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A slow nod. "Yeah."
Dylan rose. "I'll be right back."
Carson shut his eyes, deliberately conserving his strength for what lay ahead. It was bound to be a difficult meeting. He didn't delude himself. He never had, never would. No matter what Dylan said, this young woman must be completely thrown by what she'd learned. As for meeting him, she'd be curious, yeah, but she'd also be uncomfortable as hell. Why not? She didn't know him from Adam, yet he was being introduced as her father.
Christ, this was bizarre.
He opened his eyes as two sets of footsteps entered the room.
"Carson," Dylan said, stepping aside so the woman accompanying him could approach the bed. "This is Sabrina Radcliffe." He kept the introduction simple, avoiding any use of the word father. "Sabrina, Carson Brooks."
Sabrina. So that was his daughter's name. It suited her, too, he thought, studying her intently. Beautiful and classy.
Dylan was right. There was a resemblance. Her coloring
was the same as his, and there was a certain look about her—her chin, maybe, or the way she held her head—that she'd gotten from him. Dylan was also right that she was a knockout. She had a fineness and poise about h
er that screamed breeding, traits she'd obviously inherited from her mother.
He couldn't believe how choked up he was.
"Hello, Mr. Brooks." Her voice was steady, but her hand trembled as she extended it to him. "I'm glad you're up to seeing me."
He met her handshake solemnly, proud as hell that she had the guts to put up such a brave front. "I've wanted... to find out about you... to meet you... for a long time.... Thanks for coming."
She extricated her grip. "The doctor says you're holding your own."
"I'm too... tough to die... without a fight...." He gestured toward the chair. "Sit." He waited until she'd complied. "Dylan says... you're a management consultant...."
She nodded. "I own and run a company called the Center for Creative Thinking and Leadership. Companies send their management teams there for training."
Carson's brows lifted. "CCTL is you?... I just read up on it.... Top-notch reputation... Considered sending my team there... for brush-up. I'm... impressed."
Sabrina's lips curved slightly. It was a tight smile, but a smile nonetheless. "Given the source, I'm flattered. I've read about you, too. I'm familiar with Ruisseau's successes. Not only are you a corporate genius but you're personally involved in every facet of your company, a policy I think more CEOs should adopt. It's fitting that Ruisseau is named after you—albeit in French."
"Yeah, well, 'Ruisseau' has... an exotic, romantic... ring to it.... No one wants to buy... a perfume called 'brook.' Sounds like a drinking hole for trout..."
A flicker of amusement lurked behind the guarded veneer in her sharp blue eyes—his eyes. She had a definite sense of humor. But she wasn't ready to let down her defenses. Instead, she opted for another tight smile. "I see your point."
Enough about him. He didn't want to talk about his accomplishments. He wanted to hear about her. "Tell me... about your life... your mother.... She wanted to make... an exceptional child.... Obviously, she succeeded." He began to cough.
"Are you all right?" Sabrina half rose.
He waved away her concern. "Fine... But listening hurts less... than talking."
"Okay." She got the message and sat back down, considering what she wanted to say. "I don't know how much Dylan's told you."
"Not much," Dylan supplied. "Just your name and profession."
"He also said you... were a knockout...." Carson added. "He's right."
Sabrina shot Dylan a look that Carson couldn't quite make out. Wariness or discomfort, maybe, mixed with something else.
Whatever it was, Dylan picked up on it. "Do you want me to leave?" he asked.
"Not on my account," she replied. "Unless Mr. Brooks feels otherwise?" A quizzical glance at Carson.
He shook his head, waving Dylan toward a chair. "I have no secrets... from Dylan...." He wet his lips. "Sabrina... I know this situation's awkward... But call me Carson.... Mr. Brooks seems pretty ridiculous... under the circumstances...."
