Secrets Of The A-List. Dani Collins

way this place was. What would his life look like if not for his life here, he reflected briefly?

      The permanence of Casa Cat had grounded him, which was ironic considering the grandeur of the home itself. It sat upon a tall knoll, giving it stunning 360-degree views of the mountains, city and ocean. When he was ten, he had written a book report on Greek gods, identifying with the mortals who visited Mount Olympus.

      He valued the permanent place he’d been granted here. He had vowed long ago never to be cast from this place again.

      “Problem?” Mariella asked as she noted he was lagging behind, staring off to the glitter of the horizon against an intense blue sky.

      “Wondering where I would be if you hadn’t let me live here,” he admitted, moving to join her on the wide steps leading to the front doors.

      “Best decision we ever made,” she assured him with a kiss on his cheek. Then she rubbed her lipstick from his skin with her thumb.

      It was such a motherly thing to do, regressing him to the child he’d been, he smirked, holding still to allow it. And he felt a fresh kick of guilt for keeping her in the dark. He hated that tension around her eyes. Letting her worry, when he could ease her stress, rather than contribute to it, seemed cruel.

      He felt ungrateful.

      “Tía—” he began as he held the door for her, seesawing with indecision.

      “Where have you two been off to so early?” Ana was coming down the interior stairs wearing a peignoir of ice blue, breasts nearly falling out the V of lace. She struck a pose halfway down, as she liked to do, as though making an entrance to a ball, even though her hair was only finger combed and last night’s makeup had left smudges under her eyes.

      Gabe bit back a curse of impatience. Her presence in this house was a ticking bomb. Always had been. It wasn’t just the sense that her true reason for being here—whatever that might be—would explode at the most unexpected and inopportune moment. He had the old, niggling sensation from his childhood that when she did leave, she would try to drag him with her.

      “It’s noon,” Mariella pointed out coldly. “We went to visit Harrison. And that,” she gestured to the La Perla negligee that clung to her sister’s body, “is mine.”

      “Harrison?” Ana queried with false innocence, causing the temperature in the air-conditioned home to drop to subzero. “Or this?” She plucked at the lace on the lapel of her silk wrap, leaning on the rail to taunt, “Sisters share everything. Don’t they?”

      The tension condensed into an icy fog so tangible, Gabe could taste it. A dim memory came to him of another fight he’d overheard, years ago, when Mariella had been pushing for him to stay here.

      I know why you want him. Does Harrison know you’re still carrying a torch?

      That has nothing to do with it.

      You’re off the mark, anyway. Whatever you think you see in my son, whoever, it’s not there.

      I’m surprised you have any idea, one way or another, Mariella had countered bitterly.

      Elana had come along, interrupting Gabe’s eavesdropping. He hadn’t completely understood what he was hearing anyway, aside from being certain they were talking about him. Now the old, jagged pieces fell into a picture he saw more clearly. It made his heart pound. Hard.

      Had they fought over a man back then? His father?

      Gabe shifted his gaze between them. Mariella looked ready to spit nails. Ana flicked her hair behind her shoulder and cocked her hip.

      “I’ve shared my son with you all this time. Surely you can lend me a nightgown.”

      Gabe waited for Mariella to tell Ana to hit the road. She didn’t. Because if Mariella had a fault, it was weakness for family, even the ones who didn’t deserve her generosity.

      Mariella’s gaze lowered, as if she felt guilty for taking him in. Perhaps it had cost his mother to lose him, but he didn’t care. It was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

      “We should finish our conversation,” Gabe said to Mariella.

      They weren’t in the middle of anything, but she got the message that it was an excuse to walk away. She nodded jerkily. “Let’s take it into my office.”

      “Wait. We have a problem,” Ana said, coming down a few more steps. “Reporters have been calling me. They want me to comment on the rumor the family is falling apart. That we’re broke. Is that true?”

      We?

      Gabe narrowed his eyes, skeptical. Ana was fishing, he was sure of it. He was tempted to tell her it was true, in hopes she would leave, but Mariella beat him to the punch.

      “None of your fucking business,” she muttered under her breath, surprising even him.

      “What was that, hermana?” Ana’s voice gurgled with glee at getting her sister to curse. “Surely I didn’t hear your pretty mouth say such an ugly word?”

      Mariella turned back with vibes of hostility crackling like lightning bolts off her rod-straight body. “The state of the Marshall coffers is no concern of yours.”

      “Oh, I think it is. My son has a stake, therefore I do.”

      Gabe had more than a stake, but he only growled, “Leave me out of it.” If it came to a catfight—or worse—he would take Mariella’s side, every time.