"If there hadn't been, she'd be out. " Harper scooped up Lily when she tried to climb up his leg. "And I'm not talking about my mother. "
"No. " Mitch nodded. "And Roz expressed just about the same sentiment. "
"And she's alone up there," David chimed in, then glanced up from his work at the stove. "Because she means it. Everyone in this house, dead or alive, knows she means it. "
"And we're all down here, leaving her be because she runs this show. " Logan leaned back against the counter.
"That may be, but after this, she'll have to get used to giving up the wheel from time to time. Is that coffee fresh?" Mitch asked with a nod toward the pot.
UPSTAIRS, ROZ PICKEDup the pieces of the personal treasures she'd kept in her bedroom. Little mementos, little memories, shattered now.
Willful destruction, she thought, that was the worst of it. The waste of the precious through selfish temper.
"Like some spoiled child," she mumbled as she worked to put order back to her space. "I didn't tolerate that behavior from my own children, and I won't tolerate it from you. Whoever the hell you are. "
She straightened furniture, then moved to the bed to remake it. "You best just keep that in mind, Amelia. You best just remember who's mistress of Harper House. "
She felt better, amazingly better, taking action, putting her room to rights, saying her piece, even if it was to an empty room.
Steadier, she stepped into the bathroom. Her hair, short as it was, stood up in spikes from the wind that had blown through her bedroom. Not, Roz decided, a good look for her. She brushed it into order, then idly freshened her makeup. And thought about Mitch.
Fascinating man. She couldn't remember the last man who'd fascinated her. It was interesting, and telling, that he'd stated he was staying the night - no polite request, just a flat statement. Then left it to her where he would sleep.
Yes, it was a fascinating man who could be both dominating and obliging in the same sentence.
And she wanted him. It felt wonderful to want, to need, to have this good, healthy lust bubbling inside her. Certainly she was beyond the stage where she had to deny herself a lover, and smart enough now to recognize when that lover was a man she could respect. Maybe trust.
Trust was just a little tougher than respect, and a whole lot tougher than lust.
So they'd start with what they had, she decided, and see where it went.
When she came out, she heard music, Memphis blues played low, from her sitting room. Her frown was back as she stepped over to the doorway.
Dinner for two was set on her gateleg table - slices of David's roast chicken, snowy mashed potatoes, spears of asparagus, golden biscuits.
How the boy managed to put together her favorite comfort foods was beyond her, but that was her David.
And there was Mitch standing in the candlelight, pouring her a glass of wine.
She felt a lurch - heart and belly - like a blow. Sucker punch, she thought dully, that was both rude and shocking. More than lust, when lust was all she wanted. But more was standing there, with cuts on his hands and face, whether she wanted it or not.
Then he looked over, and smiled at her.
Well, damn it! was all she could think.
"We thought you'd like a quiet meal," he said. "A little calm in the storm. And since I wanted to talk to you, I didn't give your front-line soldiers any argument. "
"Soldiers. That's an interesting term. "
"Apt enough. Harper would pick up the sword in a heartbeat for you - and I imagine your other sons are the same. "
"I like to think I can fight my own battles. "
"Which is only more reason they'd stand for you. Then there's David. " He stepped over, held out the wine. "Your fourth son, I'd say, in everything but blood. He adores you. "
"It's mutual. "
"Then there's Logan. Though I'm not sure he'd appreciate the imagery, I see him as a knight to your queen. "