Meeting his Son

The Maybach glided through the city's upscale district, away from Nicole's modest apartment building. She watched the scenery change from cramped storefronts to manicured lawns and towering mansions.

"Where are we going?" Nicole asked, though part of her already knew the answer.

"My home," Timothy replied, his eyes never leaving the road ahead. "We have work to discuss."

Something in his tone made Nicole's pulse quicken. The way he said 'work' suggested something far more personal than business.

Timothy's estate was breathtaking-a modern masterpiece of glass and steel nestled behind iron gates and perfectly landscaped gardens. As they pulled up the circular driveway, Nicole felt increasingly out of place.

"Timothy, this is beautiful, but I don't understand why-"

"You'll understand soon enough," he said, helping her from the car with that same possessive touch that made her skin tingle.

The interior was just as impressive-all clean lines and expensive art, but somehow it felt cold, lacking warmth or personal touches. Timothy led her through the foyer, his hand on the small of her back guiding her forward.

"Daddy!"

The small voice made them both stop. A little boy with Timothy's dark hair and eyes came running down the marble staircase, followed closely by an older woman who was clearly his nanny.

"Mr. Cole, I'm so sorry," the woman said breathlessly. "He escaped from his bath when he heard the car."

Timothy's entire demeanor shifted as he knelt down to catch the boy in his arms. The cold, calculating businessman vanished, replaced by something softer, more human.

"Hey there, troublemaker," Timothy said, his voice gentle in a way Nicole had never heard before. "What did we say about running around naked?"

The little boy giggled, completely comfortable in his father's arms. "But Daddy, I missed you! Mrs. Patterson said you brought a lady home, who is she to you?."

Timothy's eyes met Nicole's over his son's head, something unreadable flickering in their depths. "This is Nicole. She works with Daddy."

"Hi, Nicole!" the boy said with infectious enthusiasm. "I'm Sebastian! Are you pretty like Daddy says all his lady friends are?"

Nicole felt her cheeks burn, but Timothy's expression darkened. "Sebastian, what have I told you about repeating things you overhear?"

"But you did say she was pretty," Sebastian insisted with four-year-old logic. "I heard you on the phone with Uncle Marcus."

The nanny quickly scooped up the boy. "Come on, Sebastian. Let's get you properly dressed and ready for bed."

As they disappeared upstairs, an awkward silence fell between Timothy and Nicole. She couldn't stop thinking about what Sebastian had said-Timothy had been talking about her to others?

"He's beautiful," Nicole said finally. "I didn't know you had a son."

"There are many things you don't know about me," Timothy replied, his mask sliding back into place. "Come. We need to talk."

He led her to a spacious living room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the gardens. A fire crackled in the stone fireplace, casting dancing shadows on the walls.

"Drink?" Timothy asked, moving to a well-stocked bar.

"I probably shouldn't-"

"It wasn't really a question," he said, pouring two glasses of what looked like expensive whiskey.

Nicole accepted the glass, noting how Timothy watched her every movement. The way he looked at her made her feel exposed, vulnerable, like he could see straight through her clothes to her soul.

"You're wondering why I brought you here," Timothy said, settling into the leather chair across from her.

"

The thought had crossed my mind."

"I wanted you to see this. All of it." He gestured around the room, his eyes never leaving hers. "This is what I'm offering you, Nicole. A life most women would kill for."

Nicole's heart hammered against her ribs as cold sweat beaded at the nape of her neck. "Timothy, I just started working for you today. This feels like-"

Timothy closed the distance between them in two swift strides, looming over her chair. When he dropped to one knee before her, she could smell his cologne-sandalwood and something darker, more primal. His hand gripped her wrist, his thumb pressing against her racing pulse.

"Tell me you don't feel it," he demanded, his voice a dangerous whisper. "Tell me your body isn't screaming for mine right now."

Nicole couldn't breathe. His touch burned through her skin, igniting something molten in her core. She tried to look away but his other hand seized her chin, forcing her gaze to his.

"I-I can't deny the attraction," she gasped, her voice betraying her. "But this is madness. I barely know you, and you have a son-"

"Sebastian is not your concern," Timothy cut in, his fingers tightening on her wrist. "And you... you're nothing like the others."

"Others?" The word escaped as barely a whisper.

Timothy's smile was razor-sharp, his eyes glittering with dangerous intent. "Did you honestly believe you were the first woman I've brought into my home, Nicole? The first to sit where you're sitting, trembling exactly as you are now?"

The words hit her like a slap. Of course there had been others. A man like Timothy Cole wouldn't lack for female companionship.