shoulders slumped. “I thought you might have a change of heart. They’re fragile.”
“I see that they’re fragile,” he told her. “I don’t intend to harm them.”
Despite his desire to remain uninvolved, he couldn’t help being moved by the sadness in her voice and her concern for her friends. He felt an unfamiliar urge to make a promise that he couldn’t possibly keep, to tell her that her world wouldn’t change. But he knew all too well how damaging lies could be. He resisted the urge to touch her.
“This is the only home they’ve known for years,” Daisy said. “They fit here. They don’t fit just anywhere. They’re not interchangeable parts that you can plug into any old socket.”
She was reproaching him. He couldn’t blame her, not when she was clearly in pain. Still, he wasn’t going to defend himself, either. That had never been his way.
“We’ll find a suitable place. Or two,” he said. “In a month it will be just like home to all of you. Better than this place.”
She stared at him with those big accusing eyes and he felt as if a part of him he didn’t even recognize had been seared. But he knew better than to let regret or … or feelings enter into this. That path offered nothing but disaster.
“I’ll help you, Daisy,” he reiterated. “Because you can’t stay here. I’ll be leaving soon, and when I go, this building will be empty and it will be sold.”
Daisy stood there and stared at him as if she were taking a beating, not moving, not talking, just … letting his words rain down on her. But at last she gave a brief nod. “You didn’t come to Las Vegas for us. You came because Tillie died and her property passed to you. You’ll want to see what she left you,” she whispered. “I’ll take you there now. I’m afraid there’s not much in the way of personal treasure.”
For some reason he was reluctant to follow Daisy, even though this was one of the main reasons why he was here. After all, this building was her home even if she had no legal right to be here. Still, he couldn’t allow himself to be sentimental. He needed to put Daisy on his checklist the way he put all his tasks on lists. In order of priority. Right now, finding her and the others a new home was high on the list of things he needed to check off. Discovering all he could about his aunt was up there, too. He wasn’t really looking forward to either of those, but at least tending to Daisy and her situation and digging into his aunt’s past was a respite from the board trying to entice him with every debutante in Boston. Right?
He gazed down at Daisy. Had he been staring at her for long? She was blushing prettily, that delicious rose color heating her cheeks, her chest and dipping beneath the bodice of her dress …
“Parker?”
He jerked to attention. Caught. “Sorry. My mind was wandering.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I was thinking about real estate,” he lied. “The agent … I’ll send one here tomorrow. You should compose a list of requirements … anything an agent should know about your needs.”
“Such as how many bedrooms?”
“Yes. Such as that, and whether stairs are a concern. For Nola.”
“I’m surprised you care.”
Parker took a deep breath. “It’s not caring,” he insisted. “It’s common sense. I told you that I’m all business, no sentiment.”
“So you don’t want to see any of Tillie’s things before you tear the building down?”
Wrong. He very much wanted—and needed—to see Tillie’s things. Not for sentimental reasons, but for business ones. But he wouldn’t tell Daisy that. Tillie had been her friend, and she wouldn’t want to know that his chief interest in his aunt was protecting his business from … whatever it was that had made his parents turn their backs on her. There was something hidden, something unacceptable. What was it? What had Mathilda done that had gotten her shunned? Knowing how his parents had been, it could have been anything. They both excelled at shunning people. There would be dirt, of course, but it might not even be very bad dirt. It didn’t take much …
“Show me,” he said. And then, looking into Daisy’s eyes and realizing how cold and imperious that had sounded, he added, “Please show me.”
“All right. It’s just at the top of the stairs.” She turned and began to lead him into the hallway that separated the two buildings. There was a set of stairs there and Daisy led the way.
Her hips swayed before him, and he did his best to put a leash on the quite natural heat that inspired. Instead he tried to concentrate on other things … such as her posture. Her back was very straight, very rigid and he knew that she didn’t like doing this one bit. She didn’t really want him to look at his aunt’s belongings.
“Daisy,” he said softly. “I promise I won’t do anything drastic today.”
Daisy suddenly stopped on the stairs in front of him, and he bumped into her, nearly knocking her forward. Automatically, he looped his arm around her waist to steady her.
That brought her body fully against his, and the soft give of her flesh beneath his palm made his pulse quicken. Her pretty little butt was up against him, his chest against her back. Intimate. His body reacted. Instantly.
Wrong.
He hurried to steady and release her. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, but her back had become even more rigid, if that was possible. “I hadn’t thought about the fact that you would probably pitch all of Tillie’s stuff.”
He wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t, that she could have it, but … how did he know that? Stuff could be hard evidence and could be used against a person.
“We’ll see what’s there, but I won’t do anything right away. Today I’m just looking. All right?”
She nodded, but her body radiated tension, possibly even anger. At the top of the stairs, Daisy pushed on a door that creaked as it opened. She flipped on a light switch and motioned Parker inside. Immediately, a sparkle caught his eye and he turned his gaze to the other side of the room where several clothing racks stood end to end. One of them contained nondescript middle-aged-woman outfits in cheap fabrics. The other two sparkled and glittered with sequins and fake jewels. Some of the outfits sported feathers. All of them were barely there.
He whirled and looked at Daisy. “These were … my aunt’s? She was a …”
Daisy placed one hand on her hips. “Tillie was a showgirl, among other things.” And then she must have noticed his confused look. What did among other things mean?
“Hmmm, I’ll bet that won’t play very well in Boston,” she said. “Or with those luxury-seeking customers who like things sanitized.”
He stepped forward, then froze. “Are you threatening me, Daisy?”
“Threatening?” Looking down at her wide, startled eyes, he realized that he had been wrong. She hadn’t been. And now, once again, he was close enough to touch her. That couldn’t keep happening.
“No, of course not,” he said, backing off. “But you said … among other things. What else was she?” His breath lifted a loose lock of hair at her temple.
Daisy reached out as if to touch him … or push him away, he didn’t know which. “I’m not sure I can explain what Tillie was, and—” She took a big step back. Two steps. One more and she would be tumbling backward down the stairs.
He reached out to catch her again, but she shook her head as she turned and started down the stairs. “I have to go to work,” she said. “I have a tour group, and we have another wedding tonight and one tomorrow.”
And she fled down the stairs.
A