Page 82 of Crossing the Line
Reading her mind, Xavier gave her a discreet smile.
“Darling, your father and I are going ashore on Ios tomorrow for a little shopping. Will you come?” Sylvia asked hopefully.
Waverly glanced at Xavier, who gave a subtle shake of his head. She figured there was no way he was letting her off this yacht without an army before they flew out for her London premiere.
“I think I’ll stay behind. The jet lag is bound to catch up with me tomorrow,” Waverly told her. Sylvia’s face crumbled.
“But if you’re shopping, maybe you could find something for me?” Waverly asked.
“Of course!” Her mother was cheerful again. She loved to buy gifts, the sillier the better, and was actually quite thoughtful about it. “What would you like?”
“Something that you see, and it makes you think of me,” Waverly decided.
“Oh, what fun!” Sylvia clapped her hands together. She’d gotten a little sun today but not enough to change her ivory complexion to pink. Waverly watched as her father put one of his hands over his wife’s and brought it to his lips.
The last time she’d witnessed any kind of physical affection between them was… most likely on the red carpet. Just for show. What had begun as a red-hot love affair had morphed into a never-ending volatile argument and then, in recent years, an icy indifference as they’d each floated along sharing the same space, the same town, the same job.
Maybe a family vacation would be the beginning of a newer, healthier relationship between the Sinners?
Waverly’s short-term hope vanished when Sylvia handed over her empty martini glass to Talia, a tall, lithe woman with dark hair and eyes. Both her parents’ vices in one package. A talented bartender for her mother and a beautiful young woman for her father. Waverly prayed her father wouldn’t pursue anything there. He had a weakness, and she worried that Talia’s exotic olive skin would be too much for him to resist while Sylvia drank herself to unconsciousness.
“Oh! Did I mention that the chef has fresh baklava for dessert tonight?” Sylvia asked the table brightly.
Waverly perked back up.
“None for you, sweetheart. That premiere dress has zero give in it,” Sylvia said wagging a finger at Waverly.
“Thanks for always watching out for my dresses, Mom,” Waverly grumbled.
“You’ll thank me when you see the pictures and no one is speculating that you’re pregnant.”
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Depressed after watching everyone else fork up delicious, air-thin layers of baklava, Waverly excused herself early for bed. Her mother was already slurring, and for once, she was determined to not be the caretaker.
She kicked off her sandals and flopped back onto the bed. She’d change out of her dress in a few minutes. She just wanted to lay in the quiet now.
The tired was setting in. She felt it like a fog in the brain, a heaviness in her limbs. It was hard to believe that she’d run halfway around the world just to avoid a man. A dangerous one, of course, but still just one human being had the power to keep her locked in a cage.
At least it was a luxurious, floating cage.
There was a quiet knock on her door. One rap followed by two short knocks.
“Come in,” she said without bothering to sit up.
The door opened, and she lolled her head to look at Xavier.
“Do all you Invictus people knock the same way?” she asked.
“What way?”
She rapped her knuckles on the teak nightstand.
He gave her a crooked smile. “It’s just another little layer of security. That way you always know it’s Invictus knocking.”
“Smart,” Waverly yawned.
He stayed in the doorway.
