“My father knows I kept an apartment in Manhattan,” Caroline said as he joined her in the vehicle, where she already had the directions for the rental house she’d taken for her sister and their son pulled up on her phone. “Dad might look there after he strikes out at the house in Los Altos Hills.”
“You wouldn’t be staying at your apartment.” Damon turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot, more than ready to put the cops behind them for the day. “I have family there that I never knew about. Family that’s been reaching out to my brothers and me to join the fold. We could stay with them.”
Caroline remained silent for a long moment. Damon turned onto a road that led them toward the bay.
“We can stay somewhere else, of course.” Damon tried to gauge her expression, realizing she might have lost her ability to trust him to the same debilitating degree that he had lost all trust in her.
They needed to find a way to move past that. Fast.
“My father knows about your connection to the New York McNeills. He showed me an article about your half brother proposing to a ballet dancer he’d never met before, and the public speculation that Malcolm McNeill’s will requires his heirs to be married in order to inherit.” Caroline folded and refolded her copy of the police statement in fidgety hands.
Her fidgety bare hands.
He needed to put that wedding ring back on her finger where it belonged.
“Does that bother you?” He wasn’t sure what to make of her nervousness. “Are you familiar with that family?”
Last year, Damon’s father, Liam McNeill, had revealed the existence of his secret sons to his legal heirs and to his father, the wealthy patriarch of the McNeill family and founder of McNeill Resorts, a global hotel chain.
Now, Malcolm had made it his mission in life to bring Damon, Jager and Gabe into the family and make them full heirs. Damon hadn’t wanted any part of the reunion until today, when he discovered Stephan Degraff had tried to cheat him out of his son. He was open to leveraging the McNeill muscle for the sake of revenge.
“I’ve never met any of the McNeills, but my father suggested that Malcolm’s will was the only reason you married me, since there are strong tabloid rumors suggesting that he’s demanded his heirs be married before inheriting. My father believes you married me to claim your inheritance.”
Anger simmered that Stephan Degraff would stoop to that level to undermine their marriage, but by now, it certainly wasn’t a surprise. Damon needed the police to dispense justice to his bastard of a father-in-law, sooner rather than later.
“That’s not true. I didn’t even know I was related to Malcolm when we wed.” His grip tightened on the steering wheel. How many more times would he have to have his word verified by the police? “My half brother flew out to Los Altos Hills to introduce himself while I was searching for you in Europe. I didn’t learn about the family connection until a private investigator hired by my grandfather located me and convinced me to return to the States a month ago.”
On the other side of the Land Rover cab, Caroline gave a small sigh. Of relief or disbelief? He couldn’t read her as easily as he once could. She put up major boundaries now.
“Damon, I’m truly sorry. I know this is hard for you. Please remember I have holes in my memory that made it so much easier for my father to persuade me. It’s still difficult to sift through my life and trust my gut.” She put the police report aside and double-checked the GPS on her phone before settling the device in front of the map screen built into the dashboard so he could see where they were going. “But I promise you, I am trying to make sense of what happened. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to go to New York. A change of scenery might be good for both of us.”
The audio on the GPS alerted him his final turn was ahead.
Time to meet his son.
And as much as he couldn’t wait to hold his child in his arms, Damon couldn’t help but wish that the circumstances were very, very different.
* * *
Anxious to see her baby again, Caroline texted Victoria as they pulled up to the carriage house she’d rented for her sister and son. Before she could open the door of the Land Rover and race inside to hold Lucas again, Damon placed a hand on her knee.
It was a touch designed purely to slow her down. She could tell by his body language that he had withdrawn from her. Ever since she’d told him about the baby, Damon had been cooler toward her. Yes, he’d accompanied her to the police station and said all the right things about protecting her and Lucas. But she could feel his retreat as surely as a cold front coming off the Pacific.