Too Late, Guardian: I Choose Him Now

ted Alaina Spencer's face

. It had been warm when she carried it out of the pharmacy, a small source

had become her guardian after her mother remarried, her non-blood relative and the person she had secretly loved for ten years-swung

d the backup code the housekeeper had given her years ago, a nu

she remembered the housekeeper's worried phone call-Derrick was burning up with a fever, refusing to

ker of warmth in his usually guarded gray eyes

epped

, but something was wrong. A scent. A sweet, cloying perfume she didn't recognize, a mix of gardenia and vanilla. It

, her sneakers silent on the marble floor. The dread was so real, a cold

rom the shadows at the t

at her waist, revealing a long expanse of pale leg and the curve of her collarbone. She moved with

ley Vance. A model whose face adorned

in the foyer. Surprise quickly melted into something else-a cool, calculating amusement and disdain. Her

rick's ward. The one

eyed arrogance. She glanced at the

ling much better now," Ashley continued, descending another step and let

medicine bag suddenly felt scorching, branding her own foolishness into h

her own futile, frantic heartbeat and the

down from the top of the stair

rr

to his forehead, his handsome face etched with exhaustion. When he saw Alaina standing by the door, a complex mix

slightly hoarse from illness, and beneath the s

gh his and resting her head on his shoulder. It was a pure

e allowed the intimacy, his sil

ed over. She forced herself to stand straight, to lift her chin. She walked to the

erily calm, devoid of emotion. "I heard yo

in his eyes deepened. He seemed about to say something, but

nse silence. "That's so sweet of you, but it's not necessary anymor

tight. He hesitated for no more than a second before turn

Derrick moved closer. He still carried the scent of his recent shower, his familiar soap, but it wa

nto the one she knew best-a guardian's cool, appraising gaze.

so paternal in its tone,

es burning with a question she would never dare t

oice barely a whisper.

omfort. He looked away, toward the rain-streaked w

fl

dreamed of for years, what had seemed to her the most sacred, unatt

throat. She swallowed it back. All those years

ered across his face, a brief inner struggle. But it passed quickly, replaced by the mas

reath, forcing back the bur

pered. "You shoul

, pulled open the heavy door, and steppe

e storm. The muscle in his jaw was tight, his hands clenched into fists inside the