hadn’t been paying attention. For nearly six months you all but vanished after appearing regularly on all the hottest links.”
Deonne drew in a long, slow inhalation. “And what has that got to do with anything? My career is my business. You went to great lengths to make sure I understood I was to stand on my own two feet. Well, I’m standing on them just fine, no thanks to you.”
“I encouraged your independence,” he told her. “That isn’t the same thing as severing all ties to the family.”
“ What family? There’s only you and you haven’t exactly screamed about my silence until now.” She gave him a stiff smile. “Or are you really going to try to convince me that Petronella misses me?”
His third wife was younger than Deonne and a cliché in looks, self-centeredness and intelligence. Deonne couldn’t stand the vapid, childlike woman and had no idea how Petronella felt about her. She frankly didn’t care.
Christopher frowned. “Petronella is my wife. You will speak about her with the respect she is due.”
“Because she married you?” Deonne laughed. “Why are you here? Don’t lie this time, father, or I will call Kieren back and have you tossed out of the building and be damned to your dignity or that fine coat you’re wearing.”
He smoothed a hand down the coat, telling her he was proud of the garment. He was as much of a clotheshorse as she was. Of course—she was like him. She had grown up hearing how much she looked like her father and how much like him she was. When she was a teenager, she had been ready to commit murder in order to prove exactly how much she wasn’t like him.
The years since and a lot of distance had confirmed that she had inherited her father’s drives and genes. That was unavoidable. But there were certain personality traits she had worked for years to subvert and suppress, if not change altogether.
Her father looked at her now with a gentle expression. “Dee, please. I’ve come a long way. Can you drop the shield for a while?”
Deonne hesitated. That warm expression of his. She recalled that from long ago, when they had sat in his study, watching the nets and discussing her week, over hot chocolate on a Sunday morning. A throb of homesickness for days gone by swept through her.
The tumblers on the front door of the apartment turning and unlocking sounded unnaturally loud in the silence spinning between them. Deonne turned to face the door, almost surprised by the sound, which seemed to break the little spell. Worse, she saw annoyance flicker across her father’s face, which told her how close she been to letting herself be sold by his false warmth and sentimentality.
Again.
Justin strolled in like it was the middle of the day, not close to dawn. He showed no surprise to see Christopher in the main room, or Deonne up and dressed. He walked straight over to Deonne and kissed her temple. “I’m sorry I stayed out so late. Miss me?” He looked into her eyes and smiled one of his warmest smiles. Unlike her father’s, Justin’s smile was real and the warmth genuine.
Deonne scrambled to understand what Justin was doing. He had never, never openly greeted her this way in front of anyone before. Now, with her father in the room—
Kieren . Kieren had warned Justin. Justin was offering her…what? Protection? Moral support? Both, she decided.
She smiled back at him, genuinely touched, then looked at her father.
Christopher Rinaldi was scowling.
Justin nodded at him. “Under the circumstances, it would be stupid to pretend I don’t know who you are. Kieren is the very best at what he does and he wouldn’t let a stranger into this room if I wasn’t here. So I know who you are. That puts you at the disadvantage.” He stepped away from Deonne and looked at her. “I’ll leave it up to you if and how you introduce me.”
“Of course she’s going to tell me who you are,” Christopher said. “Considering the way you just greeted her, I think I
Deonne drew in a long, slow inhalation. “And what has that got to do with anything? My career is my business. You went to great lengths to make sure I understood I was to stand on my own two feet. Well, I’m standing on them just fine, no thanks to you.”
“I encouraged your independence,” he told her. “That isn’t the same thing as severing all ties to the family.”
“ What family? There’s only you and you haven’t exactly screamed about my silence until now.” She gave him a stiff smile. “Or are you really going to try to convince me that Petronella misses me?”
His third wife was younger than Deonne and a cliché in looks, self-centeredness and intelligence. Deonne couldn’t stand the vapid, childlike woman and had no idea how Petronella felt about her. She frankly didn’t care.
Christopher frowned. “Petronella is my wife. You will speak about her with the respect she is due.”
“Because she married you?” Deonne laughed. “Why are you here? Don’t lie this time, father, or I will call Kieren back and have you tossed out of the building and be damned to your dignity or that fine coat you’re wearing.”
He smoothed a hand down the coat, telling her he was proud of the garment. He was as much of a clotheshorse as she was. Of course—she was like him. She had grown up hearing how much she looked like her father and how much like him she was. When she was a teenager, she had been ready to commit murder in order to prove exactly how much she wasn’t like him.
The years since and a lot of distance had confirmed that she had inherited her father’s drives and genes. That was unavoidable. But there were certain personality traits she had worked for years to subvert and suppress, if not change altogether.
Her father looked at her now with a gentle expression. “Dee, please. I’ve come a long way. Can you drop the shield for a while?”
Deonne hesitated. That warm expression of his. She recalled that from long ago, when they had sat in his study, watching the nets and discussing her week, over hot chocolate on a Sunday morning. A throb of homesickness for days gone by swept through her.
The tumblers on the front door of the apartment turning and unlocking sounded unnaturally loud in the silence spinning between them. Deonne turned to face the door, almost surprised by the sound, which seemed to break the little spell. Worse, she saw annoyance flicker across her father’s face, which told her how close she been to letting herself be sold by his false warmth and sentimentality.
Again.
Justin strolled in like it was the middle of the day, not close to dawn. He showed no surprise to see Christopher in the main room, or Deonne up and dressed. He walked straight over to Deonne and kissed her temple. “I’m sorry I stayed out so late. Miss me?” He looked into her eyes and smiled one of his warmest smiles. Unlike her father’s, Justin’s smile was real and the warmth genuine.
Deonne scrambled to understand what Justin was doing. He had never, never openly greeted her this way in front of anyone before. Now, with her father in the room—
Kieren . Kieren had warned Justin. Justin was offering her…what? Protection? Moral support? Both, she decided.
She smiled back at him, genuinely touched, then looked at her father.
Christopher Rinaldi was scowling.
Justin nodded at him. “Under the circumstances, it would be stupid to pretend I don’t know who you are. Kieren is the very best at what he does and he wouldn’t let a stranger into this room if I wasn’t here. So I know who you are. That puts you at the disadvantage.” He stepped away from Deonne and looked at her. “I’ll leave it up to you if and how you introduce me.”
“Of course she’s going to tell me who you are,” Christopher said. “Considering the way you just greeted her, I think I
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