Page 22 of Tangled in Temptation

“You were standing in the doorway pouting just like she does.”

“Touché.” He smiled. “Maybe we’ve spent enough time together that she has picked up some of my traits.”

“Just a few,” I teased.

“We used to spend a lot of time together,” he said. “Regina liked to travel or go to spas or whatever. It was often just me and Paisley for weeks.”

“What do you need to do in order for her to stay?” I asked, my tone more serious.

He sighed, the lines on his forehead deepening. “I don’t have any legal rights—”

“Then talk to Regina,” I suggested. “If she’s planning on sending Paisley to boarding school, why couldn’t Paisley just stay here instead?”

Timothy’s expression tightened, a mix of frustration and resignation. “I’ve asked for that countless times. I’ve all but begged. Paisley has begged. We’ve tried every possible angle. You don’t know Regina. She’s sharp, calculating. It’s not that simple.”

“Why are you so scared of her?” I blurted out before realizing the weight of my words. “You’re stupid rich. You have the power. I don’t understand why she’s pulling your strings.”

“I’m not scared of her. She just knows how to hurt people, and I’d rather not have her around. I don’t want you around her either. She’s evil.”

Timothy’s protectiveness, whether directed at Paisley or me, offered a glimmer of hope that fluttered in my chest. Maybe he did care about me. It was so hard to read the man. He was hot and cold and made me absolutely crazy.

“But she’s Paisley’s mother,” I countered, keenly aware that despite Regina’s toxic influence, she still had a biological tie to Paisley. “Isn’t there any mother instinct there you can appeal to? I thought mothers naturally wanted to protect their young.”

“Yeah, she is, but I think she’s the kind of mother that would happily eat her young.”

I laughed, even though it wasn’t funny. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m surprised Paisley is still as good as she is. I think her biggest crime to date is stealing her stepdad’s car. At least to my knowledge. I’m not sure I want to know what else she has done.”

“It was her way of rebelling,” I said.

Timothy nodded his agreement. “Every teenager has their way. But I worry that Regina is going to push her into something worse.”

“She’s smart,” I reassured him, touching his hand lightly. “She has a good head on her shoulders. I don’t think she’ll let herself be pushed too far. But I would imagine she’s still got plenty of rebellion in her just waiting to come out.”

“I wish I could believe that as strongly as you do. Unfortunately, I think she’s serious when she says she’ll run away. If that happens. I can’t imagine what kind of trouble she’ll find herself in. This is a cruel world. I don’t want her exposed to the nasty, vile people who would take advantage of her.”

“Trust in her,” I said, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “Believe in the person you helped raise. She’s strong, just like her dad. She’s still a teen, and you have to expect some level of teenage angst.”

Timothy gave a small sigh, his eyes still filled with worry. “I do trust her. It’s Regina I don’t trust. She can be manipulative when she wants to be—and that’s usually all the time. She looks for ways to manipulate people even when it isn’t necessary. It’s how she entertains herself.”

“I’m sorry. I really am. She doesn’t sound like a good person at all.”

“She isn’t,” he said. “But enough about her. The chef is here. Do you want some lunch? I think you’ll want to fortify yourself before you try and talk to Paisley.”

I chuckled. “Yes, thank you.”

We walked into the house together. It was good to be back in the place I had poured my blood, sweat, and tears into. I was happy to see the decorating had been tasteful. I could see some of Amber’s suggestions were kept, despite Regina doing her best to change it all.

As we entered the dining room, a man in white stood by the long oak table, setting down plates of exquisitely prepared food—a colorful salad, fresh bread warm enough that steam rose from it, and a creamy pasta dish that made my mouth water.

“Wow,” I said. “I was expecting a sandwich.”

Timothy chuckled. “I have a weakness for good food. And I want to make sure Paisley eats well.”

I felt like I was in a fine dining restaurant instead of Timothy’s dining room.

Chapter Eleven