Page 3 of Kyle
"Sweetheart." His arms were spread wide to embrace her, and she stepped right in, inhaling the scent of his expensive cologne and combination of tobacco.
"How lucky I am to be graced with your presence." Stepping back, he held her at arm's length. "You look wonderful as usual. So beautiful."
Lifting a hand, he touched her cheek gently. "My smart girl."
Drawing her inside, he closed the door at their backs and tucked her hand through his arm. "You've stayed away too long."
"The company keeps me very busy." She clung to him, fingers digging into his black silk robe as they made their way into the sumptuously decorated living room where a fire was glowing inside the hearth. Thick silver carpet embraced their feet to the ankles. The apartment was a gift and a bribe from his father.
William Ryder had laid down his laws. As long as his son walked the straight and narrow without causing a scandal, he was free to enjoy the benefits of being a Ryder.
"What can I get you?" he asked after nudging her into one of the plush tan leather sofas facing the fireplace. "I was just about to indulge in an after-dinner drink myself."
"Nothing for me, but don't let me stop you." She had to steel herself not to comment on the powdery substance still visible on the Queen Anne center table. He had obviously tried to clean up after himself but had not succeeded in getting rid of all of it. Even if he had, she would still have known he had been using.
He would call it recreational drugs, but they all knew he was just kidding himself.
"Scotch." He grinned at her over his shoulder as he poured two fingers. "Sure you don't want anything?" He walked back to sit next to her, one hand rubbing her knee affectionately. "There's roast beef in the warmer. The housekeeper prepared more than enough."
"I'm fine, Dad." Turning sideways, she took in the slightly broken capillaries and the bloodshot eyes and realized she was going to have to pour coffee into him to prepare him for the meeting.
She hesitated, then softened her tone. "I'm not here for the food, Dad. I need to talk to you about something important." Her words hung between them, mingling with the quiet crackle of the fire and the clinking of ice in his glass.
For a moment, Jeremiah's easy smile faded, replaced by a flicker of awareness. He knew the routine, the way urgent conversations always started with small talk before turning serious.
"I've been summoned." He took a sip of his drink, and for a moment, there was a wistful expression on his handsome face. Her father was vain. Both her parents were and refused to age. Her mother had her monthly tucks and facials, and her father had his personal grooming done, which included visits to the expensive spa where he had work done and his hair colored an impossible black.
His well-manicured hand lifted to rub the back of his neck.
"I am a disappointment to the old man." He shrugged one elegant shoulder. "I have no ambition, and the thought of working sends me into a frantic spin." He glanced at his daughter, expression softening. "I'm proud of you."
Taking her hand in his, he lifted it to his mouth. "You're carrying on the Ryder legacy. Me?" He shrugged again. "I'm just here, taking up space."
"That's not true. You're essential."
His laugh was derisive. "Now, darling, you really don't believe that, and you're always honest. Brutally so." He squeezed her hand before letting go. "Should I be concerned?" he asked casually.
"I don't think so." She glanced at the powdery substance on the table again and shook off the despair.
"I've been on my best behavior." There was a trace of bitterness in his voice. "Doing what's required of me. I've even broken it off with Clarice."
"Oh, Daddy!" She reached over to close her hand over his. "I liked her."
"Father demanded that I stop seeing her. And you know how that goes. If the person does not meet his approval, then you're doomed." He turned his hand over and clutched hers. "I do sometimes wish I could stand up to the old bastard."
His gaze flickered to her face. "You're the only one who has."
"Just when it comes to business." She sighed. "I happen to know what I want and will even buck his authority when it comes to that."
"Do we have any idea what the meeting is all about?"
"None whatsoever." She kept the alarm off her face, knowing her father would pick up on it. "I just came from Matthew's. He's reluctantly agreed to be there."
"And how's the dear boy?"
Her eyes flashed fire at the question. Pulling her hand away, she rose and decided that she needed that drink after all. Pouring a finger of scotch, she turned to look at the man lounging with ease on the sofa. "Why don't you pick up the phone and ask him yourself?"
He shifted on the sofa and avoided her eyes. "He doesn't want to see me."
