to sit here any longer listening to your insinuations about my honesty—’ She rose abruptly to her feet, and with a sigh, Dimitri rose too, preventing her escape by blocking her path.
‘Calm yourself, Miss Nicolas,’ he said sourly. ‘This kind of ridiculous display will get neither of us anywhere!’
Joanne was breathing swiftly, her breast rising and falling beneath the softness of a black cashmere jumper. She had loosened her coat while she drank her tea and Dimitri could see the rounded contours of her body matched the flawlessness of her complexion. In consequence, his tone was harsher than he desired.
‘Will you get out of my way, or shall I call for assistance?’ she exclaimed angrily.
Dimitri stood aside without a word and she brushed by him, marching across the room to the door. She was certainly a magnificent young animal, thought Dimitri with reluctant admiration. How proud Matt would be of her. And Marisa? He frowned. Marisa wouldn’t like it at all.
As she reached out a hand to turn the handle, Dimitri spoke: ‘Did you know that your father has only about six months left to live?’ His voice was mild but very distinct.
Joanne halted as though carved to stone, and for a moment she did not move at all. Then slowly she turned to face him, her cheeks paling slightly and a questioning disbelief in the wide violet eyes. ‘You – you can’t be serious!’ she murmured huskily.
‘Oh, but I am,’ he returned coolly, thrusting his hands into the front pockets of his trousers.
Slowly, with hesitant steps, she came back to him, staring at him curiously as though willing him to admit he was merely trying to frighten her. Finally, when his eyes did not waver, she said: ‘But why? Why? My father is a young man! He can’t be more than about forty-five!’
‘That’s right.’
‘Then – then how?’ She shook her head.
‘A year ago he had a heart attack and it was discovered he had an organic heart disease. The doctors give him until the fall!’
Joanne pressed her fingers to her lips. ‘How terrible!’ she whispered incredulously. ‘I – I never – suspected …’
‘How could you?’ queried Dimitri, rather sardonically. ‘You’re not psychic, are you?’
‘No, but – well – I’m so sorry… .’ Her voice trailed away.
Dimitri lifted his broad shoulders in an eloquent gesture. ‘So are we all,’ he commented sombrely. ‘Your stepmother – your half-sister …’
Joanne’s face suffused with colour. ‘I have a half-sister?’ she said wonderingly. ‘I didn’t know.’
Dimitri’s eyes grew sceptical again. ‘I can’t believe that,’ he muttered roughly.
Joanne looked at him again. ‘Why not? My father did not apprise us of his affairs!’ she said stiffly.
‘Did he not?’ Dimitri raised his eyes heavenward. ‘My dear Miss Nicolas, one of us has been grossly deceived!’
Joanne bit her lip. ‘I don’t understand you.’
‘Obviously not.’
‘Stop talking in innuendoes!’ she exclaimed suddenly. ‘If you have something to say to me, say it!’
Dimitri gave her a half-smile, but it was a sardonic salutation. ‘Very well,’ he said, with a sigh. ‘Your father wrote regularly to your mother. Not only that, he continued to support you both long after it was necessary to do so!’
‘That’s not true!’ She scarcely let him finish. ‘My mother would accept nothing from my father – after – after he deserted us!’
Dimitri endeavoured to control the anger that her words aroused in him. He must try to accept that she was more innocent than he would have believed possible. ‘It is true!’ he said tightly. ‘I can prove it, if you give me time!’
Joanne’s eyes mirrored her distrust of him. ‘Is there more?’ she demanded, biting her lips.
‘Much more,’ he snapped, a trifle impatiently. ‘Much, much more! So much that I doubt my capacity for telling you without losing my temper!’
She stared at him unhappily. ‘Then don’t tell me,’ she said, rather chokingly. ‘Surely you can see you are as biased as I am?’
Dimitri heaved a sigh. ‘Won’t you sit down?’ he inquired tautly. ‘Some of this must be said. I insist. If only for the sake of your father who is still alive. Your mother is dead. What I say cannot hurt her now.’
Joanne hesitated, and then with a gesture she perched rather nervously on the edge of the banquette. ‘Very well,’ she said quietly. ‘What have you to say?’
‘Merely this,’ said Dimitri heavily. ‘Your father is a man involved with his family – every member of his family, and that includes you. Whatever has gone before, he is prepared to forgive you and take you back.’
Joanne stared at him. ‘Take me back?’ she echoed, uncomprehendingly.
‘Maybe my choice of words was unsuitable in the circumstances,’ said Dimitri, leaning his hands on the table and looking down at her. ‘But that was what your letter accomplished, Miss Nicolas!’
Joanne could not meet his gaze for long, and her lashes veiled her eyes. ‘So that was why you imagined I had written to my father,’ she said slowly. ‘Your fears were unfounded, Mr. Kastro.’
Dimitri straightened and frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
Joanne looked up. ‘Surely it’s obvious. Naturally the news of my father’s illness has shocked me, but ultimately it alters nothing.’
Dimitri uttered an expletive. ‘You don’t seem to understand what I am trying to say, Miss Nicolas,’ he affirmed with emphasis. ‘Your father sent me here to bring you back to him!’
Joanne looked positively astounded. ‘My father did what?’
‘I think you heard what I said, Miss Nicolas. What other reaction did you expect him to have?’
Joanne shook her head bewilderedly. ‘I didn’t imagine he would react in any way,’ she exclaimed. ‘After all, why should he? He never bothered about me all these years—’
‘That is not true!’ said Dimitri harshly. ‘You must not labour under that misapprehension!’
‘What do you mean?’ Her young face was strained.
‘Exactly what I say! Believe me, Miss Nicolas, this is as distasteful to me as it is to you, but it seems your mother has deceived you on various points. Your father did not abandon you without making absolutely certain you were well taken care of. And during the years since your parents’ divorce, he has regularly apprised himself of your activities.’
Joanne got unsteadily to her feet, and walked shakily across the room to where a tall window overlooked the bleak aspect of the car-park. ‘I – I
