Page 9 of Daddy Down Under

The man himself gave me a scrutinizing look when I returned, the fact that I was wearing my jacket again not escaping his notice. “Did you…?”

He made a gesture that was easy enough to interpret. Should I lie? But what was the point?

“No.”

“Hmm.”

Was that a good hmm or a bad one? Jesus fuck, why did it even matter?

“Maybe I miscalculated,” Ocean said.

I swallowed. “In what way?”

He gave me another thorough inspection. “It doesn’t matter.”

“If it doesn’t matter, why bring it up in the first place?” I felt irritated, like I had sandpaper scraping against my skin, but from the inside. Wrong, that was how I felt, and I didn’t like it at all.

“Do you want me to find my original seat?”

“No.”

At least one question that was easy to answer.

“You seem irritated by me.”

“Iamirritated. Doesn’t mean you’re the cause.”

Another thoughtful hmm. “You’re so hard to read.”

“So you told me.”

“It’s throwing me off my game. I thought I had you pegged, but something’s changed, and now I’m flying blind again.”

“What game? And why is it so important for you to know what I’m thinking or feeling?”

“You look tired,” he said as if it was a normal segue. He was giving me the mental equivalent of a whiplash.

“I did just fly to Australia from New York, so excuse me for not looking fresh.”

He frowned. “Today? You flew in today?”

“Today, yesterday, who the fuck knows with that crazy time difference?”

“Why didn’t you fly private?”

“How do you know that’s what I usually do?”

He rolled his eyes. “I know your net worth. There’s no way in hell you’re used to flying commercial.”

“And yet you are, and all the way back in economy, so what’s the story there?”

Ocean’s face tightened, sadness filling his eyes, and Jesus, I would do anything to take my words back and not make him feel this way.

“My father, or as I prefer to call him, The Bastard, cut me off.”

What? He couldn’t be serious. Why would Preston cut off his one and only son, his heir? “Why?”

“You know why.”

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