wanted one exactly like Andrea.”
A daughter—
Lance’s mind had to do a complete thought reversal. Suddenly certain things seemed clear, like his father allowing her to stay in the green room. He’d never offered it to anyone else, not even Corinne.
“She has your mother’s kindness,” his father continued, unaware of Lance’s shock. “It’s a very rare trait.”
So rare in fact that Lance hadn’t seen any evidence of it during their fiery exchange in the kitchen before his baser instincts had taken over to punish her for something she hadn’t done.
In any case he’d had no right in behaving like a brute.
“As soon as she flies back, she’s going to have it published as a special tribute to him. Now that you’re home, maybe you would show her some significant spots only you and I know about? Since her arrival, I’ve been too sick to accompany her.”
Lance lowered his head, massaging the knotted muscles at the back of his neck. Considering the reprehensible way he’d treated his father’s guest up to this point, he doubted she’d speak to him again, let alone be amenable to spending any time with him.
What in the hell had caused him to react so violently to Andrea Fallon? He’d met plenty of women in his life more beautiful and exotic. Bile rose in his throat when he remembered one in particular…
Mrs. Fallon had said she’d been given permission to be on the property. When she’d first looked at him with that haunted expression as if she were miles away, why hadn’t he recognized it as grief and believed her?
How in the devil could he explain his behavior in the kitchen when he didn’t understand it himself?
He didn’t really think his father would get involved with a woman that young, so what was the underlying emotion driving Lance’s cruelty toward an innocent guest? It seemed he’d completely misread Henri’s comment.
Obviously he’d become so hardened with life, he was more out of touch with civilized society than he realized. Apparently he was no longer fit to rejoin the world his father inhabited.
He got up from the chair. “Papa? I’ve got some things to do, but I’ll be back.”
Lance needed to speak to Andrea before she went to bed. It was time to pick up the pieces if it wasn’t already too late. Something told him if he didn’t, she might well be gone from the premises before morning. That was one thing he didn’t want on his conscience.
“Go ahead, mon fils. I’ll wait for you.”
“Try to sleep.”
“I think I can now that I know you’re going to be a permanent fixture around here. Corinne will be overjoyed when she returns from her trip and realizes you’re home for good.”
Lance looked down at his father who was too ill to deal with anything unpleasant. But the moment he improved, the truth would have to come out.
Percy followed Lance as far as the door but no further. The dog didn’t appear to have much use for him. Lance didn’t blame him for preferring his father’s company to Lance whose nature seemed to have been inexplicably vile in the face of innocent provocation.
After going to his suite for the camera, he took the steps two at a time to the third floor and listened outside Andrea’s room for signs of life. Even if she were in bed, he couldn’t let any more time go by without attempting to repair some of the damage.
He rapped on the heavy door with the back of his knuckles. “Andrea? It’s Lance. I have to talk to you. If you need to get dressed first, I’ll wait.”
In a minute he heard, “Should I decide not to open it, will you take a battering ram to the door?”
No one deserved that remark more than he did.
“You’re someone my father cares for very much. I’ve come to apologize.”
After a long silence, “Apology accepted.”
That was too easy. “Enough to open the door?”
“Surely it isn’t necessary.”
He folded his arms. “I presume you don’t want me to see the suitcase you’re packing. If your departure is too precipitous, my father will never forgive me. Since I’m already in the doghouse, as you Americans say, you wouldn’t wish to add to my punishment, would you?”
“The doghouse would be too good for you.”
His lips twitched. Kind as his father made her out to be, she had spirit. “You’re right. I don’t suppose you’d believe I’m suffering from posttraumatic shock syndrome—”
“I believe it, but you’ve taken it to new depths. You’re more like your alter ego than I’d realized.”
“You mean one day I’ll join Lancelot in Hell?”
“If the armor fits.”
“How do you know I haven’t already been there?”
“I surmised as much. Only someone who’s been in hell would treat me the way you have.”
Her arrow found its mark dead center. His amusement vanished. “Is there no redemption?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”
He drew in a ragged breath. “I’m leaving your camera outside this door. If you choose to stay a little longer, I swear on my mother’s grave no harm will come to you from me.”
After a short silence, “Since I know how much your father loved her, I’ll take that into consideration.”
She knew how to deliver the coup de grâce. There were many sides to Andrea Fallon. She was the most dangerous kind of female.
“I’m sorry about your husband. I didn’t know.”
“I thought Lancelot was given special powers.”
He closed his eyes tightly for a moment. “I’ve done too many dark deeds and have forfeited most of them.”
“How sad.”
She sounded as if she meant it. It was then he realized he’d given too much away, a position he loathed to be in.
“I’m leaving now to spend the night with Papa. Don’t let my uncourteous behavior prevent you from making him happy. Should you disappear without explanation, I can’t promise he won’t go downhill.”
Much as he was hoping she’d relent enough to open the door so they could talk face-to-face, he had a gut feeling it wasn’t going to happen. He’d behaved like a bastard and was reaping the consequences.
“Dors bien, Andrea,” his voice rasped before he turned away and made a swift return to the second floor.
Disturbed by the memory of the way she’d felt in his arms when he’d kissed her, he realized it was going to be a long night…
Delighted by the morning sun that pierced the clouds and filtered down through the cathedral of trees, Andrea made her way to the opposite end of the lake from where she’d been reading the previous evening.
Maybe she would get lucky and one of the forest animals following an ancient game trail to the water’s edge would enter the site where she planned to take pictures.
After a good night’s sleep, which came as a surprise considering her tormented state of mind last evening, she realized the worst thing she could do was run away. Geoff wouldn’t understand. Since she couldn’t explain it herself, she’d decided to put yesterday’s experience behind her and behave like an adult.
Lance had proved to be a man with a scarred soul. Using the most elemental of ways, he’d set out to expose her for the loose, conniving female he believed her to be.
Where