be.
‘Anyway,’ she went on, unaware of his agitation, ‘your aunt said that was when—when he decided to contact me.’
‘Yeah.’ Dominic sucked in a breath. ‘He’d known the Novaks wouldn’t take kindly to any intervention from him. But after—well, after the funeral, he had a firm of in vestigators find out all about you.’
‘But how did he know about the train crash?’
‘Again, according to his lawyer, he’d already traced the Novaks to Islington. It wasn’t until after the funeral he discovered that you weren’t living with them.’
Cleo frowned. ‘I moved out a couple of years ago, when Mom and Dad went to live with Mrs Chapman. I was just finishing college and I’d got the job at St Augustine’s, so I didn’t want to move away.’
‘So you decided to share an apartment with a friend?’
‘More or less.’
Dominic realised she was unaware of it, but this was the first time she’d been totally relaxed with him.
And he was enjoying her company far too much.
Nevertheless, it was impossible to ignore the fact that he was possibly her only ally here. His grandfather had his own agenda, no doubt, but both Serena and his mother resented her. That went without saying.
And her vulnerability stirred him in a way he’d never felt before. In her simple T-shirt and shorts, her dark hair caught up in a ponytail, she looked so young and—dammit, innocent.
He scowled. He had to stop feeling responsible for her, he told himself. The old man wouldn’t like it; wouldn’t like the idea that she depended on Dominic and not himself.
But it was that sense of responsibility that had made Dominic accept his grandfather’s invitation to stay the night at Magnolia Hill. Despite the fact that Sarah Cordy, his current girlfriend, had made him promise to go and see her as soon as he got back…
‘Norah—that’s the girl I live with,’ Cleo was saying now, completely unaware of his frustration, ‘she was finding the rent of the apartment too much for just one person, so she offered me the chance to share.’ She smiled disarmingly. ‘I jumped at it.’
‘And Eric? Where does he fit in?’
Dominic heard the words leave his lips with a feeling of incredulity. Dammit, whoever Eric was, it was nothing to do with him. But it was too late to take them back now.
‘Eric?’ Cleo’s lips rounded. ‘Oh, yes, you met Eric, didn’t you?’ A teasing smile tilted her mouth. ‘Did he scare you?’
‘Are you kidding me?’
Dominic had answered without thinking, but now he realised she’d just been baiting him.
‘Oh, yeah, very clever,’ he grunted. ‘The guy really had me quaking at the knees.’
‘And they’re such nice knees, aren’t they?’ Cleo giggled, stepping back to get a better look. ‘Mmm, you definitely wouldn’t win any knobbly-knees contest.’
‘Any what?’ he was demanding, advancing on her half threateningly, when they both became aware that they were no longer alone.
His mother was standing at the far side of the terrace, amazingly holding the tray that contained Cleo’s breakfast in her hands.
Her blue eyes were glacial as they rested on Cleo’s flushed face. Then warmed slightly when they moved to her son.
‘Am I interrupting?’ she asked, indicating the tray. ‘I intercepted Susie in the foyer and she said you’d asked for this, Dominic.’ Her smile was thin. ‘I thought you’d already had breakfast.’
‘I have.’
Dominic was fairly sure the tray wasn’t all his mother had got from Susie, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
‘It’s Cleo’s breakfast,’ he said pleasantly. ‘Here.’ He went towards her. ‘Let me take it from you.’
‘I can manage,’ she said.
But somehow—Dominic didn’t want to think it was deliberate—the tray slipped from her hands.
Cleo jumped back as cups and saucers shattered on the stone paving, Fruit juice and hot coffee splashed in all directions, the latter burning as it touched her bare feet.
She bent automatically to pick up a rolling peach, its skin as soft as her own, thought Dominic savagely. But bruised now, as she was, by his mother’s careless hands.
Then her eyes moved anxiously to his and he turned to give his mother an enigmatic look.
‘Oh, dear me!’ Lily Montoya pressed her clasped hands to her breast. ‘I’m so clumsy.’
And if Cleo hadn’t seen the look the woman had cast her earlier, she might have believed she meant it.
‘IT DOESN’T matter.’ Dominic was dismissive, almost as if destroying an expensive porcelain coffee service was of no matter. ‘I’ll get Susie to bring another tray.’
‘Oh, please, don’t!’
Cleo’s cry arrested him. She didn’t think she could bear to be alone with Lily Montoya at this moment.
She hadn’t asked to come here, she told herself as the other woman’s expression hardened. And, although she had sympathy for Lily’s feelings, Dominic’s mother shouldn’t blame her because her husband hadn’t been able to keep his trousers zipped.
‘Cleo—’ Dominic began, when the clatter of a stick against stone made them all turn.
‘Dom! Dom!’ Jacob Montoya stumped heavily across the terrace, sharp eyes taking in the scene and finding it wanting. ‘What’s going on here, boy? Has your mother been throwing china around again?’
‘I dropped the tray, Jacob.’ Lily was defensive. ‘I’m not in the habit of breaking things.’
‘If you say so.’ Jacob spoke indifferently. ‘I just hope you’re not trying to intimidate our guest.’
Lily’s lips tightened. ‘Your guest, Jacob. Not mine. Or Dominic’s.’
‘Ma!’ Dominic intervened now, aware that Cleo’s face was rapidly losing all colour. ‘Can’t you see, Cleo had no part in Dad’s defection? You can’t blame her for something she knew nothing about.’
‘And that’s the truth,’ broke in his grandfather staunchly, but Lily wasn’t listening to him.
Taking a handkerchief out of her handbag, she held it to her nose, her eyes seeking Dominic’s in mute appeal. ‘I’m not to blame either,’ she whispered tearfully. ‘I thought
