Page 13 of Tamed

“No,” I said. “I’ll tell you who she was. Her name was Juliana Hamilton, only daughter of James Hamilton.”

Isabel stared at me, green eyes widening. “James Hamilton? You mean oftheHamiltons?”

“Yes. Your mother was his precious little princess, and he was extremely pissed when she married your father.”

Isabel blinked at me. “Married?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Had Ten not even told her that?

“Yes,” I repeated. “She and Ten married in secret just before you were born.”

Anger flickered over her vivid, expressive face, the flush in her cheeks making the bright green of her eyes even more pronounced. Little freckles dotted her cheeks and nose, making her look even more like her mother. Juliana had been a full-on redhead with a temper to match, and she’d brought Ten down like a ton of bricks.

I’d told him that getting involved with her was a mistake, that he didn’t know what he was getting himself into, but naturally he didn’t listen. He’d been pulled off the streets by Sir George, a certified hermit, who wouldn't have known who the Kennedys were let alone the Hamiltons, while I’d been rescued by Old Nick. And I say ‘rescued’ in the loosest possible sense.

Anyway, Ten had been a hotel valet, parking cars and carrying luggage, and had met Juliana in the hotel. It had been love at first sight. They’d been young and not very careful, and soon enough, she’d gotten pregnant. Ten, being an honorable bastard, had then married her on the sly. They hadn’t told anyone since her family would never have approved of their princess marrying a nobody one-time street rat, and then she’d died having Isabel.

When the Hamiltons eventually found out, they’d been incandescent with fury, and Ten had had to disappear with Isabel, otherwise a) they would have taken her from him and b) he’d possibly have been one of those bodies that get washed up on the banks of the Hudson. After the immediate threat had died down, she’d been brought up by a succession of nannies provided by Sir George, me — when I had the time — and by Ten whenever he could. Later, Atlas had helped out.

It had been a shitty upbringing, especially since a grief stricken Ten had refused to even mention Juliana’s name. I’d only met Juliana a few times. Gorgeous, but a real handful.

Just like her daughter.

Yeah, I had to admit that. On both counts.

“How wonderful,” Isabel said bitterly. “Be great if my father had ever given me even a little bit of my mother, but apparently that’s impossible. He’d much rather lock me in my bedroom, throw away the key, and keep on telling me sweet fuck all since that’s the obvious answer.”

“Your father was wrong not to tell you.” I had to give her that at least. “I tried to get him to talk to you about it, but he refused. Juliana is a sore subject for him.”

“Oddly enough, she’s a sore subject for me as well.” Isabel abruptly pushed herself out of the chair and walked over to the windows. Anger poured off her, and fuck, she had a right to it. I’d have been furious too if I’d been her.

“He’s not doing it to hurt you,” I said, because she needed to know that. “He’s got a whole lot of shit he needs to work through and sure, he’s made some mistakes. But he only wanted to protect you.”

“How? By keeping all information about Mom from me?” Isabel stared out the windows, her jawline set, looking every inch the stubborn teenager that I remembered who used to give me such shit.

But she’s not a teenager now, is she?

I found my gaze being drawn down along the lines of her body, her white blouse pulling tight across her breasts, the light shining just so, highlighting the hint of lace of her bra. Then the curve of her waist and hips in that tight little skirt… Pin-up worthy.

Definitely not a teenager. And you shouldn’t be fucking looking.

No. I should not. It wasn’t the right time, and she was the wrong fucking woman.

I shifted again in my seat, irritated. I’d gotten too consumed by work the past couple of weeks and hadn’t had much time to myself. Clearly that needed handling.

I didn’t usually take part in the auctions at Arcadia, but for the second time that day, I found myself reconsidering. God knew I had to get rid of this sudden itch somehow.

“He’s paranoid,” I said. “And to give him his due, he’s got good reason. The Hamiltons are dangerous. They were furious when Juliana died and then they found out that not only had she gotten married, but she’d also had a kid. Ten had to go into hiding with you.”

Isabel kept staring ferociously out the window, her figure still tense. “What would they have done to him if they’d caught him?”

“Don’t be naive. You know what they would have done.”

She turned, flashing me a glance. “So why didn’t Dad tell me about them? Why is keeping me in the dark protecting me?”

I had no desire to venture into that particular minefield, so I only shrugged. “You’ll have to ask him that. He wouldn’t tell me when I asked him.”

“So why are you telling me all of this then? Shouldn’t it be coming from him?”

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