Power and Possession(114)
Preferring their privacy, Dominic and Kate didn’t have live-in help, but the cook came in each day and saw to their meals. The children immediately jumped off Nicole’s lap and clamored for the morning pastry Emilie always brought from the market. After handing them each a small caramel bun, the cook asked, “Now, what would everyone like for breakfast?”
Relieved that she was free from any further arguments, at least until after breakfast, Nicole smiled at the cook and put in her order for a veggie omelet. Rafe would find a way to liberate her; he’d texted that he’d come for her in the morning. She wasn’t going home. Dominic might not like it, but that wasn’t her problem.
Breakfast was almost over, the last of the children’s pancakes sizzling on the griddle, when the doorbell rang.
“Me get, me get!” James shouted, sliding out of his chair in a flash. “Me, me, me!” he screamed, running from the kitchen.
Dominic was right behind him, followed by the rest of the family. Visitors were rare. No surprise, when it practically took special permission signed in triplicate from the pope to reach the front door. When the concierge always called for confirmation before anyone was allowed up.
Dominic opened the door and froze.
Rafe smiled. “Morning.” Wearing perfectly pressed gray slacks, his white linen shirt buttoned up to the neck, his shoes shined to a high polish, his hair pulled back in a ponytail smooth as a matador’s, save for a pocket protector, Rafe looked like an accountant—albeit an uncommonly handsome one.
“Papa! Papa! Up! Up! Hold me!” James screamed in French; he had his father’s gift for languages. He already spoke four, including toddler Malay and Cantonese.
When Dominic picked up his son—a smaller version of himself, with identical hair, eyes, and cute rather than handsome looks—James pointed his finger at Rafe. “Who he?” he asked in English, having heard Rafe’s greeting. “Who you?” he added when his father didn’t immediately answer.
“My friend Rafe,” Nicole interjected, stepping forward, her heart pumping wildly, feeling happiness bubble inside her; Rafe was trying so hard in those ridiculous clothes.
“You tan be my friend too,” James said with a wide smile, then repeated the sentence in French in case the man didn’t understand because he hadn’t responded.
“Thank you,” Rafe finally said in English. “I’d like that. I have a little brother like you.”
“You do?” James grabbed a handful of Dominic’s hair and swung his father’s head sideways so he could see into his eyes. “He got bruver yike me, Papa.”
Dominic nodded. “Yes, I heard.”
“Bruver got name?” His gaze back on Rafe, James jabbed at his chest. “Me Jimmy.”
“Hi, Jimmy. My brother’s name is Titus.”
Rosie tugged on her father’s pant leg, sensing something was wrong. Her attachment to her father was strong, almost mystical; they were a team. “Daddy?”
Dominic looked down and smiled. “It’s fine, sweetie.” He winked at her. “Everything’s fine.”
Rafe saw that spark, that magic between parent and child, and knew that Dominic Knight wouldn’t make a scene in front of his children. Lifting up the shopping bags he was carrying an inch or two, Rafe said, “I brought the children some gifts, if that’s okay?”
“Me, me, gif!” James screamed and wiggled frantically in his father’s arms, trying to get down.
Rosie lightly brushed her father’s leg, more composed than her brother, remembering her manners, but excitement shone in her eyes. “May we, Daddy?”
Goddamn fucker, Dominic silently swore, then turned his full attention on his daughter, giving her a little smile. “Of course you can, sweetie.” His gaze shifted to Rafe, turned into a glare. “Come in.” With a quick glance over his shoulder, he lifted an eyebrow to Kate. “Why don’t you show the children what Rafe brought while he and I talk for a minute in my office.” Another sharp look for Rafe. “That okay with you?”
“Absolutely. No problem.” Rafe handed the two bags to Kate, then slid Nicole’s backpack off his shoulder and held it out to her.
“I’ll come with you,” Nicole said.
“No you won’t,” Dominic snapped.
Dominic’s tone made the children jump. They’d never heard a harsh word from their father.
“Katherine, take Nicole with you to help with the presents.” Dominic smiled at his children. “Go with Mummy. I’ll come see all your presents in a few minutes.”
Rosie didn’t move until Dominic bent down, brushed a fall of red hair from her forehead, and kissed her. “Go on, sweetheart. I’ll be right there.” As the family walked away, Dominic said under his breath, “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know. Let’s get this over with.” And he turned and moved down the hallway.