world. She breathed in Ellie’s sweet baby smell and unexpected tears made her eyes ache.
Fairy tales didn’t always end with Prince Charming saving the day. Sometimes, the real fairy story was just about love. And there was no greater love than what she felt for her daughter. It was the most important chapter in her book. She couldn’t push it to the back, like an appendix that was an after thought. Every decision she made in life was guided by Ellie.
This could be no different.
Hendrix Forrester would storm through her life, burning brightly and fiercely hot, but he’d disappear as quickly as he’d emerged. And then she’d be alone again with Ellie.
What if Ellie got hurt? What if she got used to him? What if she liked him, too?
Chloe squeezed her eyes shut, hating her softness. Hating that tears sprung so easily to her eyes when she was trying to be strong. She’d spent years subjugating her needs to ensure Ellie had everything she could possibly need. This was no different.
She switched her phone off and wrapped both arms tightly around her daughter. They were a pair, and that was just fine by Chloe.
* * *
Hendrix glared angrily at the notes Clint Douglas had made earlier that day. His neat, precise handwriting had detailed every element of the conversation he’d had with William Ansell-Johns and his own divorce attorney.
And what Hendrix saw, written between the lines, in the words that Clint hadn’t committed to paper, was that William was playing to win.
William was striking out at Chloe in a way that would wound her beyond belief, unless she went back to him.
Chloe.
His gut squeezed as he thought of the woman he intended to use as a pawn. The woman who’d tasted what he had to offer and had point blank refused to have anything more to do with him.
Hendrix Forrester didn’t chase women. After several calls were ignored, and texts were responded to with the briefest formality, he had realised that he’d played Chloe all wrong.
He’d scared her.
The strength of what she’d felt had terrified her.
And so he’d forced himself to bide his time.
Two long weeks had passed, and today, she was coming to his office.
His smile was without humour. Undoubtedly the fact that the venue was so non-threatening, and that he was her lawyer, were the only reasons she’d agreed to meet him.
He glanced at his gold wristwatch for the tenth time that hour. She was late. Only a few minutes, but he’d been waiting for her all day. Hell, he’d been waiting for two weeks. He returned his attention to the notes, his temper spiking at Wiliam’s outrageous behaviour.
Then again, what else could be expected of a man so coldly brutal as Ansell-Johns?
“Sir?” Maria’s sleek head appeared around his doorway. “Mrs Ansell-Johns is here to see you.”
The name was like acid being dribbled over his flesh. He stood fluidly, buttoning his jacket as he looked towards the door. His face was all nonchalance, but inside, his body was begging him to move closer to the door.
She appeared, backlit by sun drifting in through the windows, slender and petite. It was a cool Autumnal afternoon, and she’d dressed in a black suit and a thick grey trench coat. A pale pink scarf at her neck complemented her pastel complexion.
Her face was ... beautiful.
He sucked in a breath as he took in her features as though he was seeing her for the first time. Not as Chloe Ansell-Johns, and a tool he could wield to hurt the man he hated. But as a woman. A woman he wanted.
“Hendrix,” she spoke quietly, and with a tone of steel that he knew, somehow, was costing her to produce.
“Chloe,” he responded, his face gently mocking. “I thought you might have forgotten my name.”
Her throat moved as she swallowed. “No.” A simple admission, but one that he understood.
“Come in,” he gestured for her to sit in one of the sofas. “Tea? Coffee?”