Page 8 of Simon Says

Like a spoiled child, she’d wallowed in her sense of betrayal while doing exactly as she pleased despite her mother’s wishes. Thinking to herself, “She’ll be sorry,” she’d wanted her mother to regret her actions.

Oh, God. Her mother had been sorry all right. Sorry that she’d ever had a daughter.

Shoving to her feet, Dakota turned to face Barnaby. Despite the prickling of unease she got whenever in his presence, she wouldn’t cower from him. But she wasn’t dumb enough to let him linger at her back, either.

“So you think I owe you, and for that, you want me to find your son?”

“He’ll be easy to find,” Barnaby corrected. “What I need you to do is bring him to me.”

“Why?” Suspicions began niggling around her brain. “If you want to establish some rapport with your son, why don’t you just contact him yourself? Why send me?”

“I haven’t seen him in a lot of years. It would be awkward.” Hands stuffed into his pockets, Barnaby began circling her.

Dakota felt certain that restlessness didn’t drive him. No, he wanted to unsettle her, to rattle her. For that reason more than any other, she kept her pose lazy and relaxed. “I didn’t even know you had a son.”

He shrugged at that. “No reason you should.”

“How old is he?”

“Thirty, maybe thirty-one.”

“You don’t know?”

He scowled, and ignored the question. “He might not want to see me after all this time. But you…you could get in on his good side, convince him to have a meeting with me.”

Dakota watched him closely. He was up to something, but as usual with Barnaby, she didn’t know what. “How am I supposed to do that?”

His dark-eyed gaze took her measure, crawling over her from head to toe in a way meant to disgust her. “You’re a woman now, Dakota.”

At twenty-three, she agreed, but that wasn’t his point at all. “Yeah, so?”

“All women know how to sway men. I imagine you know better than most how to—”

Cutting off that tired insult, Dakota asked, “Why do you want to see him anyway?”

“It’s a personal matter, honey.”

Oh, that soft tone didn’t hide a thing. It had fooled her mother, but it wouldn’t fool her.

She shrugged. “Fine. Keep your secrets. It’s no skin off my nose.”

“Exactly.”

“But here’s a condition.”

Barnaby’s eyes narrowed. “You’re givingmeconditions?”

“Yes, and it’s nonnegotiable.” Dakota held his gaze. “Quit calling me ‘honey.’”

The corners of his mouth lifted in a dawning smile of satisfaction. “It bothers you? I can’t imagine why.”

“You’re sick.”

That made him laugh. “Such squeamishness from a girl who dances onstage?”

“I sing more than I dance.” And she was good, not that Barnaby would ever admit it.

“Rowdy songs meant to excite men. I know.” He looked at her legs. “Your mother hated that about you.”

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