‘Will she?’ Velvet asked shrilly. ‘Don’t you think she’s having to “get over” rather a lot lately? First her mother’s death, then Miss Roger’s accident, and now my apparent defection.’
‘And if she becomes attached to you, what then?’
‘I—We can cross that bridge when we get to it—if we get to it,’ she added pointedly.
‘We will,’ he sighed. ‘She likes you now, and very soon she’s going to love you. And when that happens …’
‘It may not.’
‘It will,’ he said with certainty. ‘And when it does we’re going to be in one hell of a mess.’
‘I think you’re exaggerating,’ Velvet said stubbornly.
‘Do you?’ his expression was glacial. ‘You’ll soon see I’m not. All right, Mrs Dale, pack a few things and come with us. But if you don’t like the way this situation develops, don’t blame me.’
‘I won’t,’ she answered vaguely, frowning. ‘Did you say pack a few things?’
‘I did,’ he nodded.
‘I—We’ll be staying overnight?’
‘We will.’
‘Oh, but I—I didn’t realise that,’ she groaned.
‘It takes almost four hours to get to Orlando from here,’ he explained patiently. ‘I intend driving up this afternoon, staying overnight at my hotel there, and then letting Vicki have all day at Disneyworld tomorrow. She can be sleeping in the back during our drive here in the evening. Changed your mind?’ he quirked a mocking eyebrow.
Velvet flushed her resentment. ‘No. Those arrangements will suit me just fine.’
‘All right,’ he sighed. ‘Just remember, it was your decision.’
‘I’ll remember,’ she snapped.
The look on Vicki’s face when they told her Velvet was going with them after all was all that she needed to tell her she had made the right decision. Trying to convince Paul and Carly that she was going merely for Vicki’s sake was something else. She gave up in the end, and hurried to her room to pack an overnight case.
Jerrard kept a Ferrari at the hotel, and Vicki was bouncing up and down on the back seat when Velvet met them outside later that afternoon.
‘You’ll sit in the front with me,’ Jerard instructed as she went to get in the back.
‘I would rather—’
‘In the front!’ He got out of the car to stow her case in the boot.
Velvet took advantage of his momentary absence to slip into the back beside Vicki, grinning conspiratorially at the little girl. Vicki grinned back, and her hand crept into Velvet’s.
Jerard’s face darkened as he turned in his seat to look at her. ‘Out!’ he ordered grimly.
‘But I—’
‘I said you were to sit in the front,’ he said coldly. ‘And that’s where you’ll sit.’
Velvet felt foolish getting out and then getting back in—to the front seat this time. She didn’t know why Jerard had to make such an issue about where she sat, she would have been infinitely more comfortable sitting beside Vicki. But maybe that was the idea; Jerard hadn’t exactly encouraged her to come on this trip with them, so perhaps he didn’t intend that she should be ‘comfortable’.
‘You’re getting a persecution complex,’ he remarked dryly as they set out on the long drive to Orlando.
She blinked up at him. ‘I—’
He gave her a sideways glance. ‘That was your idea, wasn’t it?’ he taunted.
‘I—No, of course not,’ she flushed.
‘Liar,’ he mocked. ‘Do you have more room in the front?’ he asked casually.
‘Yes. But—’
‘Point proved,’ he said dryly.
‘Daddy’s always right.’ Vicki sat forward to lean her arms on the back of their seats.
His mouth quirked with humour. ‘Not always, darling,’ he drawled.
‘Oh, but you are,’ she insisted guilelessly.
‘I wasn’t right about Velvet coming with us today.’
‘No,’ his daughter agreed slowly. ‘But I’m glad she has.’
‘So am I,’ Jerard said softly.
‘You are?’ Velvet looked at him sharply, searching for sarcasm in the hard planes of his face.
‘Of course,’ he taunted. ‘You can help keep Vicki occupied.’
‘I intended doing that anyway,’ she snapped resentfully. ‘That was the reason I sat in the back.’
He quirked one eyebrow. ‘Not to avoid being near me?’
‘Certainly not,’ she told him waspishly. ‘Why should I need to do that?’
He shrugged. ‘Why indeed?’
‘Don’t you like my daddy?’ Vicki asked innocently.
‘That isn’t the sort of question to ask anyone,’ her father told her sternly. ‘It isn’t polite.’
‘Why?’
‘It just isn’t.’
‘But why isn’t it?’
Jerard sighed. ‘We’ve had this conversation before, Vicki. Don’t keep answering a reply to a question with another one.’
‘Wh—Sorry. I just wondered if Velvet liked you, that was all,’ she said sulkily.
‘And I told you not to ask questions like that.’
‘I don’t mind,’ Velvet cut in. ‘Yes, I like your daddy, Vicki,’ and strangely enough she did, although she wished he would believe her about the past.
‘He likes you too, I can tell,’ Vicki said smugly.
‘Can you indeed, young lady?’ Jerard couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice.
‘Oh yes,’ she nodded seriously. ‘You’ve stopped pulling face—er—scowling at her.’
Velvet hadn’t noticed! She thought by the amused smirk on Jerard’s face that he hadn’t either.
‘Sit back, Vicki,’ he ordered, ‘and stop asking personal questions.’
His daughter pouted. ‘But I wanted to know about Velvet’s little boy.’
His expression hardened. ‘Maybe Velvet doesn’t want to talk about him.’
He didn’t want her to, that much was obvious. ‘I don’t mind,’ she answered abruptly. ‘I’ll talk to Vicki, Mr Daniels, while you concentrate on your driving.’
‘I can talk and drive at the same time,’ he rasped. ‘And last night you called me Jerard.’
‘And this morning you called me Mrs Dale,’ she reminded tautly.
‘So I did,’ he sighed. ‘Okay, this trip we’re Jerard and Velvet. All right?’
‘That’s fine by me.’ She turned away from him. ‘What did you want to know about Tony?’ Her voice softened as she spoke to Vicki.
‘Is that your little boy’s name?’ she asked eagerly.
‘Mm,’ she nodded, smiling.
‘How old is he?’
‘Just over a year.’
Vicki grinned. ‘I bet he’s cute.’
‘Well, I think so,’ she laughed.
‘Does he look like you?’
Velvet was aware of Jerard listening very closely to this conversation, and she did her best to ignore him, although it wasn’t easy. ‘Quite a bit,’ she nodded. ‘He has blond curly hair and huge brown eyes.’
‘Doesn’t he look anything like
