Why?
Because of a silly incident fifteen years ago and a sense of responsibility to a dead man? He dropped into a chair, his chest heavy.
She sat too. She glanced at the letter, but she didn’t ask about it. Instead, she selected a cupcake and cut it into quarters, sliced one quarter in half and with the crumb delicately held between thumb and forefinger she brought it to her mouth. Her lips closed about it and she let out a breath, her eyes half closing.
He swallowed. If the taste and texture of salted caramel did that to her, he wondered what she’d look like if she licked whipped cream from his—
He shot back in his chair, hot and hard. Hell! Where had that come from? Gritting his teeth, he tried to shake his mind free from the scent of sugar. He gulped coffee instead and scalded his tongue.
‘Ignoring it won’t make it go away.’ She broke off another crumb. He averted his gaze as she lifted it towards her mouth. She was silent for a moment. ‘You really aren’t sure yet if you do want a brother or a sister, are you?’
He’d already told her that. ‘You don’t get it?’ Why he’d expected her to understand he couldn’t begin to explain. They might’ve grown up in the same neighbourhood, but they came from completely different worlds.
‘I think I do. You’re afraid this unknown sibling will reject you.’
Her candour sliced into the heart of him. He held himself tight so he couldn’t flinch.
‘I’d be afraid of that too.’
The simple admission eased some of the previous sting. ‘Who in their right mind would reject you, Princess?’
‘I know. It’s inconceivable, isn’t it?’ She lifted her nose in the air and gave an elegant shrug, but it was so over the top he found himself biting back a grin.
He let a part of the grin free and reached for a cake.
‘You’re afraid your history—having been to jail and whatnot—will mean they won’t want anything to do with you.’
He bit into the cupcake, barely tasting it.
‘And yet you’re also afraid your sibling could be on the same path you were, that he or she may need help.’
It took all of his strength to swallow without choking. Acid churned in his stomach.
‘There’s no easy answer to any of that, is there?’
He couldn’t bear to look at her. He wasn’t sure he could stand the sympathy he suspected he would find in her face. He pushed his chair back and sat side on to the table.
‘You do know you don’t have to address those concerns yet, though, don’t you?’
Very slowly, he turned back to her. Her face wasn’t full of sympathy, but rather no-nonsense practicality.
‘You can find out who this sibling is and then make the decision about whether to approach them or not.’
She had a point. In fact she made a very good point. He straightened. If all was well and good in his sibling’s life, he could walk away without a pang.
Liar.
If all weren’t well, maybe he’d find a way to help them anonymously.
Or maybe he’d introduce himself. Maybe he’d give family another shot and—
He clenched his eyes and closed his mind to that possibility. It was too soon to think about it, too soon to get caught up in the fairy tale Nell harboured—that this would end well for everyone. This was the real world and, more often than not, in the real world things didn’t work out.
That didn’t change the fact that on this point she was right—he didn’t need to make every decision at this current moment in time. He went to reach for the envelope when she said, ‘It’s also occurred to me...’
She bit her lip. It made her look incredibly young. He pulled his hand back. ‘What?’
She grimaced. ‘What if John left a letter for your sibling with sleazy solicitor Garside—to be opened at some future date?’
He stiffened.
‘What if at some time in the future this sibling turns up on your doorstep? Wouldn’t it be better to...’ She trailed off as if she didn’t know how to finish that sentence despite all of her surface polish.
His hand clenched to a fist. ‘You’re saying forewarned is forearmed?’
They stared at each other for a moment. Eventually she shook her head. ‘I don’t know what I’m saying.’
Her chin lifted. ‘Yes, I do. I’m saying read the darn letter, Rick, and then maybe you’ll enjoy your cupcake.’
It surprised a laugh out of him. The Princess had changed from the shy little kid and the awkward teenager. He wanted to ask her about the transformation, only he suspected she’d chide him for changing the subject and avoiding the obvious.
And she’d probably be right.
He tore open the letter. He tried not to think too hard about what he was doing. It didn’t stop the skin of his scalp tightening over until it became one big prickling itch.
The envelope contained a single sheet of folded paper. His hand trembled—just for a fraction of a second—and that sign of weakness make him want to smash something. He glanced at Nell to see if she’d noticed, but she was intent on reducing her cupcake to a pile of crumbs. He let out a breath and unfolded the sheet of paper.
He stared and stared.
And then he let loose with the rudest word he knew.
Nell jumped. Her chin shot up. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Sorry,’ he growled. Not that he felt the least bit remorseful.
She moistened her bottom lip and he was suddenly and ravenously hungry. For a moment it seemed that if he could lose himself in her for an hour he’d find the answer to ease the burn in his soul.
As if she’d read that thought in his eyes, she drew back, but pink stained her cheeks and her breathing had grown shallower. If he wanted, he could seduce her. Right here, right now.
If he wanted...
A harsh laugh broke from him. Oh, he wanted all right, but there was always a price to pay for seducing a woman. The price for this woman would be too high.
He leapt out of his chair and wheeled away, his hands clenched to fists.
‘Please don’t punch a wall. I already have enough holes to mend.’
Her words couldn’t drag even a ghost of a smile from him.
‘I take it, then, that you recognise the name John has given you?’
Name? Ha! He wheeled back and thrust the letter at her. With a wary glance up at him she took it. She stared at him for two beats more, looked as if she wanted to say something, and then with the tiniest of shrugs turned her gaze to the letter.
She frowned. She turned it over and then back. She held it up to the light. The frown deepened to a scowl. She slammed it down to the table. ‘But this doesn’t make sense!’
‘It’s obviously some kind of code.’
‘A code?’
She swore then too and it surprised him so much his head rocked back.
‘Of all the mean-spirited pieces of spite!’ She leapt up, hands clenched and eyes narrowed, as she paced up and down beside the table. ‘Not only does he spend your entire childhood ignoring you—’ she flung an arm out ‘—but now he plagues you with nonsense and taunts you with a carrot he keeps whisking out of reach.’
She ended on an incoherent growl