Chapter 4: Fine, Mr. Turner, I accept.

"I think you're seriously confused," Diana told him the second the door closed and they were alone. "What exactly are you playing at, saying that to the kids? Look, Mr. Handsome, I know you think you're the last Coke in the desert because you're big and strong and powerful. But nobody—listen to me, nobody—is going to break my daughter's heart by making her believe things that are never going to happen."

Who did this man think he was?! Now it would be up to her to make Victoria understand that she couldn't see those children again, and that she wouldn't be living in the dream house they'd just described to her.

She'd seen the hope light up in her daughter's eyes the moment that arrogant man announced he needed to talk to his new mommy.

"First of all, sit down. I like to talk to people while looking them in the eye, so they know I'm telling the truth. And second, you can stop calling me Mr. Handsome. My name is Alexander Turner."

Diana searched her memory at the sound of that name.

She'd never paid much attention to her ex-husband's and her father's business dealings—the truth was, they'd always kept her at arm's length, treated her like a pretty vase to be admired and otherwise ignored.

"Turner. As in the Turner who owns that huge construction company and then tried to muscle into shipping." Diana was thinking out loud.

She'd heard her father curse that man's name more than once before her marriage to Izan.

Later, her ex-husband had suggested they seal an alliance through marriage specifically to knock Alexander out of the game. They hadn't managed it.

Now, more than ever, she'd have to be very careful he never found out whose daughter she was.

"I see you've done your homework." He answered with a note of pride in his achievements, then smiled. "Now that you know who I am, and that I'm a man of my word, I have a proposal for you. Think of it as a job."

Diana refused—absolutely refused—to acknowledge that every time that man smiled, she couldn't help remembering the night they'd spent together.

She'd thought him handsome that night, but the years had improved him the way they improve a good wine. How old could he even be? Thirty-five, maybe? But he looked stronger now, more commanding... Oh my God, he's talking and I haven't heard a single word he's said.

"Mm-hm, right, I understand. Sounds great," she said, so as not to admit she'd gone completely dazed over that mouth of his, remembering exactly what it had felt like against her body.

He flashed that smile again, and Diana blinked several times to keep from losing herself in her thoughts a second time.

"Perfect! I'll confess, I wasn't expecting to get this lucky today. I would've settled for finding a nanny for my kids, but after seeing your daughter and how they act around you—marrying you is the obvious solution."

Diana jumped in her seat and stared at him, eyes wide.

"M-m-m-marry you? What are you talking about?" He looked at her, confused.

"I just explained it. I said I was looking for a nanny, but what my kids actually need is a mother. Someone who's there for them full-time. I've done what I can."

"My wife died in a skiing accident. They never found... Well, that doesn't matter now. My kids were barely more than babies when she passed, and they've suffered for the loss of her ever since."

She ran her tongue over lips that had gone dry. She wanted to say something appropriate, something that wouldn't offend him—after all, she needed that receptionist job badly.

"Mr. Turner, that's... that's tragic. I'm so sorry."

"Call me Alexander. We're going to be married soon, after all. It'd be good if we tried to be friends, for the kids' sake."

"Mr. Turner," she repeated, so he'd understand she had no interest in being his friend. She wanted a boss, a job, a paycheck every month—without having to shake her backside to get men to look at her. "I think there's been some kind of misunderstanding. I'm not marrying anybody. I'm not looking for a husband; I already had enough of one of those. I'm here for the receptionist position."

Alexander huffed. She could tell by the way he'd gone rigid that he was starting to lose his patience.

Let him lose it, then, she thought. Typical of men who think they can always get their own way.

"It wouldn't be a real marriage—think of it as a transaction. You and your daughter would never want for anything, and my kids would get a mother. Everybody wins."

Diana crossed her arms and looked at him the way she'd look at an ant she wanted to squash.

"I am not a financial transaction, Mr. Turner. And I will not be sleeping with you for money. I'm not a piece of meat." She stood up, ready to leave. "Excuse me."

"You slept with me for free." At that, she froze, narrowed her eyes, and pointed a finger at him. He raised both hands like he was surrendering, and had the nerve to laugh. "Did I say anything that wasn't true? No. I'm just being honest. But if that's what's worrying you... you don't interest me in the slightest, as a woman."

She looked him up and down. God, the man was infuriatingly good-looking. And a complete idiot.

"Well, we finally agree on something. You don't interest me as a man, either."

"See? It's perfect. Why can't you see it? Neither of us wants a relationship. We wouldn't even have to share a bed—you could, you know... whatever you want. As long as you're discreet, and I'll do the same."

Diana felt a wave of sadness at his words. What was wrong with her that she couldn't be loved by anyone?

That was exactly why she didn't even want to think about marriage. She liked to act tough, but deep down, she was a dreamer.

She'd always believed she'd marry for love—that she'd love her husband and he'd love her back. She'd dreamed of a happily-ever-after, and that didn't exist. Not for her, anyway.

Diana had seen something different in that man, that night at the pub. She'd thought that if she found him again, told him they'd had a daughter together, maybe they... She needed to stop looking for Prince Charming.

"I'm not interested. I'm sorry," she said, with more sadness in her voice than she'd wanted to show.

Alexander sighed, as if he'd reached the end of his patience.

"How much would it take for you to say yes?" And with that single sentence, he finished crushing whatever hope she'd had left.

Diana let out a humorless laugh and studied him.

"Love isn't for sale, Mr. Turner. And the only reason I'd ever get married again would be for exactly that. Good day."

She opened the door and walked out of the office, shattered.

She hadn't gotten the receptionist job, and reality had just slapped her across the face in one clean blow.

She was almost at the daycare when a hand caught her arm and spun her around.

Alexander stood in front of her, out of breath from running to catch up.

"Fine. No wedding. But if you want the nanny position, it's yours. I have one condition: you'll need to move into my house."

It was a terrible idea.

Every internal alarm she owned was going off at full volume, her mind screaming at her to say "NO."

But then the two little ones came running the second they saw her, her own daughter right behind them. They looked happy together... like siblings.

If Victoria grew up and someday discovered that her mother's pride had kept her from being with them—from being with their father—her daughter would hate her for it.

Thinking of that, and knowing exactly how easily her little girl fell in love with people, she chose what was best for her.

"Fine, Mr. Turner. I accept."