objection to his challenge of Stuart’s will.
“Does Andrea know why you’re doing this? Is it what she wants?”
Vanessa’s soft voice cut straight into his thought process, as if she’d read his mind.
And when he didn’t answer, she added, “I thought as much.”
That jolted him hard. The initial questions, the way she’d read him so accurately, the knowledge that she’d turned his beliefs inside out.
Yet this had been his pursuit for two years, his conviction for longer. He would not toss it without hearing the truth from his mother. Not without considering all he’d learned this morning, away from the influence of steady green eyes and rose-scented skin.
Resolve tightened his features as he nodded to her bundle of flowers. “Shouldn’t you be putting those in water?”
She blinked with surprise, as if she’d been so intent on their discussion that she’d forgotten her morning’s purpose. “I … yes.”
“I need to go. I have some decisions to make.”
Hope fluttered like a bird’s wing in her eyes. “You’ll let me know … once you’ve decided.”
“You’ll be the first.”
He nodded goodbye and had gone maybe ten strides before she called his name. He paused. Turned to look over his shoulder and was floored again by the picture she made with the sunlight silhouetting her body and legs through that filmy pink robe.
Like the roses, he figured she’d forgotten her state of dress. Or undress. For both their sakes, he wasn’t about to point out what was clearly defined by the unforgiving light.
“The letter I told you about, from your father—I kept a copy. It’s yours, Tristan. If you like, I can go and get it for you.”
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