defensive but was powerless to prevent it. She hated it when other people presumed to know what was best for her son. Putting her drink aside, she hung onto her soaring temper with effort and met his gaze. “Chase, I know you mean well,” she said tightly, warning him to back off, “but I don’t need your advice on this.” Nor do I want it, she thought.
Chase sighed. Knees spread apart, he leaned forward earnestly and clasped both his hands between his thighs. “In this instance, Hope, I think that you do need my advice.” He saw the flare of temper in her eyes and felt his own interest stir at the unchecked display of passion. Before she could even begin to cut him off, he interjected autocratically, “He is my half brother.”
Now, Hope though, that was rich. Restless and angry at this unexpected intervention, she got up to pace the room. Unable to prevent herself from saying what was on her mind, she pointed out quietly, “With the exception of the last two days, no one would ever have known.”
Dammit, she didn’t need Chase stepping into her life, into her home and workplace, making her continually uncomfortable and aware of herself. She didn’t need him awakening feelings and needs in her she’d forgotten she had. She liked her life simple. She liked being just a mother and a businesswoman. She didn’t want to yearn to be someone’s woman, too. “You’ve never acted like his brother.”
Chase whitened at her comment, but knowing it was the truth, said nothing to combat her remark.
But now that the subject had come up, she found she couldn’t let it go. There had just been too many years of silence on the subject and too much repression of feeling on both their parts. As a consequence, Joey had gotten caught in the crossfire of their withheld resentments. Chase’s disinterest in her son hadn’t mattered so much before. It had even seemed excusable because Chase was never around to get to know Joey, but now he did know his half brother. If Chase went back to ignoring Joey again, Joey would be terribly hurt. She couldn’t let that happen.
Aware he was watching her steadily and unable to bear his relentless scrutiny, she moved to the window. She stared out at the shady tree-lined driveway that led to the street. Not bothering to mask her hurt or resentment, she continued with her blunt assessment of his actions. “In all these years, you never sent him so much as a birthday card or a letter, Chase. Except for when Carmelita brought you over to help tonight, one dinner conversation is the most you’ve ever given Joey in his entire life. And you only did that last night because you were trying to figure out how to talk to me about the store. If you hadn’t needed to do that, you never would have joined us for a meal.” He never would have known what a delightful child Joey was, she thought. “You never would have come back to Houston at all.”
Hope noted with satisfaction that he didn’t try to deny anything she had said. “I admit I haven’t been the best sibling,” Chase began, visibly embarrassed. Restless now, too, he got up to pace the room.
“You haven’t been anything to him,” she corrected quietly, with no malice. That was the way they had all figured was best, while Edmond was alive, anyway. “That’s why I resent your advice now,” she continued calmly.
Chase knew she had a point. Nevertheless, cossetting was not what his father would have wanted for his second child. As difficult as it was, Chase had to do what his father would have expected him to do and make Hope see she was in the wrong here. She was as wrong as he had been in previously denying any and all ties to Joey and Hope. Like it or not, they were family, just like his mother was family. Maybe in the past this hadn’t felt like home to him. With his mother gone and Hope living here, he hadn’t had much desire to come home. And if he were honest with himself, he still didn’t. Given his choice, he would be back in the rain forest right now, instead of leaving everything to his partner to finish up. But he was here. He was involved. And they both had to deal with that fact as best they could.
Moving to stand beside her, he spoke urgently, “I’m trying to right that now—”
Hope shook her head, a defiant light in her dark blue eyes. “It’s too late. I know how you feel about me and about him, Chase.” Her voice choked and she shook her head in helpless misery. “How you’ve felt all along—” Her jaw set as her eyes filled with tears. “Why don’t you just go ahead and say it, Chase? You think I married your father for his money.”
Chase could take a lot of things, but not her playing the victim—not now. “Are you telling me that you didn’t?” Chase asked in cool disbelief, his temper rising. “That all this—” he gestured at the Louis XV chairs and the Aubusson rug “—played no part in it?”
Hope wanted to say that was so, but she knew in her heart it wasn’t true. Edmond’s power and wealth and this River Oaks fortress he had built had been a big part of the attraction when they had first met. She had needed to be taken in and protected at that point in her life. Because of the situation she had been running from, only someone like Edmond had possessed what it had taken to make her feel secure.
Realizing Chase was still waiting for an answer and that she couldn’t explain any of her actions without revealing the ugliness and pain in her past, she revealed only the part of the truth she felt she could tell him. “I loved your father, Chase. I loved him with all my heart and soul.”
Remembering the way she had broken down at Edmond’s funeral, Chase didn’t doubt that. Neither could he forget how they’d come together in the first place. “He was old enough to be your father, Hope.”
Hope’s slender shoulders stiffened defensively. “He was also gentle and good.”
Frowning, Chase studied her. “Gentle and good” were only a small part of what Hope needed in a man, whether she realized it or not. There was a hell of a lot more to a fulfilling relationship between a man and a woman than mutual kindness. They needed to be able to turn to one another physically as well and know they’d get a lot more than a lukewarm roll in the hay. “You’re telling me there was this great passion between you, that the two of you just couldn’t stay out of each other’s arms?” He didn’t know why, he just didn’t buy it. Not with any rich old man and pretty young chick in general and certainly not with Hope and his father. They just hadn’t given off those vibes.
Hope turned away, looking angry and upset and uncomfortable. “That,” she said flatly, offended by his presumption, “is none of your business, Chase.”
Chase supposed she was right about that, too. Nonetheless, her evasion made him all the more certain. Even though Hope clearly had loved his father and had made Edmond very happy, she hadn’t loved him in the beginning. Not the way a new bride was supposed to love her husband. And that he couldn’t condone. Marriage should be more than a business deal or convenient arrangement. Especially for nineteen-year-old girls, even pregnant ones.
Hope ran a hand through her hair, looking even more distressed. She took a drink of her cola. Her back to him, she took a lengthy swallow. “We shouldn’t be talking about this, Chase,” she continued in a voice that was thick with suppressed emotion. “You obviously resent me and—”
“Can you blame me?” Chase countered incredulously. She was acting like it was all his fault, and it wasn’t. “You broke up my parents’ marriage, Hope.” And not because she hadn’t been able to keep her hands off his father, either, but because she had clearly wanted all this and to inherit the store someday.
“You’re wrong about that. I never—and I repeat never—came between them!”
His own temper flaring dangerously, he stalked closer. If he got nothing else out of this, he wanted the truth. “Then tell me how it happened,” he continued gruffly. “How you started working
