lock and yanked the front door open.
The menacing shape of Rick Matisse loomed over her. He was clad completely in black. His shoulders were hunched and his fists were clenched, and his unshaven face was darkened with stubble and fury.
"Where is she?” he growled.
Georgina took a step back. “What are you talking about?"
He followed her in. When he lifted one of his big hands, Georgina thought at first he was going to strike her. Then she saw a crumpled sheet of paper clutched between his fingers. The paper rustled as he tightened his fist.
"Where is she?” he demanded once more.
"She's sleeping. In the bedroom. Over there.” Georgina's hand shook as she pointed. She lowered her arm quickly and steadied it against her side.
Rick pushed past her. She stared at his broad back as he disappeared down the hall.
"What's going on?” She ran after him, calling out to him, but it was like talking to a mountain. It was there, but it paid her no attention.
She caught up with him in the bedroom. He crouched by the bed, a figure as solid as the rocks that bordered the ocean. One of his big hands rose to gently stroke the sleeping girl's forehead. “Wake up, baby,” he whispered. “I've come to take you home."
Georgina stood in the doorway. She watched the pair of them, biting her lip to fight the ache inside her. The fear that had made her unsteady ebbed. It was replaced by envy, and then the envy was replaced with shame, because the pain was old, from her childhood, and it should have been spent a long time ago.
Andy stirred under the covers and whimpered. Then her eyes fluttered open and a sleepy smile spread over her face. “Dad,” she muttered, managing to cram that single word full of love.
"Are you okay, baby?” He glanced over his shoulder at Georgina. The venom carried in that brief look was so staggering it felt like a physical blow.
"Of course I'm okay,” Andy said. “What's up? How come you're home so soon?"
Rick turned to smile down at his child. He kept stroking Andy's brow. “It's half past three in the morning. Why are you not at Mrs. Donati's?"
"I wanted to stay with Georgina instead.” Andy peered at her father through her lashes.
Rick turned to throw Georgina another look over his shoulder. His black eyes were hard as flint. Georgina shivered, despite the stifling heat in the room.
"Andy told me that something came up and Mrs. Donati couldn't make it,” Georgina said, easing forward. It was her home. Rick's behavior needed explaining, and she'd get an explanation out him, even if it was the last thing she did.
"Baby, are you sure you're all right?” Rick crooned at his daughter. Although the words were gentle, an edge of menace sharpened the tone.
"I'm cool, Dad. Honest."
"Let me see what you're wearing.” Rick pulled up the covers and peered underneath.
"It's your black T-shirt,” Andy confessed. “I washed it. You can have it back tomorrow."
"All right.” Rick tucked the covers down.
"Andy was supposed to leave you a note,” Georgina told him.
"I've got it right here.” Rick held up the crumpled sheet of paper.
Georgina watched his fist clench around the note. From the corner of her eye, she caught a movement as Andy rolled over to her stomach and buried her face in the pillow.
"Baby, can you wait here while I talk to Georgina?” Rick asked his daughter. “Then I'll come and get you, and we'll go home."
Andy didn't lift her face from the pillow. “Sure, Dad.” Her voice came out muffled, and her shoulders heaved.
Rick straightened in a motion that made Georgina think of an uncoiling predator. He said nothing to her, but pointed silently to the door. When Georgina didn't move, he walked up to her and grabbed her arm. Ignoring her resistance, he pulled her into the living room.
"I think you owe me an explanation,” Georgina said.
"No.” Rick's voice was harsh. “ You owe me an explanation.” He pushed the crumpled note at her.
Georgina took it from his hand.
The menacing shape of Rick Matisse loomed over her. He was clad completely in black. His shoulders were hunched and his fists were clenched, and his unshaven face was darkened with stubble and fury.
"Where is she?” he growled.
Georgina took a step back. “What are you talking about?"
He followed her in. When he lifted one of his big hands, Georgina thought at first he was going to strike her. Then she saw a crumpled sheet of paper clutched between his fingers. The paper rustled as he tightened his fist.
"Where is she?” he demanded once more.
"She's sleeping. In the bedroom. Over there.” Georgina's hand shook as she pointed. She lowered her arm quickly and steadied it against her side.
Rick pushed past her. She stared at his broad back as he disappeared down the hall.
"What's going on?” She ran after him, calling out to him, but it was like talking to a mountain. It was there, but it paid her no attention.
She caught up with him in the bedroom. He crouched by the bed, a figure as solid as the rocks that bordered the ocean. One of his big hands rose to gently stroke the sleeping girl's forehead. “Wake up, baby,” he whispered. “I've come to take you home."
Georgina stood in the doorway. She watched the pair of them, biting her lip to fight the ache inside her. The fear that had made her unsteady ebbed. It was replaced by envy, and then the envy was replaced with shame, because the pain was old, from her childhood, and it should have been spent a long time ago.
Andy stirred under the covers and whimpered. Then her eyes fluttered open and a sleepy smile spread over her face. “Dad,” she muttered, managing to cram that single word full of love.
"Are you okay, baby?” He glanced over his shoulder at Georgina. The venom carried in that brief look was so staggering it felt like a physical blow.
"Of course I'm okay,” Andy said. “What's up? How come you're home so soon?"
Rick turned to smile down at his child. He kept stroking Andy's brow. “It's half past three in the morning. Why are you not at Mrs. Donati's?"
"I wanted to stay with Georgina instead.” Andy peered at her father through her lashes.
Rick turned to throw Georgina another look over his shoulder. His black eyes were hard as flint. Georgina shivered, despite the stifling heat in the room.
"Andy told me that something came up and Mrs. Donati couldn't make it,” Georgina said, easing forward. It was her home. Rick's behavior needed explaining, and she'd get an explanation out him, even if it was the last thing she did.
"Baby, are you sure you're all right?” Rick crooned at his daughter. Although the words were gentle, an edge of menace sharpened the tone.
"I'm cool, Dad. Honest."
"Let me see what you're wearing.” Rick pulled up the covers and peered underneath.
"It's your black T-shirt,” Andy confessed. “I washed it. You can have it back tomorrow."
"All right.” Rick tucked the covers down.
"Andy was supposed to leave you a note,” Georgina told him.
"I've got it right here.” Rick held up the crumpled sheet of paper.
Georgina watched his fist clench around the note. From the corner of her eye, she caught a movement as Andy rolled over to her stomach and buried her face in the pillow.
"Baby, can you wait here while I talk to Georgina?” Rick asked his daughter. “Then I'll come and get you, and we'll go home."
Andy didn't lift her face from the pillow. “Sure, Dad.” Her voice came out muffled, and her shoulders heaved.
Rick straightened in a motion that made Georgina think of an uncoiling predator. He said nothing to her, but pointed silently to the door. When Georgina didn't move, he walked up to her and grabbed her arm. Ignoring her resistance, he pulled her into the living room.
"I think you owe me an explanation,” Georgina said.
"No.” Rick's voice was harsh. “ You owe me an explanation.” He pushed the crumpled note at her.
Georgina took it from his hand.
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