Before she could press him about it, Pretorius’s voice erupted from hidden speakers. “Justice, who are those people in the kitchen?” He sounded almost frantic. “They’re doing things in there. You need to stop them. Now.”
“Take it easy,” Justice replied. “I’ll deal with it.”
“You’ll make them leave?”
“I’ll deal with it.”
At a guess, probably not the answer his uncle was looking for. “Cut communication,” Justice ordered. He took a second to lock gazes with her. “This isn’t over.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “You’re just figuring that out? Well, let’s see if I can put this in terms that your computer-like brain will process …” She fisted her hand in his shirt and yanked until they were practically nose-to-nose. “I’ve known it wasn’t over between us for nineteen months and twenty-five days. You didn’t manage to figure it out until ten days ago and only when I showed up here to draw you a picture. Try to keep up from this point forward, okay?”
With that, she released him and swept from the room, though she could have sworn she heard a snort of laughter. Must have been the wind. Lord knew, it couldn’t have been Justice. Together they returned to the kitchen … and walked in on sheer chaos.
“Son of a—”
She elbowed him. “Condition One alert.”
“Look at what they’ve done to my kitchen!”
She couldn’t blame him for being upset. She would have been, if it had been her home. Aggie had pulled everything out of the huge, walk-in pantry and stacked the contents on every available surface. A bucket of hot soapy water rested on the floor while she swabbed every shelf and cubbyhole.
Jett sat with her back to the doorway, earbuds plugged in and no doubt rocking out music at full blast. She pounded away at her laptop. Next to the laptop sat the cat, Kit, the other half of the inspiration for Daisy’s storybook creations. She’d been freed from her carrier and reclined on the table, busily grooming herself, accepting the craziness around her with her usual equanimity. A computer’s disembodied voice gave incomprehensible updates in a hiccupping voice, competing with Pretorius’s shouted demands, demands that were interspaced with some truly creative obscenities.
And then there was Noelle. Daisy sighed.
All of the cupboard doors stood ajar. And her precious daughter sat buck naked in the middle of the floor surrounded by articles of baby clothing, along with every last pot and pan the kitchen possessed. She busily banged lids against pots adding to the noise level.
For an instant, Daisy thought Justice would explode. “Computer, disengage!”
“Disengaged.”
Abruptly, silence reigned. Noelle paused in her banging, Jett in her typing. Aggie poked her head out of the pantry. One look at Justice and she flinched, knocking over her bucket of soapy water. It swirled in an ever-expanding puddle of suds heading toward Noelle.
Jett’s fingers hovered over her laptop, mid-keystroke and her head jerked around. Her inky dark eyes widened in dismay when she saw Justice standing there. “Uh-oh.”
Daisy hastened to pluck her daughter off the floor before the surge of dirty water reached her. “Darn it, Jett. You promised to behave.”
Jett cleared her throat. “Actually, I didn’t. You told me to. But since I didn’t answer, technically I didn’t promise anything.”
“How many times have I warned you not to get technical with me?”
“Nineteen hundred and fifty-two.”
“Enough!” Justice broke in, glaring around the room. “Someone tell me what the bloody hell is going on and I mean now.”
Noelle beamed from the safety of her mother’s arms and spoke her very first words to her father. “Hell!” she said, clear as a bell.
Daisy groaned. “Oh, that’s just great. Which part of Condition One didn’t you understand?”
“I possess perfect comprehension. This, however—” He swept his arm in a wide arc to encompass the disaster that had previously been his kitchen. “This defies even my ability to comprehend. But it’s not beyond my ability to correct. First things first.”
He waded through the water to the one drawer that had so far escaped Noelle’s detection and remained intact. He upended the stack of dishtowels it contained onto the floor. Then he crossed to Jett’s computer and with a few swift keystrokes disconnected her from his computer system.
“Full control returned to you, Pretorius.”
“They’re leaving now, right?”
“I’ll be down shortly to discuss it.”
“Discussing implies ‘not leaving.’ I don’t want to discuss.” A hint of panic crept into his voice. “I want them to leave.”
“Give me five minutes. Computer disengage.”
Then he turned his attention to his daughter and Daisy flinched. He’d allowed himself a quick look earlier, when they’d first arrived. A look, she didn’t doubt, that had just about destroyed him. At a guess, he hadn’t realized until that moment what sort of effect such a tiny human being could have on him. Well, he’d found out, and then some. He teetered on the edge of losing it, something she wouldn’t allow to happen in front of so many witnesses.
“Aggie?” Daisy murmured. “Why don’t you and Jett go on upstairs and pick out rooms.”
“Would you like me to fix you a cup of hot tea before I go?” She spared Justice a warm smile. “I consider it the perfect restorative. No matter how upset I am, hot tea always makes me feel better.”
“Later, perhaps.”
The housekeeper’s gaze shifted from Justice to Noelle and she gave a brisk nod of understanding. That quick comprehension was one of the qualities Daisy most admired about the former schoolteacher. Without another word, she gathered up Jett, and the two slipped from the room. Justice continued to stand, rooted in place, unable to take his eyes off his daughter. He started toward her and then hesitated. His usual forcefulness deserted him, exposing an unsettling vulnerability.
“May I?” he asked with painful formality.
Daisy swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “Of course. She’s your daughter, too.”
He approached Noelle and held out his hand. The move was so tentative and cautious it threatened to break Daisy’s heart. Noelle grabbed his hand with her usual impulsiveness and yanked it to her mouth for a taste. Not giving him time to withdraw, Daisy transferred their daughter from her own arms to his. And then she stepped back, watching a connection form that no computer interface could duplicate.
Ever so gently, Justice settled his daughter into his arms, cradling her as though she might shatter, his grip a trifle awkward. She responded by touching everything within reach. If she could grab it, it went into her mouth for a taste. If she couldn’t, her nimble fingers explored it as though attempting to discern how and why, where and what. And most important, whether she could take it apart.
“She’s beautiful,” he murmured.
“Thanks. I’d say it was the luck of the draw. Somehow I suspect you’d say something about the expression of genetic information and the role of dominant versus recessive versus blending genes,” she dared to tease.
He glanced up, his eyes glittering with a hunger that threatened to bring her to her knees. How quickly it happened, that unbreakable bond that connected hearts and souls, parent to child. She caught the stamp of possession. The want. And even more, the need.
“Actually, I was about to say that she takes after you,” he said.
Simple