she asked in a whisper.
Chapter Seven
Sympathy, guilt and anger suddenly warred within Kullen.
The sympathy was self-explanatory. The guilt was because he’d had to force her to relive the ordeal, and the anger was directed against the narcissistic bastard who’d assaulted Lilli. And ultimately robbed them of a life they could have had together.
“No, I’m not,” he told her. “I won’t be satisfied until I can beat Erik Dalton within an inch of his life.”
“But he’s dead.”
“Hence, my dilemma,” Kullen acknowledged with a straight face.
It took her a second to realize he was kidding. Lilli laughed softly. “You always did know how to make me smile.”
“We do what we can,” he quipped with affection.
He kept it light. What he really wanted to say was that she should have come to him with this the moment she knew she was pregnant. It pained him to think of her facing something so huge on her own. He would have been there for her every step of the way if only he’d known. If only she’d trusted him to stand by her and not judge her.
But for now he kept the question to himself. He could see that Lilli just wanted to table the subject. He had no choice but to abide by her obvious wishes.
In his mind, Kullen promised himself that they would come back to this discussion in the near future. Lilli needed to fully purge herself of this incident. She’d taken the first important steps. The rest would come.
“Do you think she can do it?” Lilli asked, trying her best to disguise the tremor in her voice. “Do you think that Mrs. Dalton will be able to take Jonathan away from me?”
He chose his words carefully, his eyes never leaving hers. “I think Elizabeth Dalton’s going to do her damnedest to try,” he told her, “but no, I don’t think she’s going to take your son away from you.”
Her hand covered his, creating the bond that she so desperately needed. “Promise?”
Logically, Kullen knew he couldn’t guarantee anything. It was no secret that judges were a whimsical breed. If he and Lilli drew the wrong judge for the case, one who was either impressed by Elizabeth Dalton or whose appointment had somehow been facilitated by her pull or covert financial backing, then they were in for a hard fight—and the daunting possibility of an initial ruling against them.
But he knew that Lilli wasn’t asking him for a logical answer, or the truth when it came down to that. She was asking him for an answer that she could hang on to with both hands. An answer that told her everything would be all right. What she needed most of all was hope.
After all she’d been through, he figured it was the least he could do. So he smiled at her and said the one word she wanted to hear. “Promise.”
The sigh that escaped her lips was one of relief and she mirrored his smile. But her expression told him she knew what he was doing and why. She appeared grateful that, for her sake, he was playing the game. There was time enough to deal with reality and all its hoary ramifications later.
“Thank you,” she told him with feeling. “And now, I’d better get back and tell my mother she’s free to go home if she wants to. Although half the time I suspect she likes sticking around Jonathan and me. Now that my dad’s gone, we’re all the family she has.”
It occurred to him that he hadn’t given her condolences where they were due. “I’m sorry to hear about your dad.”
“Yeah, me, too.” Her father had died shortly after Jonathan was born. Because she’d been in the midst of dealing with her own issues, she hadn’t known of his sudden illness until a week before he passed away. She blamed herself for that, too, and still grieved that her father never got to see his grandson.
Wanting to change the subject, Kullen nodded toward the pizza box. There was still a little less than half left.
“Why don’t you take some of this with you for Jonathan?” he suggested. He saw that she was about to demur—he could still read so much of her body language. Funny how some things never left you, he thought. “I don’t know of any seven-year-old boy alive who doesn’t like cold pizza.” With that, he went to the kitchen to get a container for her.
Lilli followed him. “Don’t you want it?”
“I’ve got more than enough,” he assured her. “Just in case you didn’t notice, you still eat like a bird on a diet.”
Kullen opened an overhead cupboard and she saw a collection of plastic containers of all sizes and shapes crowded together. She couldn’t help wondering if they would all wind up raining down if he attempted to take one out.
“New hobby of yours?” she asked, nodding toward the containers.
He laughed. “My mother thinks I’m going to starve to death. She makes it a habit of dropping off what she calls leftovers from her catering business about once every week or so. I keep meaning to give these back to her.”
Carefully extracting a rectangular container and its lid, he managed not to upset the rest of the pyramid. Apparently, Lilli mused, the man had added magic tricks to his skills since she’d last seen him. She followed him back to the dining room.
Opening the container, Kullen put two slices of pizza into it. He saw a quizzical look enter her eyes. “One for your mother, in case she’s built up an appetite running after your son.”
Her smile widened. “She doesn’t chase him around. Jonathan is extremely well behaved. Not an ounce of trouble, ever.” She was aware of the note of pride in her voice.
“Like his mother,” Kullen commented. Taking the container with him, he walked her to the door, then handed it to her just as he opened the door for her.
She turned in the doorway and looked up at him. “Thank you again,” she said with feeling. “For everything.”
He knew she meant for understanding and for not pushing the matter. What good would it have done to verbally pin her against the wall? Berating her would have made neither one of them feel any better.
Leaning over, he brushed his lips ever so lightly against her forehead. It was what a big brother might have done with a sister. Though he longed to really kiss her, he had a feeling that it would really spook her.
Just like old times, Kullen couldn’t help thinking. After all these years, this had the familiar feeling of square one. “It’s included in my fee,” he told her glibly.
The fee. She knew his services didn’t come cheaply and she was not about to impose on him because of their past friendship. He’d mentioned taking her on pro bono but that wasn’t what she wanted. She paid her own way, no matter how long it took.
“About that—”
He knew without asking that she didn’t have the kind of money this case would cost. He would have to figure something out. If push came to shove, he could cover the expenses out of his own pocket. Barring that, he could possibly do a little
