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“Do you have any positive memories of him? Of any time the two of you may have spent together?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw and several moments passed where Dani wondered if she’d made a mistake by wading into familial waters with no clue of their depths.
But then he said, “My father was athletic and participated in many sporting events, and he’d collected numerous trophies. There was this one polo trophy that I’d always liked and when he wasn’t home, I would sneak into his office, where I wasn’t allowed, and pretend it was mine. One day, I was playing around, imagining I’d beat out Adolfo Cambiaso, when he caught me. I was so startled that it slipped from my grasp and crashed on the floor. The topper broke off. I knew he was going to be angry.”
Dani marveled at this tiny glimpse into Jay’s childhood. “And was he?”
“No. He said, ‘You can get your own. I’ll show you how.’”
A slight smile curved his lips and this time, his tall frame was relaxed when he glanced at his father on canvas.
“He was home for a month, and we spent every afternoon together. He taught me how to play the game and to love it as much as he did.”
She moved closer and stroked his arm. “And did you win your own trophy?”
“The following season I won the junior club championship.”
“Do you still play polo?”
There was a twinkle in his eyes. “Occasionally.”
Her breath quickened. “I want you to know I find that incredibly sexy. Those tight shirts and britches.” She smoothed a hand along her sleek hairdo and peered up at him from beneath her lashes. “You’ll have to wear your uniform for me sometime.”
“I will, if you promise you’ll ride me like I’m your personal stallion,” he murmured in her ear, his voice, scent, and nearness causing her nipples to bead against the bodice of her dress.
But when he straightened, he looked stricken.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve spent years suppressing those memories, as if remembering the good times betrayed my mother.”
Dani could definitely co-sign having conflicting feelings about one’s family. “Nana used to say very few people are all good or all bad.”
“Do the Nana sayings ever end?” he murmured, his tone scornful.
Dani raised her brows. “I get that seeing this portrait and talking about your father may have you feeling some kind of way, but don’t take that out on me. And don’t fucking insult my Nana.”
If he wanted to be in a mood, she’d let him.
Alone.
She walked away but he grabbed her hand, halting her. “Dani. Love. I’m sorry.”
She instantly forgave him, smoothing the frown from his face. “I know how you feel about him and how much hurt he caused you and Calanthe. But you’re not your father. Thanks to your mother and your grandfather, you turned out different. Your father is still a part of you but you can take the positives from him and let his negatives guide you to make better choices.”
His gaze heated her blood. “I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you in my life.”
Leaning into him, she pressed her lips to his, offering all the adoration, affection, and comfort she had to give. She loved this man. Loved his vulnerability and the way he didn’t play games or hold back how much he lovedher. He gathered her close, accepting the care.
When they broke apart she realized the room had gone quiet. She peeked around his large frame to find all eyes on them.
Dani’s first concern was Jameson, but she had a job to do. She didn’t know how often she’d be able to convince Jameson to let her accompany him, so she needed to make each event count. She needed to give the media what they wanted, so she could get what she rightfully deserved. And if that meant smizing and booty tooching her way through this exhibit, to get the photos that sold the fairy tale, then that’s what she was going to do.
And she couldn’t shake the feeling that securing this contract might be more important than she’d initially anticipated. She hadn’t made a decision one way or the other as to her music career, and she liked having the option available. But Cash appeared to be going out of his way to poison that well for her. First, he trash-talked her during hisBrunch Bunchinterview, and then she’d missed Da Real’s party. She’d played it off, saying she’d forgottenabout it and that was true. Only because she hadn’t received an invitation. If she had she would’ve remembered. She’d even checked with Tasha. She’d been invited every year for the past five years. Why not this one?
“I need a moment,” he said, for her ears only.
“Of course.” She darted a look to her right, confirmed the media and photographers were still watching, and patted his chest, right over his heart.
