folded her arms. ‘She’s obviously pushed your buttons.’
‘Nah, not really.’ He shrugged. ‘She wanted to know if I had the time and the inclination to do some work on Whittaker House.’
‘Oh, Lord, you’re going to make the Princess your next project?’
He stretched out a leg. ‘I haven’t decided yet.’ He took a long drink. The cold liquid helped ease the burning in his throat. ‘Mind you, the place is going to rack and ruin.’
‘It’s a shame. It’s such a nice old place. Gossip has it that she only moved back in this week so she’s not wasting any time getting things shipshape again.’ Tash sent him one of her looks. ‘Rumour has it that she’s far from cash-happy at the moment.’
‘I kinda got that impression. What else does rumour say?’
Tash managed a local pub—The Royal Oak. Lots of workers from the glass factory drank there. What Tash didn’t know about local happenings wasn’t worth knowing.
‘Well, apparently there’s no love lost between Nell and her father.’
She could say that again.
‘Old Mrs Smythe-Whittaker left the house to Nell and I’m not sure how these things work, but it was left in trust for her father to manage until Nell turned twenty-five.’ Tash’s lips twisted. ‘Nell turned twenty-five earlier in the week. She moved in and...’
‘Her father moved out?’
‘Bingo.’
Before he could ask any more, Mitch came striding into the room. ‘Hey, gorgeous.’
‘Hey, doll,’ Rick murmured back, but neither Tash nor Mitch paid him the slightest attention.
Tash flew out of her chair to launch herself at the big blond detective. ‘Catch any bad guys today?’
Mitch thrust out his chest and pounded on it with one hand. ‘Loads.’
For a moment it made Rick grin. Mitch the shrewd detective and Tash the take-no-prisoners barmaid in love and flirting. A miracle of miracles.
He rose and set off back down the hallway for the front door. ‘I’m eating out tonight,’ he tossed over his shoulder.
He needed time to think.
He pushed out of the front door, his hand clenching into a fist. This whole thing could be an elaborate hoax, a nasty trick.
Or you could have a brother or a sister.
Could he really walk away from this?
He lengthened his stride but the thoughts and confusion continued to bombard him. Damn it all to hell! Why did this have to involve the Princess? She’d been trouble fifteen years ago and hard-won wisdom warned him she’d be trouble now.
There was something about her that set his teeth on edge too.
Somewhere inside him a maniacal laugh started up.
* * *
The next afternoon, Nell swiped a forearm across her brow and stared at the mountain of dishes that needed washing.
Staring at them won’t get them done. If she were going to take a half-day on Mondays then she needed to use that time productively. She started to move towards them when a knock sounded on the back door.
She spun around and then swallowed. Rick. In worn jeans and another tight black T-shirt. And with that bad-boy insolence wrapped tightly around him. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or something altogether different—like apprehensive.
She wiped her hands down her shorts. Instinct warned her that the less time she spent in Rick’s company the better. Better for her peace of mind and better for her health if the stupid way her heart leapt and surged was anything to go by. She tried to swallow back her misgivings. Her family had done this man no favours. She owed him for that.
With a sigh she waved him inside, kissing goodbye to the notion of a clean kitchen followed by a soak in a hot tub with a good book. ‘Good afternoon.’
He just nodded as he took the same seat at the table as he had the previous day.
‘Can I get you anything?’
‘No, thanks.’
Neither of them spoke and the silence grew heavy. Nell moistened her lips. ‘I...’ She couldn’t think of anything to say.
Rick’s gaze speared to hers. ‘Shall I tell you what occurred to me overnight?’
Her mouth dried though she couldn’t have explained why. She gave a please continue shrug.
‘I wondered if there was the slightest possibility that by staying here it meant John Cox had the chance to remain close to his other child?’
It took a moment for that inference to sink in. In a twisted way, she could see how he could make that leap. Without a word she went to her important documents drawer and pulled out a folder. She opened her mouth to try and explain its contents only to snap it shut. She shoved the folder at Rick instead. The contents could speak for themselves.
He stared at her for a moment and then riffled through the enclosed sheaf of papers. A frown lowered over his face even as his chin lifted. For a moment he looked like a devil. One who’d cajole with dark temptations that could only end in destruction and ruin. Her heart kicked in her chest.
She swallowed and looked away.
‘This is a paternity test your father had done...twelve years ago.’
‘That’s correct. He arranged for that test when he and my mother divorced. As he said at the time, he had no intention of being financially responsible for a child that wasn’t his.’ Only the tests had shown beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was his daughter.
And that he was her father.
Rick slammed the folder shut. ‘God, Nell, that man’s a nightmare of a father!’
She turned back and raised an eyebrow. ‘Snap.’
He rocked back and then a grin crept across those fascinating lips of his and a light twinkled in those dark eyes and some of the awkwardness between them seeped away. ‘Okay, you got me there. I’ll pay that.’
And then he laughed, and the laugh completely transformed him. It tempered the hard, insolent edges and made him look young and carefree. It made him breathtakingly attractive too, in a dangerous, thrilling way that had her blood surging and her pulse pounding.
She swallowed. ‘On that head, though...’ She nodded at the folder. ‘I can’t say I blame him. My mother isn’t the kind of woman who has ever let the truth get in the way of a...good opportunity.’
Her mother was in the Mediterranean with husband number four the last she’d heard, which was about three times a year. Oh, yes, her family—they were the Brady Bunch all right.
Rick
