“This is more than a hotel,” she said. “This is your dad’s house.”

Kendra leaned forward and lowered her voice to a mock whisper. “He’s not my dad. He’s just sperm. I call him Dad because it’s easier for all of us to pretend, but there’s nothing between us. You’re really sweet to worry, but don’t. We’re fine.”

Lexi felt all the pain the teen hid behind her attitude. “Kendra, I know this is hard for you,” she began, only to have Kendra open the fridge, grab a soda and head for the door.

“What’s hard is that this isn’t a hotel and you’re not staff. If you were, I could fire your ass. Leave me alone.” With that, Kendra left.

Lexi turned to Cruz.

“That’s it?” she asked him. “That’s the end of the conversation?”

“I told you not to get involved. We’ve done this before.”

“Obviously badly.” Why didn’t he get it? “Cruz, she’s a child. Your child. You have a responsibility.”

“Which my accountant takes care of every month. Kendra has everything she needs.”

“Except a father.”

He barely flinched. “I didn’t need my dad around and she doesn’t, either. She’s doing fine.”

“She’s feeling like crap. You didn’t tell me about her, you didn’t tell anyone. There’s no food in the house. How does she get to and from school?”

“I don’t know. Her mother takes care of that.”

“You need to be involved.” She couldn’t comprehend his lack of connection. “Don’t you feel anything when she’s around?”

“Other than a burning need to be anywhere but here?” Now he was the one leaving. He paused in the doorway. “You’re putting way too much energy into this. She’s here for a couple of weeks, then she’ll be gone. Don’t worry about it.”

“She’s your daughter,” she murmured, knowing she wasn’t going to get through to him.

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“Because she’s a person. Why are you so determined to be a total asshole?”

His eyes darkened. “I guess it just comes naturally to me.”

He left and she was alone in the kitchen. Alone and feeling as if she’d made the situation worse at every possible turn. She leaned her elbows against the counter and covered her face with her hands.

What kind of man wrote a check and walked away? And even if she could understand a teenage boy not wanting the responsibility, Cruz was now a man. He didn’t have any excuses.

Lexi remembered growing up being ignored by her father. Jed had always been so busy. Any time he gave her was precious. She’d lived for those moments. Parents mattered, even when a child was old enough to know better. Lexi battled to prove herself to Jed. Skye had given up the love of her life to marry a man her father preferred. Izzy risked her life to prove something to herself and to Jed.

Why couldn’t Cruz see how he was hurting Kendra?

She straightened, then walked toward his study. He sat behind his desk, staring out a dark window.

“Cruz,” she began.

He looked at her. “What’s the big deal? She’s not your kid.”

“She’s a child, not a plant. You can’t just throw her a pizza and expect her to be all right.”

“She always has been in the past.” He stood. “Look, every couple of years she comes to stay here. When she was younger, I’d hire someone to stay with her, but she doesn’t need that now. She told me herself a few years ago. She does great. She comes and goes as she likes, we stay out of each other’s way. It’s enough.”

“It’s nothing. Doesn’t it occur to you that she wants more? She wants a connection. You’re her father. She needs you to love her and be there for her.”

“This is about me and Kendra, not you and Jed.”

“What a child needs is universal.”

“I didn’t need my father. Life was better when he was gone.”

“You’re not beating Kendra.” But was his father the point? Did Cruz want to make sure Kendra never thought of him the same way he’d thought of his dad? “She wants you to love her.”

“I barely know her and you don’t know her at all. Get off both of us.”

“I can’t.”

“You won’t. You’re the one who wants things to be different. But this isn’t your house, your kid or your business. So get the hell out of it.”

If he’d yelled, she could have yelled back. Instead his voice was quiet, almost scary with intensity.

She wasn’t going to win. Not tonight. And right now Kendra mattered more than him.

She left his study and went upstairs. Kendra was in the last bedroom on the left. The space was small but cheerful, with a full-size bed and desk by the window. Kendra sat at the desk, typing on a laptop while listening to her iPod. C.C. lay asleep on the bed.

Lexi knocked on the half-open door. “Hey. You getting settled?”

“Uh-huh.” Kendra didn’t bother looking up.

“I thought we could go into town and get something to eat. I know a great burger place.”

Kendra sighed heavily, then pulled the earbuds out. Her smile was placating at best.

“It’s really nice of you to try. I appreciate it. Seriously. But I’m good. I don’t need to bond with anyone, especially one of my dad’s girlfriends. It’s not like you’ll be here next time, right? I mean, is this permanent?”

Lexi thought about the deal, then shook her head.

“I thought so. Now you go run and play with my dad. I’ll stay out of your way and then I’ll be gone. In a few weeks, we can all forget this happened. Won’t that be great?”

Kendra reached for her iPod, then looked up again. “Oh, I ordered a pizza. Would you let the guy in when he rings the bell? Thanks. Bye.”

BY NINE-THIRTY Cruz was on his third glass of Scotch. He had no plans to get drunk, but he wanted to take the edge off.

The past crowded into the room, making it difficult for him to think about anything else. He didn’t even have to close his eyes to see his father beating his mother. Juanita was a small woman, and her husband had enjoyed hitting her until she collapsed to the ground and begged him to stop. For as long as he lived, Cruz would never forget the sound of fists on flesh and the shrill cries of pain.

“Tell me you love me,” his father would demand. “Say it. Say it!”

Eventually she would give in. She would speak the words, then say them louder, as he insisted. When she promised to love him forever, he would walk away.

Cruz remembered the silence. His mother made no noise as they both waited for the sound of the car engine, proof that the storm had passed and they were safe again.

Cruz would wait in the hallway, huddled and scared, until she dragged herself to her feet. She would tell him she was okay, even as she washed away the blood. His father had not only broken bones; he’d shattered her heart and her will, time and time again.

The last beating had seemed to go on forever. He’d been twelve-old enough to want to protect her. When he’d gone after his father, the old man had hit him hard across the face. So hard, Cruz had fallen, his ears ringing and his vision swimming.

“Do that again, boy,” his father had growled, “and I’ll kill her.”

In that moment, with his mother begging for both of them, with the steady thud of fists making her scream, Cruz had vowed everything would be different. He’d earned the money to buy a gun from a kid down the street, and he’d used it to make his father go away.

He knew it could be different. He knew that there were fathers who loved their children. Manny, his partner, was one. He adored his kids and they adored him. They did things together-like a family. They cuddled up on the sofa to watch TV. They went camping and to baseball games. When the kids were hurt or scared, they ran to him. It didn’t occur to them to think he might hit them. They didn’t know what it was to fear their father.

But Cruz knew. He knew the darkness that lurked, the pain that followed. He knew what it was like to be afraid to breathe for fear of being noticed. He knew what it meant to pretend not to see the bruises on his mother’s face and arms, to know she would conceal them from her employers so they wouldn’t ask questions…or worse, fire her.

He also knew he was just like his old man. Once, when Kendra had been a baby, she wouldn’t stop crying. He’d had her for the afternoon and the shrill noise had gone on and on. He would have done anything to make it stop. He’d wanted to shake her. Instead he’d waited outside until his mom had come back. She’d comforted Kendra the way he never could.

He’d seen then what he could do to his daughter. How he could hurt her. He knew where he came from and knew staying away from Kendra was better for them both.

He remained in his office until it was well after midnight, then quietly went upstairs.

The lights were off in the master bedroom. He opened the door and saw Lexi on her side of the bed. If she wasn’t sleeping, she didn’t acknowledge him, and he moved down the hall.

Kendra’s door was closed. He opened it without knocking.

His daughter lay curled up in the center of the bed. During the day she was smart and confrontational and nearly grown-up, but asleep, she looked small. C.C. snuggled next to her. Both were asleep.

He studied Kendra, wondering if any part of himself was in her and hoping it was more helpful than what his father had given him. Then he pulled up the covers, smoothed the blanket and left.

Tonight he would stand guard. Both Kendra and Lexi would tell him they were fine without him and maybe they were. But he would stay awake, just to be sure.

“YOU HAVE GOT TO be kidding,” Kendra grumbled as she walked into the kitchen. “Are you watching too much Nick at Nite?”

Lexi ignored the sarcasm and set two slices of French toast on a plate, which she pushed toward the teen.

“We don’t have cereal,” she said. “I didn’t know how you liked your eggs. So you’re stuck with this.”

“I don’t eat breakfast,” Kendra told her. “It’s a waste of calories.”

“Not eating in the morning makes a person crabby, which you are aptly demonstrating. The sooner you eat your breakfast, the sooner you can leave.”

Kendra grumbled something under her breath, then dropped her backpack on the floor with a thunk. She took the plate and picked up one of the slices, then ate.

“Milk?” Lexi asked, making sure she didn’t sound pleased she’d managed to win one round.

“Coffee.”

Did teenagers drink coffee? Lexi hadn’t. Still, she poured a cup and handed it to Kendra, who took a sip.

“How do you get to school?” Lexi asked.

“Bus.”

“Your bus comes here?”

“It’s a different bus, but yeah, it works this neighborhood. Even rich kids gotta graduate.”

“You live in the same school district as your dad?”

Kendra raised her eyebrows. “The same high-school district. Our condo is only about three miles from here. He didn’t tell you that, either?”

“Obviously not.”

So Kendra was practically within walking distance and he still didn’t spend time with her?

Kendra glanced at the clock on the wall and yelped. “I’m gonna miss my bus. See ya.”

She set down the plate, grabbed her backpack and ran to the front door. Lexi poured herself a cup of coffee and wondered how she was going to fix this. Not that it was her problem. Still, she couldn’t just ignore what was happening. Kendra and Cruz needed each other-they just didn’t know it yet.

CRUZ WALKED INTO LEXI’S office shortly after two that afternoon. She told herself she wasn’t happy to see him, even as her hormones began their very familiar dance of excitement.

It was all about chemistry, she thought, as she stood and moved around her desk. Something about his pheromones or her nervous system created a nearly uncontrollable need that swelled inside of her every time she was near him.

He looked good as he crossed the room. Tall and determined, in his perfectly fitted suit.

She wondered if he was there to apologize for their fight the previous evening. Maybe he’d figured out the importance of forming a relationship with his daughter, although she had her doubts. Cruz was determined not to care.

“I have to tell you something,” he said, surprising her with his serious tone. “You should probably sit down.”

Panic chased away arousal. “I don’t want to sit down. What is it?”

He took her hand in his and stared into her eyes. Fear chilled her from the inside.

“Cruz, what is it? Has someone been hurt?”

“Nothing like that. Everyone’s fine. I have something to tell you about Garth Duncan.”

“How bad could it be? Does he have some weird grudge against me?”

“Not just you. Maybe the whole family.”

“You’re not making sense.”

Cruz gripped her hand tighter. “Garth is Jed’s illegitimate son.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN