ignoring her insulting words.
"I'll never come to you," she flared. "I never want to hear your name again."
Because she knew it would always remind her of the way she had opened herself to humiliation. She had lowered herself—cheapened her father's name—with her foolish tactics. She could never forgive Jett, because she couldn't forgive herself.
With hot tears filling her eyes she hurried toward the door. Jett called her name, but she didn't pause. Afraid he would pursue her, she rushed down the hallway to her suite, breathing in sobs. Tears were streaming down her cheeks when she slipped, inside the room and closed the door.
"Glenna? Glenna, is that you?" Her father's voice called to her from the open door to the adjoining suite.
Quickly she swallowed the sobs in her throat and wiped hurriedly at hot moisture on her cheeks. "Yes." There was a thready sound to her voice. Footsteps approached the doorway. She sniffed back some tears and tried to sound calm. "Did you want me, dad?"
"Where have you been?" The forlorn question was echoed by his expression when he appeared in the opening. "I called several times but you weren't here."
Glenna was careful not to face him directly as she turned down the covers of her bed and took her time plumping the pillows. "I'm sorry. Did you need something?" Although she tried hard to conceal it, there was a definite waver in her voice.
"Where were you?" His attention sharpened at the way she avoided his question.
Hesitating, she realized she couldn't hide the truth from him. "I went to talk to Jett," she admitted thinly. "I thought I might persuade him to change Iris mind."
There was an awkward silence. "In your nightclothes?"
The accusal struck a raw nerve and lifted her hurt gaze to his paling face. The tiredness and defeat became mixed with dismay.
"Yes," Glenna whispered as she began to shake with the sobs she could no longer hold back. "I'm sorry, dad, but I just couldn't stand by while you lost everything." It seemed to take him a long time to cross the room to where she stood. Intense sadness gleamed in his eyes. Quietly he studied her wretched expression.
"What happened, baby?" he asked with grim concern.
"Nothing," She shook her head in a mute kind of pain and shuddered when his arms went around her to comfort her. "He insists that he isn't in a position to help you."
"Then he didn't—" Her father paused, not needing to finish the sentence.
"No." It was a rasped answer as Glenna began to cry softly. "I wanted to make things right for you. Instead I've hurt you more, haven't I?"
He gathered her into his arms and hugged her close. "This is all my fault," he murmured.
"No. You aren't to blame." She refused to let him take that burden as she rested a wet cheek against his flannel robe. "It was all my idea. I was so desperate that I didn't stop to think how embarrassing it might be to you. On top of losing everything you have worked all your life to build, now I've let you down."
"I'm afraid I let you down," he sighed heavily. "I had given up because I thought I had lost everything in life that mattered. But I still have you, Glenna. I should have remembered that."
She closed her eyes. "Can we leave first thing in the morning? I can't face Jett again."
"You were beginning to like him, weren't you?" He drew his head back to look at her.
"I could have, if he had been different." But that wasn't exactly the truth. "If circumstances had been different," she corrected.
He patted her gently. "You climb into bed. Maybe tomorrow morning things won't look as bleak as they do now." With an arm around her shoulder, he urged her toward the bed.
"Are you all right?" Self-consciously she wiped at the tears on her cheeks and lifted her head to study him.
"I will be," he promised, but he looked exceptionally tired when he smiled to reassure her.
After she was in bed he tucked the covers around her and bent stiffly to brush a kiss on her forehead. Before he left the room he
"I'll never come to you," she flared. "I never want to hear your name again."
Because she knew it would always remind her of the way she had opened herself to humiliation. She had lowered herself—cheapened her father's name—with her foolish tactics. She could never forgive Jett, because she couldn't forgive herself.
With hot tears filling her eyes she hurried toward the door. Jett called her name, but she didn't pause. Afraid he would pursue her, she rushed down the hallway to her suite, breathing in sobs. Tears were streaming down her cheeks when she slipped, inside the room and closed the door.
"Glenna? Glenna, is that you?" Her father's voice called to her from the open door to the adjoining suite.
Quickly she swallowed the sobs in her throat and wiped hurriedly at hot moisture on her cheeks. "Yes." There was a thready sound to her voice. Footsteps approached the doorway. She sniffed back some tears and tried to sound calm. "Did you want me, dad?"
"Where have you been?" The forlorn question was echoed by his expression when he appeared in the opening. "I called several times but you weren't here."
Glenna was careful not to face him directly as she turned down the covers of her bed and took her time plumping the pillows. "I'm sorry. Did you need something?" Although she tried hard to conceal it, there was a definite waver in her voice.
"Where were you?" His attention sharpened at the way she avoided his question.
Hesitating, she realized she couldn't hide the truth from him. "I went to talk to Jett," she admitted thinly. "I thought I might persuade him to change Iris mind."
There was an awkward silence. "In your nightclothes?"
The accusal struck a raw nerve and lifted her hurt gaze to his paling face. The tiredness and defeat became mixed with dismay.
"Yes," Glenna whispered as she began to shake with the sobs she could no longer hold back. "I'm sorry, dad, but I just couldn't stand by while you lost everything." It seemed to take him a long time to cross the room to where she stood. Intense sadness gleamed in his eyes. Quietly he studied her wretched expression.
"What happened, baby?" he asked with grim concern.
"Nothing," She shook her head in a mute kind of pain and shuddered when his arms went around her to comfort her. "He insists that he isn't in a position to help you."
"Then he didn't—" Her father paused, not needing to finish the sentence.
"No." It was a rasped answer as Glenna began to cry softly. "I wanted to make things right for you. Instead I've hurt you more, haven't I?"
He gathered her into his arms and hugged her close. "This is all my fault," he murmured.
"No. You aren't to blame." She refused to let him take that burden as she rested a wet cheek against his flannel robe. "It was all my idea. I was so desperate that I didn't stop to think how embarrassing it might be to you. On top of losing everything you have worked all your life to build, now I've let you down."
"I'm afraid I let you down," he sighed heavily. "I had given up because I thought I had lost everything in life that mattered. But I still have you, Glenna. I should have remembered that."
She closed her eyes. "Can we leave first thing in the morning? I can't face Jett again."
"You were beginning to like him, weren't you?" He drew his head back to look at her.
"I could have, if he had been different." But that wasn't exactly the truth. "If circumstances had been different," she corrected.
He patted her gently. "You climb into bed. Maybe tomorrow morning things won't look as bleak as they do now." With an arm around her shoulder, he urged her toward the bed.
"Are you all right?" Self-consciously she wiped at the tears on her cheeks and lifted her head to study him.
"I will be," he promised, but he looked exceptionally tired when he smiled to reassure her.
After she was in bed he tucked the covers around her and bent stiffly to brush a kiss on her forehead. Before he left the room he
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