Page 59 of Obsessed Mr. O’Brian

Lola cowers. Self-disgust rips through me, and I point at the sweetest little princess in the world. “I scared her. I’m still scaring her. I need to—”

“You are not leaving. Don’t even suggest it again,” Artur demands.

He doesn’t understand, and I don’t know how to make him see.

“But I—”

“She needs you,” he says.

“No she doesn’t. She has you,” I argue.

He pushes off the door, spears his hands into my hair, and holds my head captive.

“I need you, Millie,” he murmurs.

I blink.

“Lola needs you, too. We both do,” he insists.

I shake my head as much as his big hands allow.

“I couldn’t protect her. I failed.”

The first tear escapes my lashes. I didn’t even know I was on the verge of crying.

“You didn’t fail, you froze,” he says.

“Right. I did nothing except tell her to run off into a crowded park where she probably would have been kidna—”

Unyielding lips steal my words, and I struggle to breathe through the sudden, intense onslaught of teeth and tongue. I hold back for a few seconds purely from the shock, but the hot glide of his tongue against mine and the forbidden heat of his mouth lure me into responding. I push against his sides, but he’s too strong.

When he finally pulls back I already know I’ve lost, but he wrecks my composure with a few words.

“You told her to run to Daddy. I was right there, Millie. She ran straight to me, but I veered to you first. You did what you thought was best at the time. You kept her safe,” he explains.

I blink up at him. Lola grabs the hem of my shirt with a spit-covered hand.

“I need you to promise you won’t leave. Please,” he begs.

I can’t believe Artur O’Brian would beg anyone, much less me. He must be in shock. I slide my hand along his jaw to make sure I have his full attention.

“You said I froze, which means I put her in danger. I can’t be her nanny anymore.”

“No, it means you have PTSD,” he snarls.

I jerk as though my father slapped me. Artur doesn’t relent.

“You didn’t react that way at the conference. Your reaction today is because your father abused and assaulted you. He put you and Lola in danger, not you. You did nothing wrong,” he says.

The last of my defenses crack. Tears blur my vision and roll down my face.

Artur scoops up Lola and sets her on his hip before he slips his hand to my nape and tugs our foreheads together.

“We will get you the help you need, just like we’ll get help for Lola. You belong with us, Millie. We both need you,” he murmurs. “So stay. Please.”

I’m powerless against his pleading—and my soul-deep longing to keep them close—so I nod.

He kisses me and pulls me close. Lola climbs her way into my arms. I hug them both as though afraid they’ll disappear if I so much as loosen my pinky finger.