Win My Love (Love's Second Chance Book 3)

by Scott,Scarlett

  Oh God. Wynne swallowed hard. “Sort of.”

  “I didn’t see my daddy ever afore,” Paige confided in Derek.

  “He must be very busy if he can’t visit with you.” He turned to Wynne, his gaze filled with questions that weren’t his to ask. The look she directed his way told him as much.

  He seemed to get the hint, remaining silent for a few moments before he stunned her again. “I really need to speak with you in private.”

  Her fingers tightened on Paige’s. “Why?”

  “I’d rather wait to tell you.” He cast a meaningful look down at Paige. “Little ears.”

  “I have nothing to say to you,” Wynne said softly, hoping her daughter wouldn’t overhear her being so rude to her beloved “prince.”

  “Please. It’s important.”

  He was an insistent man. But that was the result of getting what he wanted, whenever he wanted it, no matter the cost. He’d been a famous actor at the age of nineteen, for heaven’s sake. Being demanding had to come with the territory.

  Before Wynne could formulate a response, Paige stumbled and fell onto the sidewalk. Wynne knelt before her in an instant, picking her back up and examining her knees for scratches. Paige began wailing as soon as she got a look at the bloody scrape along her right knee. Wynne was chagrined to note that Derek too had dropped to his knees and looked every bit as concerned.

  “You’ll have to clean that up for her,” he said.

  Wynne shot him a look. “I realize that, thank you.” She was the mother here. He had just met Paige for the first time today. Who did he think knew more about how to take care of her?

  “Can you carry me?” Paige asked between sniffles and wails.

  “Of course.” Wynne reached out to pick her up, but Paige shrugged out of reach.

  “No, I want the prince.”

  What? Wynne watched in dumbfounded horror as Derek Shaw scooped her daughter into his capable movie-star arms and she tucked her head into the crook of his neck. He looked perfectly at home carrying a child in his arms, she thought before she could stop herself. No, he didn’t, she amended. Not at all. She was Paige’s mother. She was the one who had soothed her every boo-boo for the last four years. Not him.

  And yet here she was, watching Paige snuggle up into the arms of a drunken playboy. To make matters worse, Derek seemed to sense her feelings, because he sent her a sympathetic look.

  “I’m new,” he said by way of explanation. “Besides, it’s not every day you run across a prince.”

  Wynne offered a noncommittal sound in response and trailed behind Derek and Paige the entire way back to the shop. She had a terrible feeling their nice, orderly lives would never be the same again. The longer he lingered, probing and endearing himself to Paige, the easier it would be for him to discover the truth. And she could not allow that to happen.

  Absolutely not.

  There was only one solution. Get rid of Derek Shaw as quickly as possible, by any means possible. Even if it meant fighting dirty. She would do anything for her daughter.

  Derek blew on Paige’s knee to curb the sting of the peroxide he’d dabbed onto her abrasion and smiled at her in reassurance. She grinned back at him. Paige had requested—despite her mother’s extreme disapproval—that he play doctor and bandage her “ouchies”. He was dutifully fulfilling his role and finding that to his surprise, he actually enjoyed it. After so many years in the spotlight, it was nice to be a normal person, just a man. Thank God the paparazzi hadn’t found him here.

  “Do you have bandages?” he asked Paige’s mother, painfully aware she hovered in the doorway, watching him as if he were the antichrist.

  “They’re in the medicine cabinet,” she told him, her tone cool. “The princess ones.”

  “Of course.” He reached behind Paige to pull open the cabinet and winked at her as he pulled the box from the bottom shelf. “Princess bandages for a princess.”

  “Yep.” She swung her dangling feet back and forth.

  Derek attached a princess strip to her knee with care. “There. How does that feel?”

  “All better,” she said. “Thank you, Prince.”

  He offered her a mock bow that had her giggling. “I’m happy to come to your rescue any time.”

  “Okay, Paige,” intruded her mother’s voice. “Time for bed.”

  Paige frowned. “Mama.”

  “No complaining,” her mother ordered crisply. “It’s already past your bedtime. Go get your pajamas on.”

  “Okay.” She held out her arms to Derek and he lowered her to the floor.

  Strangely, he was as reluctant as Paige to put an end to their impromptu session of make-believe. He rather liked being looked at as if he were a hero. It sure as hell beat the mindless adulation usually directed his way. As he watched her skip down the hallway to her bedroom, something tugged at his heart. It had been a long time since someone outside his circle looked at him with genuine emotion.

  “You have an adorable daughter,” he said to the girl’s mother.

  God, he realized, he still didn’t even know her name, which was a definite problem given his reason for seeking her out. After his run-in with her that morning, he’d become convinced that he had had some sort of relationship with the woman before him. Hazy snippets had filtered back to him throughout the wedding and reception, driving him back to find her. Part of recovery was facing his actions and making amends.

  But there had also been something about the little girl, something he couldn’t define, that made him feel oddly protective. Maybe it was that she looked so innocent in a world that was anything but. He couldn’t put his finger on it.

  “Thank you.” She refused to meet his gaze, staring instead down the hallway where her daughter had disappeared.. “I think she’s adorable too, but of course I’m biased.”

  “Thanks for letting me intrude.” He stepped closer to her.

  Her gaze flew to him, and she abruptly backed out of the doorway and into the living room. Derek followed her, noting that while the apartment above the flower shop was small, it was cozy and tastefully decorated. The walls of the living room were painted a warm terracotta that brought out the natural hues of the old plank floors. A couch and small chair were positioned on throw rugs, and antique photographs of Atlantic decorated the walls. It was all very homey. Personal and warm, so unlike the gargantuan home he’d shared with his soon-to-be-ex-wife Trina.

  She paced to the opposite side of the room, heels clicking on the floor, as though she couldn’t get far enough away from him. She turned back, green eyes flashing. “It’s not as if you gave me a choice, is it?” She folded her arms over her breasts, causing them to spill out the top of her dress more than she probably knew. “Do you have a reason for playing prince charming with my daughter?”

  Her comment stung. “I wasn’t playing anything. I wanted—no needed—to talk with you.”

  “Well?” She tapped her foot, the perfect ice queen.

  “Were you and I ever…” He stumbled a bit over the words. “What I’m trying to say is that you seemed to know me when we met earlier in your shop.”

  “The only time I’ve ever seen you before today was in the movie theater, Mr. Shaw. And you were on the screen, not in the audience.”

  He didn’t believe her for an instant. “Then why do you hate me?”

  She tilted her head to the side, considering him. “What’s the matter? Is this the first time you’ve ever met someone who doesn’t like you? It must be quite a novel experience.”

  Her bitter sarcasm wasn’t lost on him. But damn it, he knew there was more to this thing between them than she was admitting. He could feel it. And maybe it shouldn’t bother him. Maybe he should just walk out the door right now. Clearly this woman wanted no part of him, and though he was attracted to her, the last thing he wanted was a new relationship at the moment. His divorce was almost finalized and he was just getting back to normal. But there was something in his gut, raw and real, that wouldn’
t let him walk away. He decided he’d have to switch tactics with her, knock aside her cool façade.

  “If we’ve never met,” he said slowly, “then why do I know what you look like naked?”

  She stared and he could see her bravado failing her. That had shaken her up, more than he had even expected. But just as quickly as his arrow had hit its mark, she pulled herself together. “While in some ways it’s gratifying that you’re having fantasies about me, on another level, I don’t think I really would like a stalker. Even if you are a celebrity.”

  “Very funny.” Derek was at a stalemate with her. She just wouldn’t budge. “It doesn’t matter if you keep denying it.” He sauntered forward and invaded her space just to take her out of her comfort zone again. “You know the truth and sooner or later, I will too.”

  She eyed him with steely determination. “You think we slept together, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” he said evenly. “I do.”

  A smile curved her lips. “What’s my name?”

  Shit. He racked his mind frantically. What was the name of the flower shop? Was it her name?

  “That’s what I thought.” Her voice was smug. “So let me get this straight. You don’t know my name and you don’t remember whether or not we actually slept together. You just have this vague idea that we did because you can picture me naked. Is that right?”

  When she put it that way, it did sound ridiculous. Only it wasn’t ridiculous, because he knew there had been something between them. Just like he knew that her name was Wynne. Yes, Wynne. That was it.

  It was his turn to be smug. “Your name is Wynne. And I don’t just know what you look like naked. I remember other details too.”

  “Oh really.” She didn’t believe him. He could tell from her tone. “So you guessed my name from the flower shop. Not very creative.”

  More fuzzy details crept through his mind. He could hear her moaning his name. He remembered cradling her to him, whispering, “Stay with me tonight.” And he knew then they had slept together. It wasn’t just a feeling anymore. True, the memories were ragged around the edges, but it was coming back to him now.

  “No,” he said. “You were in my hotel room. On my bed. I remember asking you to stay the night.”

  He heard her breath hitch in her throat as her gaze became shuttered. “I think you should leave.”

  “Mama?” Paige padded into the room in pink pajamas and fuzzy cat slippers.

  Wynne rushed to her daughter as though Paige could somehow save her from him and the truth he was unraveling. “Did you brush your teeth, sweet pea?”

  Paige nodded. “Yep. And I even rinseded my mouth out.”

  “Rinsed,” Wynne corrected. “Great job. Why don’t you say good night to Mr. Shaw?”

  Though it was clearly not what her mother had intended, Paige raced to Derek and threw her arms around his legs. He bent down to return the embrace, and she pressed a wet kiss to his cheek.

  “G’night, Prince,” she said.

  She smelled like strawberry toothpaste and felt warm and soft in his arms. She was so innocent it made his heart physically ache. To be so happy, so carefree. For Wynne to live every day with this wonderful child—he hoped she knew just how incredibly lucky she was.

  “Night,” he returned, aware his throat had thickened.

  She peered into his face. “When can I see you again, Prince?”

  He wanted to say tomorrow. But he couldn’t. He was planning to leave the next day to pick up his things at Logan’s where he’d been staying since leaving rehab and move back to LA to sort out his life. Besides, Paige’s beloved mama wasn’t exactly thrilled with him, even if his steamy recollections suggested she had been at some point during their acquaintance. Maybe paying for this particular past sin wasn’t in the cards.

  “Mr. Shaw is just visiting,” said Wynne, saving him from a response. “He has to go back to his home.”

  “You do?” Paige pouted, looking crestfallen. “Where do you live?”

  “California,” he answered, “although I’ve been staying here for a while.”

  “Californium.” She nodded, curls bobbing. “That’s where my daddy lives. Did you ever meet him?”

  “I doubt it,” he told her gently. “What’s his name?”

  “Daddy,” Paige answered, looking at him as if he were an idiot.

  “Okay,” interrupted Wynne, stepping in and picking up Paige in her arms. Her face was flushed. “It’s Paige’s bedtime.” She sent Derek a cold glance. “You can show yourself out, Mr. Shaw.”

  With that, she clipped back down the hallway, Paige in her arms. “If you see my daddy, tell him to come ’n visit me,” Paige called.

  “I will,” he promised, bemused by this latest revelation. It didn’t take a genius to realize that Wynne became incredibly uncomfortable at the slightest mentioning of Paige’s father. The question was, why?

  He gathered his discarded coat and headed down the stairs, an odd feeling swirling through his gut. As he walked back out into the glacial temperatures of the night, he tossed about all the facts he knew about Paige’s father in his mind. She had never met him, he was too busy to visit her, and he lived in Californium, as she charmingly called it. There was something very wrong about the entire picture, he thought as he headed back to the hotel.

  Something very wrong.

  He didn’t make it half a block before revelation crashed over him with the force of a tsunami surge. If he’d slept with Wynne as he suspected, it had to have been five years ago when he was in Atlantic filming. That was before he’d been with Trina. He’d never cheated on her no matter how wasted he’d been. Paige looked about four years old, a fact that, combined with Wynne’s unreasonable hostility for him, sent him back to her door. He knew all too well the risks he’d taken in those days. He probably hadn’t worn a condom.

  Jesus.

  “Wynne! Open up right now!” As he started pounding the door with his fist, he decided he’d give her two minutes before he’d try to break the damn thing down. Let her call the police. He was hell-bent on finding out the truth. Tonight.

  My God. If Paige was his daughter…his thought processes didn’t even know where to begin. She deserved to have a father in her life—she wanted to have a father in her life. Could he be the father she’d never met? It all sounded one-hundred-percent insane and yet it added up.

  “Wynne!” He raised his fist to hammer at the door again when it swept open to reveal the very object of all his ire.

  “What’s the matter with you?” she demanded. “Are you crazy? Haven’t you gotten the point?”

  “Yes. I think I did get the point. That’s exactly why I’m standing here right now.”

  Her expression clouded. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about Paige,” he said savagely. “I’m talking about all your lies. I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, Wynne. Let me the hell in. Now.”

  “Not when you’re like this.” She shook her head and backed up a step. “I don’t have to listen to anything you say to me. I don’t have to let you in my house. In fact, I think you should leave. Go back to LA and your mansion and your famous actress and forget you ever met us.”

  He ignored her tirade. “She’s mine, isn’t she?” His hands fisted at his sides. He’d never been so tempted to hit something as he was right now. He wanted to smash his fist into the wall.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She tried to slam the door closed in his face, but he caught it and pushed it inward.

  Wynne backed up, looking wary. He stalked forward, kicking the door closed. The twin bells above it rang wildly. She held out her hands.

  “Please, calm down. Paige is upstairs.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you.” He followed her. “I just want the truth, damn it.”

  “I told you the truth. I never met you until this morning. Leave my daughter and me alone!” she shouted, chest heaving.

  “Explain to
me how it is that Paige’s father lives in California and she’s never met him,” he countered. “Or why you act like someone dumped a tray of ice cubes in your panties every time you see me. Explain to me whose child she really is, if not mine.”

  Wynne looked at him, seemingly at a loss. Finally, she pushed at his chest with a surprising amount of force. “Why do you have to do this? Why can’t you just go away and stay out of our lives?”

  “Because if Paige is my daughter,” he said intently, catching her wrists and pulling her against him, “how can I walk away from that?”

  “She’s my daughter.” Tears clung to Wynne’s lashes. “She’s not yours. Just walk out that door and never come back.”

  “Don’t you think she deserves to meet her father?” He held her tightly, forcing her to look him in the eye. “Christ, I met her for the first time and her daddy was all she could talk about. Don’t you think she deserves to know her daddy isn’t really too busy for her?”

  “No.” The tears were slipping down her cheeks in earnest now. “You have no right to just walk in here and pretend to be her father.”

  “Pretend?” He was incredulous. “I am her father. Look me in the eye and tell me I’m not.”

  “I hate you!” she spat at him. “You didn’t even remember! You didn’t even remember my name, and you think you can just play daddy and everything will be okay. I won’t let you do that to her. I won’t let you get her hopes up and then leave her.”

  “I won’t leave her.”

  “So you don’t live in Los Angeles?” She raked him with a scornful glare, sniffing. “You’re not a drunken playboy who cares more about what’s in his glass than a little girl who needs a real father?”

  “I’m not the man you think I am,” he told her firmly. “I’m in recovery now. You’ve judged me already and you haven’t even given me a chance. How dare you decide to keep her from me? I lost four years, four goddamn years with her because of your self-righteousness.”

  “I didn’t want my daughter to be raised by an alcoholic who sleeps with so many women he can’t keep them straight!” She tore herself away from his grasp.