Relief washed over me, quickly followed by shame. Mick was lounging in the open doorway, his eyes drinking in the view.
“Err, hi,” I said sheepishly.
“Hi, yourselves,” he drawled, his body unmoving. “Do you know what torture it is to witness that and not come anywhere near the pair of you? If your Dad—”
“Mick!” My worried gaze turned to Emma, her form unmoving as she continued to watch him with a growing sense of panic. It was clear it was more than simply embarrassment. She looked terrified. And it wouldn’t be Mick she was scared of. It was my stepfather.
“It’s okay, Emma,” I assured her, my body shielding her from Mick’s view as she lifted her eyes to mine, clearly struggling to believe me.
“Mick won’t say a word” — I fixed him with a pointed stare — “will you?”
“Hell no! Do you know what he would do to me if he even knew I’d seen you both?”
“See, Emma, it’s going to be fine,” I stressed as I turned to face her once more. “No one else need know, okay?”
She relaxed slightly before me and nodded.
“I hate to break this up, ladies, but I believe you’re expected at dinner in half an hour.”
“Christ, is it that time already?” I flicked my gaze to my watch. He was right, we needed to get dressed and get out of there. Throwing him a look over my shoulder, I said sarcastically, “Would you mind giving us some privacy then?”
“Spoilsport,” he teased, his eyes flashing as he pushed himself off the doorframe and turned away. “I’ll be back in five, ladies, trust you will be gone by then.”
Chapter Eight
Forty-five minutes later, showered and wearing a full-length dress that Dad would approve of, I entered the dining room. Emma and Dad were already tucking into dinner. Emma looked up from her plate to send me a heart-warming smile, her cheeks flushing beneath her makeup and I knew her thoughts were on the events of the afternoon, just as mine were.
“Good evening,” I said, returning her smile with surprising ease considering Dad’s brooding presence at the head of the table.
“So you finally decided to join us?” he snapped, his glowering gaze burning into me as I took up the empty seat opposite Emma.
I forced myself to look right at him, my smile still fixed to my face. “I’m sor—”
“Save it!” he said, putting an end to my apology. Not that it really mattered; I didn’t mean it anyway. “If it wasn’t for my intrigue at our conversation over Daniel earlier I’d send you elsewhere to eat.”
Shit!I had totally forgotten about my suggestive words regarding Daniel. I really didn’t want to havethattalk now, especially in front of Emma.
“Sorry, Daddy,” I tried again, doing my best to look contrite.
“Well, I assume you must have good reason?” he said, taking up his cutlery, his focus returning to the food before him.
The best,I thought, as an image of Emma shattering above me filled my mind and sent my cheeks flaming. I needed to get a grip and clawing onto the first excuse I could think of, said, “I had a phone call.”
His eyes flicked back to mine, their depths glittering with ignited excitement, his forked food pausing mid-air. “Daniel, perhaps?”
“Yes,” I blurted before I could think better of it, desperation to be out of his bad books winning out.
“Well, I’ll be damned!” he smiled. “I just knew he’d take a liking to you” — his attention turned to Emma — “it’s like I said, keeping her around really does have its benefits.”
His heartless words left his mouth so easily, and as soon as they were out his eyes returned to his plate, his mind obviously thinking on his grand master plan. He wasn’t even waiting on Emma for a response. And it certainly didn’t warrant one from me. I eyed her over the table, trying to gauge her reaction. I didn’t need to try hard. Her eyes glistened in the light as they held my gaze, the color in her cheeks now non-existent.
The strong urge to cover her hand with my own, to reassure her that she needn’t be upset on my behalf, forced me to look away and I tried to turn my attention to eating. Yet I could sense she still watched me, her body motionless, her knuckles white around the stem of her wine glass.
I chanced a glance, my gaze imploring as I looked from her face to her food in a silent prompt for her to eat and to drop whatever thought was running through her mind.
Slowly, she brought the wine glass to her lips and took a contemplative sip, her gaze still level with mine. But as she returned the drink to the table, her color heightened anew, a surprising warmth filling her features as she turned to look at my stepfather. “Why, yes, darling, I do believe you are incredibly lucky to have someone as special as her around.”
The open adoration in her tone had my heart thudding in my chest, and a heat spreading in my lower belly. Did she not realize how she sounded?
