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She was homesick for an idea.
The world called Zach reckless, a risk taker with a golden touch, but it was a lie. He never risked anything he was not willing to lose. Money was not important to him in itself. Lose a fortune, make a fortune—these were not things that would ever keep him awake. They were challenges, a test of mental agility.
Truerecklessness was what she possessed. It was the open-hearted way she ran towards the possibility of family and love, risking having her illusions shattered.
Zach admired it, and it appalled him.
Was he team Alekis? No, but neither was he the objective observer he wanted to be. Somehow this woman had awoken a protective instinct in him. He didn’t want to feel this way as he watched her cover the space between her and the old man, before dropping with graceful spontaneity to her knees beside the chair.
He turned abruptly and left, reminding himself that he was not part of this drama as he stepped into the elevator, pushing away feelings he didn’t want to name, let alone feel.
* * *
Part of Kat didn’t want to let go of her anger: it felt like a betrayal to her mother, but it had gone, burned away in that explosion of feeling. She’d practised her cold words but how could she be mean when he looked so frail and sounded so tearfully penitent? Though she got a glimpse of the iron man who people feared when he imperiously waved away someone who appeared to check his blood pressure.
A moment later the first man came back with reinforcements. Several nurses in uniform and the dapper figure in the three-piece suit did not react to the scowl directed at him.
‘I really must insist. These readings...’
For the first time, Kat realised that there were leads trailing under her grandfather’s suit, which were presumably giving readings in the connecting room.
‘All right—all right!’
Kat wondered if his capitulation had anything to do with the beads of sweat along his upper lip when he caught her hand.
‘As I was saying, it is a small gathering. Nothing too formal, drinks and mingling...’
Saying?she thought, playing catch up. She couldn’t recall him saying anything about a gathering,but then the short, emotionally charged conversation was a bit of a blur.
‘A small press presence...’
Her heart started to pound and she felt sick.
‘Don’t worry, they are friendly, all invited. One of the advantages of owning an island is that it is easier to keep out undesirable guests.’ The claw-like hand tightened on her own, crushing her fingers. ‘You’re an Azaria, you’ll be fine.’
The medics closed in, wielding scary-looking syringes, and she backed away, unable to tell him that she wasn’t an Azaria and she didn’t fit into this life.
As she walked into the lift, the feeling of sick unease in the pit of her stomach grew. What had she just agreed to? Had she agreed to anything? She didn’t want to go to a gathering, whatever that meant, formal or otherwise.
As the lift doors opened, Zach peeled himself away from the wall he had been leaning against and stood there, hands in his pockets, looking at her.
‘You look like you need a drink.’ And maybe a hug? He banished the aberrant thought. He was not a huggy person, and with Kat hugs would not stay comforting for long. His long fingers flexed as he saw the image in his head of them sliding under that top and over her warm skin.
‘I’d prefer a few explanations. Gathering? Press?’
‘Ah.’
‘So you know what this is about?’ She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or resentful.
‘Basically we are talking cocktail party. Alekis invites a few tame journalists a few times a year, lets them mingle with what is actually quite an eclectic bunch—’
Her voice, shrill with panic, cut across him. ‘I can’t mingle.’
He didn’t look impressed. ‘Rubbish. Here’s the car now.’
She shook her head. ‘No. I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what is going on.’
‘We need to control the flow of information. Denying rumours will only—’
