Look, uh, Dev—”
“Stay put,” he said, before she could finish. “I’ll have something there in fifteen minutes.”
“You don’t need to do that. What I wanted to ask you is—”
But he’d hung up.
Fifteen minutes for breakfast? Was there a fast-food place nearby? A shop with coffee cake? Whatever, she didn’t care, as long as he had the answers she needed and would be kind enough to help her. She was certain he hadn’t saved her only to refuse to help her now. Even with the eye patch he wore, he looked reasonable.
Too antsy to be still, she decided to explore, hoping to discover where she was. That’s all she needed to know, and if only he hadn’t ended the call in such a rush, she would have asked. Once she had her bearings, maybe she could start making plans.
She opened a pair of double doors near the dresser and discovered a walk-in closet filled with shirts and suits, all neatly hung in double rows. The other set of doors led into an impressive living room. A corner fireplace dominated the room, along with an enormous window that spanned one wall. Walking behind a huge white leather sofa facing an entertainment center crowded with electronic equipment, she went to the window and stared out at the same view she’d had from the bedroom. She was several floors up and could see far into the distance, but it didn’t reveal her location. All she could tell was that there was a city out there, with a slow-moving river running through it. She could be almost anywhere.
Wishing he would hurry so she could find out where she was, she took a seat on one of the matching white leather chairs that flanked the sofa. Knowing there was one thing she needed to do, she dialed the long-familiar number, hoping her host wouldn’t mind a small long-distance charge.
“Mama?” she said, when her mother answered after two rings.
“Carly! Oh, honey, where are you? Are you all right? I’m absolutely appalled at what that James did to you. That awful man. Don’t you worry, honey. He’ll never be able to show his face again to anyone of any significance in Baton Rouge.”
Carly waited until her mother took a breath, amazed at the difference between the anguished cry at the church and the comforting yet indignant concern her mother now conveyed. She smiled, knowing full well that her mother had sobbed to her closest friends, who had insisted that Carly had done the right thing, in light of what had happened. And what an enlightenment!
“I’m fine, Mama,” Carly answered, when given the chance. “I just need some…I need some time away, that’s all.”
“Oh,” her mother said, sounding a bit disappointed. “But I can understand. I don’t know how you managed to do it, thinking I would be so very disappointed and knowing people would talk. And they have, Carly, I have to tell you. But they’re talking about how utterly awful James was to do what he did to such a sweet girl like you.”
But Carly knew that all the blame couldn’t be laid at James’s door. She had been the one taken in, the one who had judged him completely wrong. And if she had done that, there was no telling just how bad her judgment was. “I don’t know when I’ll be home, Mama,” she said truthfully.
“Well,” her mother said, dragging the word out, “I hope it’s soon. We have to make new plans, now that you’ll be living at home again.”
Certain her mother had ditched the plan they’d made together, Carly hurried to answer. “You go right ahead and sell the house, Mama, and move into that new apartment. You’ll like it so very much more than rambling in that big old house.” And with the money from the sale, she knew her mother could pay off the debts and start fresh. They’d planned it down to the smallest detail.
“Don’t worry about me,” Carly said, fighting the tears that threatened. “I’m a big girl and can take care of myself.”
But could she really? She had always been at home, and while many of her friends had married and settled down, she had taken over the responsibilities of running their large estate—an estate that had become a huge money pit.
“But, Carly—”
“No buts, Mama. It’s time I strike out on my own. But I’ll be in touch. I promise. Call Cousin Edward about the sale. And do it today, Mama, please.”
“I just don’t know…”
“You’ll love that new apartment,” she said, her heart aching. “I love you, Mama, and I’ll talk to you again soon.”
After her mother professed her own love, Carly hung up. She had spoken with her mother’s cousin Edward at length about selling the house. He knew exactly what needed to be done, and he would watch over her mother until Carly returned. If she returned. But she couldn’t now. Not yet. That was something she wasn’t ready to face for a long time.
Dev didn’t have any idea what Carly might like to eat, so he’d had the chef load up a cart with just about everything. His own breakfast had been hours ago, as was his habit. He didn’t need to eat, and he slept only when exhaustion forced him to.
Unlocking the door to his private quarters, he pushed the cart into the room ahead of him. He immediately saw Carly perched on a chair, a frown marring her pretty features.
“Glad to see you made it through the night.” He stopped next to the low table in front of her. “I hope you weren’t too uncomfortable.”
She gave him a small, shy smile. “I wouldn’t know. Apparently, I slept through everything. I hope I wasn’t a bother. If you’ll just tell me—”
“Here,” he said, passing her a plate to fill. “Dig in. I hope there’s something you like.”
Her eyes widened when he removed the shiny domed lids of several individual plates piled high with a variety of different foods. “I’m not a big breakfast eater,” she began, her gaze on the offerings, “but this looks too good to pass up. Where did you get it? Is this a hotel?”
“Of sorts,” he answered, handing her a cloth napkin.
She looked up to stare at him, surprise and a touch of fear evident in her eyes. He smiled and added two more fresh strawberries to her plate, then sat on the corner of the sofa near her. He wasn’t quite ready to reveal her whereabouts. Until he could discover how much she knew about J.R., he’d keep the information to himself. When he was certain she wasn’t involved in his stepbrother’s nefarious activities, he’d answer her questions. The less personal ones, at least.
“Relax and enjoy your breakfast,” he told her, crossing one foot over the other knee and leaning back to watch.
“Aren’t you going to eat, too?”
“A little late in the day for breakfast for most people, don’t you think?”
She placed her plate on the table in front of her, sighing, and looked up at him. “There you go again. A question for a question. I’m beginning to think you don’t want to tell me anything. Am I right?”
“I’ll answer your questions and maybe show you around when you’re finished. How’s that?”
Shrugging, she picked up her plate again and took a bite of fresh cantaloupe. While she was busy with her food, he studied her. As inquisitive as
