Sweet Temptation by Cora Reilly

I sighed. “That expression means I need to change her diaper. Do you want
to stay down here?”
Christian shook his head. “I can handle it. I’ve seen worse.”
I picked up Simona and we headed upstairs into her nursery. On the way, I
noticed that the door to Gaia’s old room was ajar. I put Simona down on the
changing table. I’d check on Daniele afterward.
Christian’s face twisted in disgust when I opened the diaper. He’d definitely
never changed his child’s diaper.
“I thought you could handle it?” I teased, even if my own nose twitched at
the stench, especially when Simona had any kind of meat before—like today.
“That doesn’t mean I enjoy it.”
“I don’t enjoy it either, but someone has to do it,” I said, then tickled
Simona’s belly, causing her to grin. “Right?”
“Dad should have never forced you into this position. You are too young to
take care of two little kids, who aren’t even your own.”
It was starting to annoy me that everyone kept saying that. Mom, now
Christian, and even Cassio kept calling them his kids. We hadn’t been married
long, but I wished he’d see how much I already cared about them. “I can handle
it, Christian,” I snapped. “It’s not easy, but I’m stubborn.”
“True.”
I threw him an indignant look but couldn’t really stay mad at him seeing the
grin that had accompanied my childhood. Once I was done with Simona, I put
her into her crib. I could tell that she was tired. She had refused to go down for
her nap at noon. She cried when I stepped back, so I bent over her and rocked the
crib until her eyes drooped once more. But the moment I tried to go away, she
started wailing again. This time I didn’t go to her, hoping she’d settle down.
Some people said you needed to let the kids soothe themselves and let them cry,
but I found that impossibly hard to do.
“She’s really demanding,” Christian commented, leaning in the doorway
with crossed arms.
I picked Simona up, trying to figure out what was wrong. She kept wailing
then without warning she spit up on me and herself.
“Eww,” Christian said.
With a sigh, I changed her clothes before I put her into the crib again. This
time she quieted after a couple of minutes. I motioned for Christian to be silent
as we walked out and closed the door. He eyed the vomit on my shirt and in my
hair. “Aren’t you going to change?”
I snorted. “No. I like smelling like a bar on Sunday morning.”
“As if you know how a bar smells.”
I didn’t. I’d never been allowed in one, and not necessarily because of my
age. Cassio probably wouldn’t let me set foot in one once I turned twenty-one
either. I walked into the bedroom, trying not to pay too close attention to my
ruined shirt. The stench was bad enough. Christian looked around curiously.
Would Cassio be angry that I brought someone else into his private quarters? He