Were they? She really was a hell of an actress, managing to look and sound sincere when it was obvious Nic was the furthest thing from happy.
Natalie kept her eyes downcast, but Demitri was so attuned to her, he could hear her silent screams for him to get them the hell out of here.
Excellent job of showing her how well he integrated with his family.
“Look, Rowan, if—” he started, but was interrupted by Nic’s return.
The ferocious bear had turned into a house pet while he was gone, judging from the doting tone of his voice as he carried his daughter into the lounge. “I want you to meet someone,” he told the petite girl wearing a stained T-shirt and turned up jeans over bare toes.
Demitri really looked at the girl for once. Not the obvious details like her dark hair and Asian features—she had been adopted from one of the war-torn countries Nic used to report on when he’d been a feet-on-the-ground journalist. No, Demitri looked at the protective way Nic held her. The connection between them, demonstrated by the way Evie’s arm curled around his neck and she gazed at him with utter trust.
If a hard case like this man could become a caring father to a child who’d had a rough start, surely there was hope for himself with Zoey?
“Who is it?” Evie asked, letting her gaze swing out to hit each of the adults, then tilt and fix on Zoey.
“Her name is Zoey. Uncle Demitri brought her to visit. Will you say hello?” He squatted so the girls were eye to eye.
“’Lo,” Evie murmured, pushing a finger into her shy smile. She took it out to point down the hall, then mentioned her cousin, Theo’s boy. “Zephyr’s nanny brought face paints. I’m gonna be a cat. What do you like to be?”
Zoey looked up at Natalie, eager as a retriever. “Can I be a butterfly?”
Natalie hesitated, thick lashes sweeping up like a scimitar to shave Demitri’s cheek, her flick of a smile telegraphing, If only adult interactions were so simple.
“Let’s ask the nanny,” Natalie said to Zoey, urging Evie to show them the way. “I’ll give her my number so she can phone me if you need me.”
Moments later, they reached the ballroom floor and exited the silent elevator behind Nic and Rowan. Demitri held back with Natalie, saying, “I’m sorry that was so...”
“Awkward?” Natalie prompted ruefully. “It’s fine. He probably doesn’t like secrets any more than you do.”
Demitri hadn’t thought of his request to Rowan as anything but trying to avoid pitting Nic against Theo and Adara on his behalf. Family relationships were bloody complicated.
Gripping Natalie’s hand in his, palm to palm, Demitri drew her to the entrance to the ballroom, where a full concert band played over the din of conversation.
Security stopped him at the door.
“They’re with us,” Nic said.
“I still have to report that you’re here,” the tuxedoed man said to Demitri, making clear exactly how wide the chasm was between him and his siblings.
“I’ll report myself,” he said, impatience edging into his tone. He tugged Natalie along behind him, into the throng.
They turned heads. Not just because he was moving so determinedly through the crowd, either. People recognized him. The explanations for his abrupt departure from the company would have made the gossip rounds in many forms, he was sure.
The startled reactions worked in his favor, however. Once people noted he was here, they craned their necks to catch the reaction of the host and hostess. It pointed him like a compass to the small knot of people opposite the banquet table.
Gideon saw him first, narrowing a piercing, hostile glare on him even as a minion slid in close to whisper in his ear.
“I can see that,” Gideon mouthed.
Demitri knew the moment Gideon identified his date. His demeanor changed from outright aggression to caution. He reached to his wife, getting her attention, excusing them from the group to step away and await them.
Adara looked up, started with recognition and then her posture softened in welcome.
Natalie tried to work her hand from his, and Demitri realized he was crushing her fine bones. He softened his hold but kept her hand, linking their fingers, recognizing that he’d always flaunted brassy, interchangeable women at these occasions to shield himself from deeper emotions.
Real emotions.
Natalie was a white flag. Bringing her was a statement that he cared about her. He was unarmed. Vulnerable.
It wasn’t a comfortable state. It was terrifying. If they rejected him, if they rejected them, he didn’t know what he’d do.
The minute he was in earshot of his sister, he said, “You didn’t deserve the way I treated you. I’m sorry.” Old pain threatened to catch up with him as so much of what he’d faced with Natalie’s help confronted him in the shadowed gaze of his sister.
Natalie’s hand stopped squirming in his, and her other one covered the back of his, sandwiching him in subtle reassurance. Giving him the strength to finish.
“I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday, Adara.” He reached forward with his free arm to catch his sister around the shoulders and draw her in, feeling her jerk in surprise that he would hug her, not having done so since they were both children. “If you’d rather I left, I will.”
“Of course I want you here,” she said after a stunned moment of surprise. Her arms went around him, hugging hard. She added shakily, “I’m so happy to see you, I’m going to cry.”
“We can’t have that,” he scoffed, drawing back, moved that she’d forgiven him so easily. Family. It really was a luxury not to be taken for granted. He clawed for lazy humor so emotion wouldn’t overwhelm him. “Your husband already wants to kill me for upsetting you. I’ll write a suitably remorseful check to the shelter. Will that make you smile?”
Adara laughed and swept fingertips under her eyes. Gideon’s expression mellowed, then flicked to Natalie and came back with one brow raised in question at Demitri. What are your intentions there? he seemed to ask.
“It’s nice to see you again, Natalie,” Adara said, pulling herself together to demonstrate her perfect manners.
Natalie’s covering fingers fell away from Demitri’s and her other hand went limp in his. She lifted a brave but pained smile to her hosts. “I’m glad to be here. I wanted to take this chance to—”
“Do not apologize,” Demitri warned her.
She flashed him a look of ire. “I can if I want.”
“That’s not why I brought you. And you know it,” he told her in a growl. They’d shared so much, become so much, it would insult both of them if she made apologies for how they’d come together.
“Humph,” she snorted, eyeing her fresh manicure of peach paint and glittering gold tips. “All those times you told me you weren’t the boss of me, turns out you think you are.”
“Really?” he challenged. “Take the blame, then. She cold-bloodedly seduced me for the sole purpose of destroying my career and hurting our family,” he said off-handedly.
“No, I—” She frowned crossly at him, but before she could clarify, he continued.
“I have to fix this one, Natalie. I have to.” It sucked. Royally. He hated it. But he was going to do it. She had to see that he was willing to go the distance.
“He’s used to being the one at fault, Natalie,” Gideon said, humor smooth and dry as always. “Let him have this.”
“Thanks,” Demitri muttered at his brother-in-law, finding the remark oddly heartening. Gideon wouldn’t be making light if he still wanted to kill him.
“Theo has seen you. Were you going to speak to him?” Adara asked with a pull of concern between her brows.
“Yes,” Demitri said firmly, setting a decisive hand on Natalie’s back to turn her toward his brother. “But we’ll come back. I want your opinion on my new venture,” he told Gideon, genuinely respectful of the man’s business acuity.
As they approached Theo and his wife, Jaya stepped forward to greet Natalie warmly. Jaya wore a lemon-yellow sari and her exotic looks were amplified by her husband’s flawless, ironed straight tuxedo.
“I’ve been anxious for a debriefing about the work in France,” Jaya said to Natalie. “We always promise we won’t talk shop at these things, but five minutes, Theo? Please? Can I be horribly clichéd and ask you to come to the ladies’ room with me while we talk, Natalie? I feel like I’m risking a wardrobe malfunction. I need to retuck.”
“Your wife has never liked me,” Demitri told Theo as Jaya made off with his moral support. It was probably for the best. Adara was soft and naturally forgiving. Theo’s kinship would not be so easy to regain. He didn’t relish Natalie watching him crash and burn.
But some said emulation was the sincerest form of flattery and Demitri wanted to emulate Theo. He would never be perfect the way Theo was, but somehow his withdrawn, reclusive brother had earned the devotion of a sweet, loving woman. Demitri needed to know how that was done.