“What’s up, Savannah?” He kept his gaze on his sister, since she was far too observant, and if he chanced glancing at Lilah, his sister would no doubt see more than he wanted her to. He was less and less sure of his ability to mask his thoughts since Lilah had entered his life. After all, if she could read him after knowing each other only two weeks, his sister would probably be able to pick thoughts right from his brain.
“Nothing much.” Savannah lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Just wanted to see your new place, see Spring’s baby and—”
“And?” He waited, knowing there was a real reason for her visit. None of the siblings came by or called unless they needed something.
“Okay,” she said with a laugh, “I want to use the family jet and the pilot won’t take off without your say-so.”
He frowned. “Where are you going?”
“Just Paris for a week or two. I need a change,” she said and gave him the pout that had always worked on their father. It didn’t have the same effect on Reed, because he knew she used that poor-little-me look as her most effective weapon. “I broke up with Sean and I need some me time. You know how it is, right?”
The last, she directed at Lilah, who had been watching the byplay silently. “Um…”
When she got no support from Lilah, Savannah turned back to her brother. “Come on, Reed. Be a sport. You’re not using it in the next day or two, are you?”
“No,” he said, jiggling the baby a little when she began to squirm.
“So what’s the problem?” Savannah turned and said, “Lilah, right? You’re with me on this, aren’t you? I mean, you know what it feels like to just need a break, right?”
Lilah smiled and shook her head. “I don’t know. When I take a break from work, I drive to the city. I’ve never been to Paris.”
“Oh, my God.” Savannah looked at her as if Lilah had confessed to being a serial killer. “Seriously? You’ve got to go. Make Reed take you. Well, after my trip,” she added quickly. “But you should definitely go. There is this amazing little street café right near Sacré-Coeur…”
While his sister babbled on about the wonders of the City of Lights, Reed jiggled the baby nestled against him, trying to keep her happy. That’s when he felt a sudden warmth spread across his chest.
“Oh, man.” He looked down at the naked baby in his arms and realized he really should have put a diaper on her right away.
“What’s wrong?” Lilah asked instantly.
“Nothing,” Reed muttered. “She just—”
Picking up on what had happened, Savannah laughed in delight. “She peed on you! God, Spring would have laughed so hard right now…”
As soon as she said it, silence settled over the three of them like a cold blanket. In the harsh bathroom light, Reed could see the signs of grieving that his sister had tried to conceal with a bright smile. Even as he watched her, Savannah sobered and she looked from Reed to Lilah. Shaking her head, she swallowed hard, blew out a breath and whispered, “I can’t believe she’s gone. Not really, you know?”
“I feel the same way,” Lilah said softly, reaching out one hand to lay it on Savannah’s arm. “Spring was a good friend to me, but she was your sister and I’m so sorry.”
Lost in the face of his sister’s pain, Reed was grateful for the sympathy in Lilah’s gaze and voice. Helping Savannah or any of the others deal with Spring’s death was especially hard for him since he hadn’t actually dealt with it yet himself.
“That’s why you really want to go to Paris, isn’t it?” Reed asked.
“Yes,” Savannah admitted on a sigh. “Sean was just another ship in the night, but Spring…” She winced a little. “We went to Paris together five years ago, remember?”
Reed gave her a tired smile and said wryly, “I remember getting a late-night call from a gendarme asking me if I was willing to pay bail for you and Spring after you went swimming in a public fountain.”
Savannah laughed and lifted one hand to cover her mouth. “That’s right. I’d forgotten about that. God, we had fun on that trip. Now…I just want to go back. Remember.”
Reed looked into her eyes and saw the misery just beneath the surface and he understood her need to go back, retrace her steps with their lost sister. Try to relive the joy to ease the pain. Though none of their parents would win any awards for their skills at nurturing, all of the siblings had managed to stay close.
He had no doubt that Savannah was thinking of a trip to Paris as a sort of wake for the sister she would miss so much. Hell, he knew how she felt. He felt it, too. Here he stood, holding his sister’s child, and the baby girl would never remember her mother. Reed would never see Spring again. Never hear that raucous laugh of hers, and it tore at him that the last time he’d seen her, they’d parted angrily. He’d never get that moment back. Never be able to rewrite the past.
Too many nevers, he told himself. Too much left unsaid, undone, and now, too late to change a damn thing.
“If it helps to know it,” Lilah was saying, her voice breaking through his thoughts, “Spring was really happy with her life. She had a lot of friends.”
Savannah looked at Lilah for a long minute, then finally nodded. “It does help. Thank you. And you should know that whenever I talked to my sister, she told me about how kind you were. How much she loved her job.”
Now Reed was surprised. Savannah had known about Spring actually working? Was he the only one his sister hadn’t confided in?
Turning to her brother again, Savannah said, “I’m so glad I came here in person instead of calling. I like seeing you with the baby and I think Spring would get a real kick out of it, too.”
“Yeah,” Reed said, still holding the squirmy, wet baby close to his chest. “You’re right. She would.”
He looked from the baby to Savannah to Lilah and realized that he was surrounded by women—and that wasn’t even counting Connie, who was off in the kitchen. Yeah, Spring would have loved seeing him like this. And the thought made him smile.
How his life had changed in a couple of short weeks.
“So?” his sister prodded. “Can I use the plane?”
Nodding, he said, “I’ll call the pilot. Let him know you’re coming.”
Lilah looked up at him, gave him a wide, approving smile, and for some reason, Reed felt as if he’d just won a medal.
* * *
“Savannah seemed nice,” Lilah said later as she shared tea and some of Connie’s magic chocolate chip bars with the housekeeper in the kitchen.
And, she thought as she took another bite and gave an inner sigh, Reed was right. They were “magic.”
Lilah loved this room. As with any house, the kitchen really was the heart of things. And this one was amazing. It could have graced the pages of any magazine. The walls were cream colored, the miles of quartz counter were white with streaks of gray marbling. Upper cabinets were white, lowers were a dark gray and the floor was a wide-plank dark walnut. Tucked into the nook where a bay window offered a view of the backyard, the two women sat at an oak pedestal table. A silver pendant light that looked like an old-fashioned gas lamp hung over the table and provided the only light in the otherwise darkened room.
“Oh,” Connie said with a laugh, “that Savannah has a good soul but a wild heart. She’s always up to something.” Chuckling now, she added, “Always had a plan cooking in that quick brain of hers. She spent many a night in my kitchen washing dishes for some transgression or other.”
Lilah smiled in response. “Reed told me that you were their real parent.”
Flushing with pleasure, Connie shook her head, took a sip of tea and said, “Not really, but I’m sure it felt that way to them from time to time. Anyway, it was good to see Savannah even though it was a quick visit.”
Quick indeed. Reed’s sister had left almost immediately after he’d called the airport to okay her flight to Paris. As for Reed, once he’d dressed Rose in her pj’s and got her into bed, he’d shut himself up in his study. He hadn
’t so much as poked his head out in hours.
And Lilah had had to force herself to leave him to his solitude. But there’d been a look on his face when Savannah had rushed out—as if he wished she’d stayed longer. But he hadn’t said anything. Hadn’t asked her to sit down for a while and have a cup of coffee, and she wondered why. It was as if the distance he tried to keep with Rose was simply the way he treated everyone he cared about.
Had he always been so closed off? Or was it a self-defense mechanism? And if it was, what was he protecting himself from? She had more questions than answers and Lilah knew there was one sure way to get some insight into who exactly Reed Hudson was. Talk to the woman who’d raised him.
“Reed didn’t seem surprised to have his sister dash in and out.”
“Oh,” Connie said, taking a sip of tea, “he’s used to that. All of the siblings come and go from his life regularly.” She set her cup down and continued, “They love each other, but every last one of them has a loner streak. I suppose that’s to be expected, since their parents really did leave them to their own devices more often than not. And, ever since he was a teenager, the others have turned to Reed to solve problems.”
Lilah’s heart ached a little for the loneliness he must have felt as a child. Lilah’s own childhood had been great. With two parents who loved each other and doted on her, she’d never been left on her own.
“But he was just a kid, too.”
Connie laughed a little. “I think Reed was born old. At least, he has an old soul. Never a single day’s trouble out of that boy. Always did what was expected of him, never made waves. He had his own…code, I guess you’d say. His own rules for living, even as a little boy. To tell the truth, I used to wish he would rebel a little. But he’s always had the maturity that the rest of the family—” she broke off and scowled “—including his parents, lacked.”
Now Lilah had the mental image of a little boy, carving out a set of rules so he could keep the world around him safe. Was that what his private wall was about? Keeping out people who might disturb his sense of order?
“Really?” Lilah had already realized that a one-word question would be enough to keep Connie talking.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Connie said, and the halo of light from the pendant fixture overhead gilded her hair and shone in her eyes. “His parents aren’t evil by any means. They love the kids, they’re just…careless. Careless with what means the most and the sad thing is, they won’t realize it until it’s too late to change anything.
“One day they’ll be old and wondering why their children don’t come to visit.” She nodded to herself and gave a little sigh. “They’ve no real relationship with their own children and that’s a sad statement to make, I think.”
“It is,” Lilah agreed. She couldn’t imagine the kind of childhood Reed and his siblings had had. But it still didn’t give her insight into the man. And she found she wanted to know him.
“Does he see a lot of his family?”
“Well, now,” Connie admitted, “I’ve not had a chance to see it on a daily basis for the last couple of years. But when the kids come to visit me, they often talk of Reed.”
“They visit you?”
“Sure they do,” Connie said, laughing. “I’m the one who smacked their bottoms, dried their tears and took care of them when they were sick, aren’t I?”
His parents might not have been worth much, Lilah thought, but he’d had Connie and somehow that made her feel much better both about his childhood and Rose’s situation, as well. With Connie in her life, Rosie would get plenty of affection and care, Lilah told herself.
“Reed’s told me how much you meant to all of them. To him.”
Connie smiled, clearly pleased to hear it. “They’re all good people, every last one of them. And I know how they’ll all miss Spring.” She took a breath and slowly turned her teacup on the counter in tiny circles. “But I think it will hit Reed hardest—once he finally allows himself the chance to mourn her. He was always the one who took charge of the others. And losing her hurt him. I can see it in him.”
“I can, too,” Lilah mused. More tonight than ever before. It was seeing him with Savannah, she thought. The brother and sister having that sorrow-filled moment over their sister. While Savannah’s pain had been obvious to anyone looking at her, seeing that same anguish in Reed took more effort. But Lilah had seen his brilliant green eyes go momentarily soft and she’d read the regret in those depths. Her heart hurt for him and she was surprised by the strength of her compassion.
When she’d arrived here, she’d expected to hate him on sight. To resent him for taking Rose away from her. Now she was beginning to feel for him, understand what drove him.
“The others now,” Connie said after a moment, “they come and go from Reed’s life. Each of them will pop in from time to time, usually when they need something, then they disappear again until there’s a new need. He’d never say it, but I imagine that bothers him.”
“It would bother anyone,” Lilah said and she found herself offended on his behalf. Did his siblings appreciate him only for what he could do for them?
“Reed’s a strong one. He’s made himself so.” Connie lifted her cup for a sip. “But there’s a fine line, I think, between being strong and being hard. I worry that he doesn’t see it.”
So did Lilah. The wall he’d built around himself was so solid, she had thought it impenetrable. But there had been one or two times when she’d sensed a chink in his armor.
“Well,” Connie announced, “morning comes early, so I’m off to bed. Just leave the teacups here on the table, Lilah. I’ll take care of them in the morning.”
“Okay. Good night.” She watched Connie walk to her suite and for a minute, Lilah just sat there in the kitchen, listening to the silence. The refrigerator hummed and ice thunked into the bin. She checked the time and told herself to go to bed. It was already eleven o’clock and Connie was right, morning would come early. Rosie wasn’t one for sleeping in.
But Lilah wasn’t ready for bed. She felt…restless.
She stood, then turned the lights off, plunging the room into darkness as she left and headed down the hall. Her mind was busy, rehashing that scene with Savannah, then the conversation with Connie. Which turned her thoughts to Reed. No surprise there, since he’d spent a lot of time front and center in her brain over the past couple of weeks.
But now, along with the attraction she’d felt from the start, there was also…admiration and a tug of—not sympathy, she assured herself. He didn’t need her pity and wouldn’t want it even if he did. But she could feel bad for him that his family came to him only when they needed something from him.
The more she thought about him, the more she wanted to see him. Talk to him. Assure herself he was okay and not sitting in a dark room feeling sad or depressed or… Oh, hell, she just wanted to see him. Before she could talk herself out of it, Lilah marched up to the closed study door and knocked.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“What is it?”
He didn’t sound happy and Lilah almost changed her mind, but then she remembered that look in his eyes when he and Savannah were remembering Spring. Nope, she wasn’t going to leave him alone until she knew he was all right.
She opened the door, poked her head inside and asked, “Are you busy?”
She could see he wasn’t. The room was dark, but firelight spilled out into the shadows, creating weird images that danced across the ceiling and walls.
Rather than sitting behind his desk, he was on the other side of the room in one of the wide leather chairs pulled up in front of the wide, stone hearth, facing the fire. Those shadows moved over his features as he half turned to look at her. There was a short glass of what she guessed was scotch sitting on the table beside him.
She noted his usually tidy hair looked as if he’d been stabbing his fingers through it repeatedly. He wore a short-sleeved black T-shirt that he’d changed into after bathing Rose and a pair o
f worn jeans that looked as good on him as his usual uniform of elegant suits. He was barefoot, legs kicked out in front of him, and again, she had to wonder what it was about bare feet that had become so sexy all of a sudden.
“Good, I’m glad you’re not busy,” she said, walking over to sit down in the chair beside his.
He scowled at her. “Who said I wasn’t?”
“I did. You’re having a drink and staring at a fire. That’s not busy. That’s brooding.”
“I’m not brooding,” he argued. “I’m busy thinking.”
“About?”
His scowl deepened and, weirdly, Lilah found it sort of cute. He probably thought it was intimidating, but he was wrong. At least, as far as Lilah was concerned.
“You’re damn nosy,” he mused, gaze fixed on her.
“If you’re not, you never find out anything,” she argued, then picked up his glass and took a sip. Instantly the fire of the expensive liquor burned a line down her throat and settled into her stomach to smolder.
“Please,” he said, waving one hand. “Help yourself.”
“No thanks, one sip of that is plenty. How do you stand it?” Firelight danced in his eyes and shadows chased each other across his features.
Smirking a little, he said, “Hundred-year-old scotch is an acquired taste. I acquired it.”
He was probably hoping that if he was surly enough, she’d leave. But wrong again. She glanced around the room, pleased with how it had turned out. There were bookcases behind his desk and along one wall, with paintings and framed awards hanging on the opposite wall. The stone hearth took up a third side of the room, while floor-to-ceiling windows made up the fourth. It was male, but cozy.
“Your sister seems nice.”
He snorted and picked up his glass for another sip. “Savannah is a force of nature. Like a hurricane. They’re rarely nice.”
Lilah saw more than she suspected he wanted her to see. He loved his sister, that had been clear. And though he sounded dismissive now, he was just doing the whole don’t-get-too-close thing. “Do you see her often?”
The Baby Inheritance (Billionaires and Babies) Page 9