Chapter 3

The car ride home had become the most unsettling part of my day.

It wasn't the traffic or the late hour—it was the woman sitting beside me, fidgeting uncomfortably in the passenger seat of my Bentley. For the third time in five minutes, Nora shifted position, a small grimace crossing her face as she discreetly pressed her arm against her chest.

I kept my eyes fixed on the road, pretending not to notice. But the soft gasp she let out when we hit a pothole made it impossible to maintain the charade.

"Are you alright?" I asked, glancing sideways.

Nora's cheeks flushed pink. "I'm fine, Mr. Martinez. Just... it's nothing."

But as we rounded another corner, the slight jostling of the car caused her to wince again. This time, I noticed a dark spot forming on her light blue blouse.

"You're not fine," I said, my voice coming out more authoritative than I'd intended. "What's wrong?"

She hesitated, clearly embarrassed. "It's just... I'm still nursing Noah, and I usually express milk during the day, but today was so busy with Lily that I didn't get a chance, and now..." She trailed off, her blush deepening.

Understanding dawned on me, along with a wave of heat that had nothing to do with the car's temperature. I cleared my throat, keeping my eyes determinedly on the road.

"I see. Would you like me to pull over somewhere?"

"No, no," she said quickly. "I just need some tissues if you have any."

I reached into the console between us, retrieving a pack of tissues and handing them to her without looking. From my peripheral vision, I could see her dab at the damp spots on her blouse, her movements quick and mortified.

"I'm so sorry about this," she murmured. "It's completely unprofessional."

"There's nothing to apologize for," I replied, striving for a neutral tone despite the unexpected intimacy of the moment. "It's a natural bodily function. If you need to adjust your schedule to accommodate pumping, just let me know."

She nodded gratefully, still pressing the tissues against her chest. "Thank you. I usually manage it during Lily's nap, but she was restless today."

The remainder of the drive passed in silence, but I couldn't stop my mind from wandering to the woman beside me—to the fullness of her breasts, heavy with milk for her child. It was a primal, maternal image that should have been clinical in my mind, yet instead stirred something hot and possessive in my core.

I gripped the steering wheel tighter, disgusted with myself. What kind of man gets aroused by a nursing mother's discomfort? By his employee's embarrassment?

The next day, I made a point of giving Nora more space. I instructed Mrs. Patel to ensure Nora had private time during Lily's nap, and I deliberately scheduled meetings during the hours I would normally be home.

But by the weekend, I found myself with no excuses to stay away. Lily had been especially clingy lately, demanding my attention when I was home, and I couldn't deny her—not when I already gave so much time to the business.

I found them in the garden, Nora sitting cross-legged on a blanket while Lily toddled around, examining flowers with intense concentration. The sight of them together—Nora's patient smile as she named each bloom Lily brought her—created a tightness in my chest I couldn't explain.

"She's quite the botanist already," I remarked, approaching them.

Nora looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun. "Mr. Martinez! We didn't expect you home so early."

"Anthony," I corrected her. "Please. When we're not in formal settings, I'd prefer you call me Anthony."

She nodded, though I could see the hesitation in her eyes—the careful maintenance of professional boundaries.

"I can take her for a while if you need a break," I offered, noticing the slight shadows beneath Nora's eyes. "You've been with her since early morning."

"That's very kind, but unnecessary," she began, but I cut her off gently.

"I insist. Take an hour. Rest, or... whatever you need to do." I couldn't bring myself to directly reference her nursing needs, but the slight widening of her eyes told me she understood.

"Thank you," she said softly. "I'll just be in my quarters then."

As she walked away, I couldn't help but notice the sway of her hips, the way her simple sundress hugged curves that seemed fuller than when she'd first arrived. I forced my gaze away, focusing instead on Lily, who was already tugging at my hand to show me her latest discovery.

Later that afternoon, I found myself lingering in the doorway of the nursery, watching as Nora sat with Lily on the floor, teaching her how to feed her doll with a toy bottle.

"That's right, Lily," she encouraged, her voice warm with approval. "Hold the bottle just like that. You're such a good mommy to your baby."

Lily's face lit up with delight, her small hands carefully cradling the doll as she mimicked Nora's demonstrated actions. Nora laughed—a genuine, melodious sound that seemed to brighten the entire room—and the sight of her joy struck me with unexpected force.

I couldn't remember the last time there had been such unguarded happiness in this house. Since losing Lily's mother, the mansion had been efficient, organized, but rarely joyful. Now, watching Nora's animated expressions as she played with my daughter, I realized how much life she had brought into our sterile existence.

"Mr. Martinez—Anthony," she corrected herself, noticing me in the doorway. "Would you like to join us? Lily is learning to be quite the caregiver."

I stepped into the room, lowering myself to the carpet beside them. "I can see that. She has an excellent teacher."

Nora smiled, ducking her head slightly at the compliment. As she leaned forward to adjust the doll in Lily's arms, I found my gaze drawn to the curve of her neck, the soft wisps of hair that had escaped her ponytail, the way her blouse gaped slightly as she bent.

Heat crawled up my neck as I realized I was staring. I quickly averted my eyes, but not before catching a glimpse of the fullness of her breasts, straining against the fabric of her top.

A toy car had rolled under the nearby chair, and Nora moved to retrieve it. As she bent over, the fabric of her jeans pulled tight across her hips, outlining curves that sent an inappropriate surge of desire through me.

I stood abruptly. "I just remembered a call I need to make," I said, my voice sounding strained even to my own ears. "Excuse me."

Nora looked up, confusion evident in her expression, but nodded politely. "Of course."

As I strode back to my office, I cursed myself for my lack of control. What was happening to me? I'd never been the type of man who objectified women, especially not someone in Nora's position. Yet I couldn't deny the growing attraction—an attraction that went beyond mere physical appreciation.

It wasn't just her body that drew me; it was the gentle way she spoke to Lily, the quiet competence with which she managed household tasks, the resilience that allowed her to care for my child while still nursing her own.

I closed my office door behind me, leaning against it as I tried to regain my composure. This had to stop. For Lily's sake, for Nora's professionalism, for my own sanity.

But as I sat at my desk, attempting to focus on work, my mind kept returning to the sound of her laughter, to the warmth in her eyes when she looked at my daughter—and to the unsettling question of what it might be like if she ever looked at me that way.