**Playing with Fire**
Bloody hell, Thomas threw his head back, choking on laughter. You actually said it to her face? In front of everyone?
What else was I supposed to do? James drummed his fingers nervously against the desk. Im married. And she wouldnt back offgot bolder every day. The whole departments noticed.
Christ, mate, youre too soft, his friend teased. Most blokes wouldve taken the chance. But not Saint James.
Weve got different ideas of loyalty, James shot back mildly, though exhaustion flickered in his eyes. At first, it was just hintsI pretended not to notice. Didnt want to be rude, make a scene.
And thats exactly where you went wrong, Thomas said, raising a knowing brow. Your silence gave her hope.
What does she even want from me? Plenty of single men around!
For women like her, a wedding rings not a barrierits a challenge, Thomas remarked dryly. Proof youre worth having.
Emily stormed into their office like a sudden spring gale. She wasnt classically beautifulsharp features, a low, husky voice. But when she smiled, the world seemed to shift. HR later admitted theyd been ready to reject heruntil that smile changed their minds.
At first, James genuinely liked her. Her energy and quick wit were a breath of fresh air in the dull office routine. He helped her settle in, shared advice. To him, it was simple kindnessno hidden meaning. A devoted family man, he saw her as a bright colleague, almost a younger sister.
Then the boundaries blurred. Emilys jokes turned suggestive, her touches lingering. James, an introvert unaccustomed to such boldness, floundered. His moral compass, usually unshakable, spun wildly. He avoided her, skipped shared lunches. But retreat only emboldened her.
***
James was in his mid-thirties, the kind of man who maintained order in his life with careful effort. Tall but slightly stooped, as if trying to shrink. Dark hair, neatly trimmed, silver already threading at the templesheredity and stress combined. Calm eyes, but beneath them, a constant wearinessnot from work, but from silent tension. He wore thin-framed glasses, which he removed to rub the bridge of his nose when anxious. His clothes were unremarkableplain shirts, tailored trousers. No flash, no fuss.
He hated crowds. Flirting, office politicsall of it felt like a foreign, exhausting language. His world was quiet, ordered, focused. Conflict terrified him; hed sooner swallow his words than argue.
Yet inside him stood an unshakable fortresshis family. Claire and the kids werent just part of his life; they *were* his life. His loyalty wasnt virtueit was as natural as breathing.
Emily wanted him from day one. He was the only man immune to her charms. Seducing him wasnt just about attentionit was proof she was desirable. Conquering a married man became her obsession. If a good man fell for her, shed finally believe she was worth something. And experience told her no perfect family was truly perfect.
Two weeks in, Emily gushed to her friend about James. Beth listened, unease growing.
*Another* married one? Emily, stop. Hes got two kids.
Oh, please! Hes miserabletrapped in some polished little cage. His wife, Claire… she doesnt *get* him. Just keeps his house tidy while his soul screams for freedom!
How would you know? Have you even met her?
I dont need to! I *see* him. So proper, so buttoned-up… Thats not natural. Theres pain underneath. He just wont admit it. Im going to help him.
Em, you sound like a bad romance novel. You dont want to *help* himyou want him because hes off-limits. This isnt a game; its his *life*.
You dont understand. I *feel* it. Were meant to be. His perfect family? Bet its all lies. Nothings perfect. And Ill prove it.
***
The business trip to Manchester tested James. Guess who volunteered to join? With clients, Emily was professional, and James nearly relaxeduntil a knock came at his hotel door late that night.
My radiators broken, Emily said, wrapped in a robe that barely concealed the silk beneath.
His stomach dropped. Panic, thick and sour, clawed at his throat. He pictured Claires steady, trusting eyes.
WaitIll get you a blanket, he muttered, turning away.
She pouted but took it.
Youve locked yourself in a cage and thrown away the key, she said, leaving. Pity. Theres a different man underneathI know it.
James leaned his forehead against the closed door, pulse hammering. Relief mixed with pityfor her, for himself, for this absurd mess.
Back at work, Emily seemed to forget him. James began to breathe againuntil she asked for a lift home. He refused.
Do I disgust you?
Youre brilliant, he said carefully. But I love my wife. I have a family
So thats the *only* reason? Her eyes glittered dangerously.
No He faltered, but she was already gone. He regretted his hesitation instantly.
That night, a sharp shove woke him. Claires furious whisper cut through the dark.
James, have you lost your mind? What kind of woman sends *those* photos at midnight?
He sat up, heart thrashing. On his phone: Emily, posed in lace, smirking.
Claire, its not what you think! Voice cracking, he confessed everything.
She was silent a long moment. Then a heavy sigh.
My naïve idiot. Anger and fondness twisted together. Fine. I believe you. But tell herif this happens again, Ill storm that office and give everyone a show theyll never forget.
James nodded in the dark. Next day, he called Emily into a meeting room. She strode in, triumphant.
Youve crossed every line, he said, steadying his voice.
Oh, relax. She reached for his cheek. She doesnt deserve you.
He recoiled. Her hand hung mid-air.
What are you implying?
That your perfect life is a lie. Her voice dripped honey and poison. From the outsidelovely wife, princess daughter, heir son…
We *are* happy.
Wake *up*, James! She slammed her hands on the table. Your son looks *nothing* like you! Your daughters your twin, but Ben? Not a trace!
Ice flooded his veins. He stared at her triumphant face, the last of his sympathy crumbling.
And I can prove it. She tossed a printout on the table. Look. Paternity probability: 0%. Handy having connections, hm? Believe me now?
James met her gaze. The anger hed buried for months finally broke freecold, clear.
I tolerated your advances. But my children? *Never.* Ben isnt mine by blood. Thats between me and Claire. But since youre so keen on digginghis parents, Claires sister and her husband, died. Hes *ours* now. Happy? Satisfied?
II didnt know, she whispered, all confidence gone.
Nor do I know how you got this testif its even real. Before, I thought you were lonely. Now I see youre dangerous. Resign. If your notice isnt on the directors desk by tonight, I go to the police. And if you *ever* come near my children His quiet voice turned deadly. you wont need them.
Emily quit that day. James came home early, finding six-year-old Ben piecing together a puzzle while eight-year-old Grace did homework. He hugged them both too long, breathing in their familiar scent.
That night, once the kids were asleep, he faced Claire.
We have to tell him, he said softly. Ben should hear it from usnot a stranger. Sooner the better.
Claires eyes brimmednot with grief, but relief.
Im scared, she admitted.
Me too. But well do it together.
A week later, they held a small family celebration. After cake, James knelt before Ben.
Weve something important to tell you. About how much we love you. He took a breath. Remember how we said family comes in all shapes? Well, Ben… Im not your birth dad. Your first mum and dad were Claires sister and her husbandthey were wonderful, but theyre gone now. Claire and I? Were your parents by the most important choicethe hearts choice.
Ben paused, considering, then hugged them and asked for more cake. The heavy cloud lifted, leaving only crumbs on the table and quiet talkno room for Emily or her twisted fantasies. Everything was as it should be.
