Worth Everything (Worth It 4)

He wanted to solve all her problems but he didn’t know if he was capable. He had no control over the Worths. And the Renaldi business structure was locked tight by the ironclad will Giorgio Renaldi had drawn up.

She might end up the lost little princess forever.

“I hate feeling sorry for myself,” she choked out, wiping the tears away from her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I hate all of this crying and carrying on. I don’t do this sort of thing, always prided myself on not being a weepy, weak female. But after the will reading, I cried for days straight. I thought all my tears had finally dried up, but being here, with my mother…hearing the entire story, hearing her apologize and then turn around and point fingers at my father, point fingers at me, I...” She shook her head, too consumed to speak any longer.

That did it. He touched her, wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck, massaging her soft, sensitive skin. A shiver moved through her, and she whimpered, “I’m so tired of all this.”

“You realize it could take years to clear everything up,” he said. She tensed beneath his hand, inhaling sharply. “Depending on what you want and what the Worths are willing to give you, the case could be tied up in the courts for years. And then there’s your fight with the Renaldi end.”

“I’m not fighting Renaldi. Why would I fight my family?”

“Why are you thinking of fighting Worth if they’re your family too?”

“I don’t want to fight any of them. Can’t you understand that?” Fresh tears started, and he felt like an ass. Felt like it was his fault she was crying, which he knew was irrational. Unable to stop himself, he knelt beside the chair and reached for her, drawing her into his arms. Pushed gently on the back of her head so she pressed her face into his neck, her tears wetting his skin.

He let her cry for long, quiet minutes. Held her there, propped against the chair, nearly toppling over a few times but he didn’t move.

Didn’t want to let her down. Everyone else had in her life lately and he didn’t want to be another name she added to her shit list.

She finally pulled away from him, her face red, her nose redder and her eyes still shiny. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? Getting the front of my shirt wet?” He was trying for humor, however weak it might be, and his question earned a small smile from her.

“For falling apart on you. For making you pretend to be my boyfriend.”

“It’s all right.” He slipped his hand over her hair, wanting to soothe. Wanting to…he didn’t know. Let her know she was in capable hands? After his shitty childhood he’d vowed never to become dependent on someone. Or let someone else become dependent on him.

Funny how much he wanted Stasia to know she could count on him.

“You’ve had to deal with a lot more than originally proposed.”

He shrugged. “It happens. I’m used to thinking on my feet.” Should he tell her why? Share bits and pieces of his past so she understood him more clearly?

Would she even care?

“Of course, you are.” She shook her head, released a long, shuddering sigh. “My head hurts.”

“Let’s take a swim,” he suggested.

She reared back, her puzzled gaze meeting his. “What?”

“Just for a few minutes. You need to clear your mind. You’ve been crying and then what, you’ll go to bed? Your head will be killing you in the morning.” He was trying to be kind. Trying to take care of her and be a thoughtful person.

He wasn’t thinking of getting her naked and into that pool. Wasn’t thinking of getting himself naked and into that pool either. He was never one who thought with his dick, not normally. He was better than that, over that whole horn dog scene that had consumed him during his late teens and early twenties.

She sniffed. “I don’t know if I want to swim…”

“I’ll join you.”

Her gaze turned skeptical. “I bet you will.”

He chuckled. She saw right through him. “Nothing but swimming, I promise.”

“What if my mother is still out there?”

“I doubt that.” He released his hold on her and stood, went to the window that faced the terrace. The pool was lit, the water rippling from the faint breeze that stirred the air. No one was around. The terrace was abandoned. “She’s gone. No one’s out there.”

“I don’t know…”