LITMIR.BIZ

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a vague sense of being enveloped in soft arms and being showered with butterfly kisses. Sometimes, as a child, she’d come in here and curl up on a chair with her eyes shut tight—trying to gain a sense of the woman who’d borne her. But try as she might, she had never felt any more than that elusive memory.

      Her hand hovered over the brass doorknob until with a sudden resolution, she closed her fingers around the cold metal and gave it a twist. The door swung open before her revealing a room unchanged from the last time she’d seen it.

      The chaise longue still resided in front of the French doors that opened onto the wraparound veranda. The side tables and comfortable furniture she remembered as far back as her childhood were all still there.

      She sniffed the air carefully. No, not a hint of hospital or illness, or death, remained. It was as if her father had never been in here at all.

      A solid lump of grief built in her throat as she stepped back and closed the door again. She desperately wanted some connection with him. Some proof that despite everything he’d still loved her.

      Noises from the kitchen at the back of the house reminded her that Dexter and his wife were hard at work cleaning up after her father’s wake. She should go to them. Offer to help. But the need to be alone with her thoughts was stronger. She turned and made her way back along the hallway and then up the stairs that led to the bedrooms on the next floor.

      Rex’s room had been at the opposite side of the house from hers. When her mother had died when Piper was three, he’d hired a nanny who’d slept in the room next to hers. But he’d kept his distance for many years, physically, emotionally and socially. It was only when she’d begun to bring certificates of achievement home from school that he’d really begun to acknowledge her existence, spurring her to do better, reach higher—whatever it took to garner his approval.

      But that approval was always short-lived as his work took the bulk of his attention. She’d always wanted for him to see her as more than a child to be spoiled, her every whim indulged. She’d wanted him to acknowledge that she had a brain, that she could achieve, even that she might be worthy one day of working with him in the family business as he would have expected a son to do. Instead, no matter how high she flew academically, it was as if her achievements never really mattered to him. After that, behaving like the spoiled little princess he expected had become second nature—in fact, she’d almost turned it into an art form. For all the good it did her.

      Piper bypassed her own room and headed toward the rooms that had been his. The door to his suite was open. She stepped into her father’s domain and was instantly enveloped by his personality. The room was neat and tidy, typical of the ordered way he’d liked things, but here and there were the memories she’d always associated with him. The books he had loved to read, the sweets he had kept in a porcelain jar beside the bed for “just in case.”

      Pulling open his wardrobe, Piper was assailed with the faint reminder of the cologne he’d always worn. She reached for the dressing gown that hung on the hook on the back of the door and dragged it to her, burying her face in the velvet softness of the fabric and inhaling deeply.

      “Is everything okay?”

      She spun around to see Wade framed in the doorway, the light from the hall behind him, leaving his face in shadow. He looked as if he was in the process of getting undressed. Gone were his jacket and tie. His shirt buttons were now open halfway down his chest, his shirt untucked from the sharply creased trousers that encased his long legs, the cuffs undone and loose around his strong wrists.

      Longing for what-might-have-been hit her in a surge of confused emotion. She shook her head slightly, trying to dislodge the sensations that clouded her mind. Comfort. She craved comfort, that most basic of needs. But she could no more ask that of Wade than she could ask for the moon, not after what had happened between them. Not when she still had so much making up to do. So much to prove—to him and to herself.

      “I’m fine. Just …” What? It was impossible to put into words. Instead she settled for the benign. “I miss him. Why didn’t he give me the chance to come back earlier and say goodbye?”

      In the doorway, Wade shifted on his feet. She sensed there was more he wanted to say but that he was holding back.

      “Like I said before, he didn’t want you to have to go through it all. To have to watch him deteriorate. Maybe it was a bit of pride, too, wanting you to remember him as he was when you left rather than when he was so ill.”

      “He never really expected me to come back, did he?”

      Wade shook his head slightly. “No, I don’t think he ever did. Didn’t stop him wanting you here, though.”

      The light from the hall shone into the room, bathing Piper in a stream of golden light. She looked so vulnerable there, holding her father’s robe to her as if it was some form of security blanket. As if it was the last remaining thing she had left in the world. Well, truth be told, it pretty much was. Still, she didn’t need to know that now. Time enough for that. Even he could see she was struggling with the reality of Rex’s death. Hell, he’d been here, through it all, and he still struggled.

      He clamped down on the sympathy that came as naturally to him as breathing. The past few days he’d doled out his fair share to Rex’s friends and business associates. Offering solace to Piper should have been just one more drop in the bucket. But, he reminded himself, she’d made choices that made it difficult to dredge up any consolation for her. One choice in particular he could never forgive was that she’d chosen to end the life they’d created together before he’d ever known it had existed. He’d sworn she’d pay dearly for that choice. She owed him now in ways she couldn’t begin to imagine.

      Even with that mental reminder, his hands itched to reach out to her, to touch her, comfort her. He’d been so in love with her once, and as angry as he still was with Piper, those old instincts dominated. Wade curled his hands into fists and thrust them inside his trouser pockets lest he give into them. He had no doubt she’d take what he offered—before throwing it right back in his face all over again.

      She’d made it monumentally clear during their last bitter and very final argument, before she went overseas, that she needed nothing from him. Even her demeanor downstairs when she’d joined him in the library had been targeted to make him feel inferior, an outsider.

      He leaned against the doorjamb, marshaling his thoughts and reminding himself that her vulnerability was little more than a facade. Piper Mitchell was more than capable of handling herself in any situation. She’d suckered him in once before and he’d vowed he would not be a fool twice over her.

      He shook his head slightly to clear his mind of the errant thought. He’d been under a lot of pressure. That was all. He just needed time to get his bearings again, to sort through what still needed to be done about Rex’s estate and to put a lid on his grief until it no longer had the capacity to render him weak, or open to confusing thoughts about Piper.

      Wade cleared the thickness in his throat and took one hand from his pocket and gestured toward the room.

      “I’ve been charged with clearing out your father’s things. Do you want to help with that?”

      She nodded, a mere incline of her head. The action typical Piper, too wrapped up in her own thoughts to give anyone her full attention. But in the gloom he heard a noise that sounded suspiciously like a choked sob.

      “Look, it’s been a tough day,” he continued. “Why don’t you head off to bed? There’s no hurry with your dad’s things.”

      “Okay, but don’t get rid of anything before I can see it.”

      Ah, so despite that faint wobble in her voice she was back to giving orders. That hadn’t taken long. “Sure,” he said, denuding his voice of its last threads of empathy. “By the way, I have an appointment with Rex’s lawyers in the morning for the official reading of the will—you should come along. I’m already conversant with its contents but you should probably take the opportunity to find out exactly how you’re placed.”

      She

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