she had been doing a pretty good job of keeping herself safe. He was there for her now. Whenever she needed him. Whatever she wanted from him. He would be there.

Except... Except how could he promise that?

With his failed marriage and the business that was desperate for him to return. With two babies who would always, absolutely and without exception, always come first. He had let Caro down, had been too distant, too absent, too distracted. What there was of him to share hadn’t been enough for her, and that was even before the twins had come along. Now there was less of him than ever, and he wanted Madeleine to have more than that. She deserved someone who was devoted to her. Who she could rely on. Not someone who was already pulled in more directions than he knew how to handle.

But that was before he had woken up to her curled against his chest and tucked into his body. Now all his resolve was in very great danger of flying out of the window. What he wanted, more than anything, was to run his hands up the soft jersey covering her legs. To start at the delicate bone on her ankle that he hadn’t been able to leave alone last night. To stroke up over those strong, toned calves that he knew must be aching from their afternoon walking along the South Bank, and then the hours that they had spent pacing last night. He wanted to sweep his hands up over her back. To stop at the nape of her neck and pull her closer, to tip her face up to his and...

‘Finn? This is...’

Delicious? Incredible? Perfect?

‘Awkward,’ she finished, pulling herself away and tucking herself into a ball at the other end of the sofa. ‘I’m sorry,’ she carried on, wrapping her arms around her knees.

And he could see every single barrier that had dropped between them last night go flying back up. And he couldn’t even resent it, because she needed those barriers. They both did, because his own were faltering badly and one of them needed to be doing the sensible thing here: nipping this chemistry in the bud before it could get out of control and hurt one or both of them.

Since she had first walked in here, they had both known that there was something between them. The way that they had avoided one another over the past few years, he wondered if they had known it longer even than that. But they also knew that it was completely out of bounds. It wasn’t something that either of them was going to be permitted to explore. It was something to avoid. To push into a tiny, tiny space in his mind and ignore until he forgot about it. Simple as that.

‘No, don’t be sorry,’ he said, standing and turning to the kettle. Anything for a distraction while he tried to compose himself and stuff his feelings into the tiny box where they belonged. Somehow both the babies were still sleeping. No wonder, he supposed, having been awake half the night. If they could keep it up long enough for him to have his first drink of the day then that would be just perfect.

When he turned back round with a cup of tea in each hand, Madeleine was perching on the edge of the sofa, cardigan wrapped tight around her. It didn’t take a genius to work out that she was on the defensive. That cardigan, as deliciously soft as it had been against his skin when he had blinked awake a few minutes ago, was now being deployed as armour.

How could he blame her? If she was feeling anything like as conflicted as he was this morning then she would need it.

He glanced at his phone and flicked through his email, still not ready to look at Madeleine. Ah. The nanny agency. That was safe ground.

‘They’ve sent me a shortlist,’ he said casually, ‘of nannies to interview. Are you still okay to help with that? They’ve said they can send them over tomorrow.’

‘Sure. Do you need to go into the office today?’

‘Not if I can help it. But I could do with getting a few hours of work in my home office if we can manage it?’

‘Sure. Let me know what you need.’

If they could just stay out of one another’s way today, maybe this awkwardness would wear off and they would find themselves back to normal tomorrow, he told himself. They’d go into his office and interview nannies and pretend that she hadn’t spent the night in his arms, however unusual the circumstances.

Work was the distraction that he needed this morning. The reminder that his business still owed an unimaginably large amount of money for the new office building they had just taken possession of, and he couldn’t afford another day away from his computer, Sunday or not.

By tomorrow, Madeleine and the twins would have had a couple of days to get used to one another and he could go into work with a clear conscience. But he couldn’t leave Madeleine completely alone with them after the night that they’d had. Not just the lack of sleep, but Madeleine had opened up to him, made herself vulnerable, and it didn’t feel right walking out and leaving her to deal with the fallout on her own. He had told her last night that he wanted to be here for her, and he’d meant it.

CHAPTER NINE