prostitute.
“I’m a fully trained massage therapist. There is a difference, you know. I’m respected and I’m good at my job.”
“A job that takes you away from Sienna, right? A job that makes you leave her in the care of someone phenomenally unfit. And tell me, Kayla, does this job of yours pay so well that you can afford to stop work and care for three children under the age of two? Or were you planning to go to the local homeless shelter and find more day-care options there?”
“I’ll manage—with your help, of course.”
“With my help,” he repeated grimly. “You’re a piece of work, you know that? How much money do you have left in the bank?”
“That’s none of your business.”
She’d saved a few hundred dollars since Zoe had cleaned her out. Not much, but it was a start.
“I’m guessing that even if you’re saving, it’s nowhere near enough for you to even make the rent here when you have to stop working after the babies are born, is it?”
“I’ll manage. I always have before and I will again. I’ll sell Sienna’s jewelry if I have to.”
Kayla lifted a hand to finger the gold chain at her throat. Van’s eyes tracked the movement and she felt the burn of his gaze as if it was a physical touch searing her skin.
“And you think that’ll help? And what about when that’s all gone—have you thought about that? Be honest with yourself, Kayla. No court is going to declare you a fit parent—especially not in comparison to me. I’m a decorated veteran, a stable and successful businessman, I’m engaged to be married and I have a debt-free home.”
He was engaged?
For some reason that one piece of information sent a wave of desolation through her—as though she’d lost something very important without even realizing it. It was stupid, she told herself. It wasn’t as if she and Van had ever been close growing up, and that one-night stand the evening after Sienna’s funeral had been more of a release of mutual grief than attraction. But even so, she still couldn’t look at Van without remembering that night with him. That night she’d wondered if—no, hoped, she finally admitted to herself—they could move forward from that point and discover whether they could have more together.
But he’d run away, hadn’t he? Just like he’d done when he’d turned eighteen and joined the army. Just like he’d done when Sienna’s diagnosis had come through and he’d transferred to Special Forces. It seemed that when the chips were down, Van Murphy couldn’t be relied upon. So how good a father would he be?
She stood up and squared her shoulders, ignoring the dull throb emanating from her forehead, and looked him in the eye.
“You might think that all it takes is money to be a parent, Van Murphy, but prepare yourself for a monumental fight. A man like you could never be a decent father and my children—yes, mine—deserve better than a man who cuts and runs whenever the going gets tough. They deserve love and I’m betting that’s something you’re never going to be capable of giving to anyone.”
* * *
Van listened to her words, felt each one like a hot round of lead attempting to pierce the shield he’d wrapped around his emotions a long time ago. She was probably right. The children certainly did deserve more love and affection than he knew how to offer, but the alternative was emphatically not her lackadaisical approach to life, either.
He forced himself to smile. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you, Kayla? Still the dreamer, still thinking everything will all work out in the end if you just believe in it enough. But life, real life, is not like that.”
“Isn’t it? Tell me, then, the men you had working for you here tonight. You served with them?”
Where the hell was she going with this? He crossed his arms and nodded.
“And when they came home, they were broken, weren’t they. Physically and probably mentally, too.”
He grimaced. Those had been bad days.
“And you gave them something, didn’t you? You gave them a purpose, gave them back their pride. Because you believed in them, you made them see that they still had skills and worth and something to offer. And they’re happy now, aren’t they? So don’t tell me that things don’t work out in the end.”
He didn’t like the way she made him feel or the way she made him think. He turned and went to the door.
“Yes, that’s right, Van. You run away, and you keep on running!” she said forcefully at his retreating back.
From the bedroom, he heard Sienna’s cry. “My daughter needs you,” he said coldly. “Best you attend to her.”
“Yes, that’s right. I’m what’s best for her and don’t you forget it.”
He wasn’t likely to forget the fierce look on Kayla’s pale face, nor the impassioned glare in her eyes. Her expression haunted him as he pounded down the stairs and along the sidewalk toward his car. She was right about his running, he thought as he drove back to the city. But what she didn’t understand was that running meant survival. It meant staying safe both physically and emotionally. And if that was what he had to do, then that was what would happen.
He glanced at the time on the dashboard display. Almost 1:00 a.m. It wouldn’t be worth the hour-and-a-half drive south to head to his home. Even if he filed a night flight and took the chopper, he’d no sooner be asleep before he’d need to be up and flying back to San Francisco. He might as well stay in his apartment.
After putting his car in the parking garage in the basement of the building, he took his private elevator up to the apartment. The moment the doors swished open, a tingle of awareness warned him that he wasn’t alone.
A single light shone in the sitting room, bathing the woman who curled up in a corner of his sofa in a golden glow. Dani. He wondered how long she’d been waiting here. She must have sensed his arrival because she stretched like a cat and opened her eyes.
“Everything okay?” she asked, getting gracefully to her feet and walking toward him. “I called Imelda to see if you’d gone back to the house tonight but she said you weren’t home, so I assumed you’d show up here eventually. Are you happy to see me?”
She lifted her face to his and kissed him. He met her kiss perfunctorily.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” he said.
She frowned, her mouth a moue of disappointment at his lukewarm reception. “I know, but we’re here now, right? We can still make the most of what’s left of the night.”
Dani lifted her left hand and tucked her hair behind one ear. The movement caused her diamond to flash, reminding him of the decision he’d reached in the car on the way over here. She started to smile invitingly, but when she realized he still wasn’t responding in kind, her expression grew serious.
“What is it, Donovan? Is everything okay?”
He sighed. No, everything most certainly was not.
“We need to talk,” he said.
