Gabriel grumbled something under his breath. Sam wondered if he was doing the math to figure out how much it would cost him.

“You’re not going back to New York,” Sam told her. “It’s been less than twenty-four hours. Why don’t we back off for a few days.”

Kelly scowled. “Tell him to back off.” She walked to the pantry. “What did the ballet teacher say when you spoke with her?”

“I haven’t.”

Kelly turned on him. “What? I asked you to do one thing. Just one. Not twenty, not even five. And you couldn’t do it. Why? Is this just to torture me or do you have a reason?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“With things that are important to you. Not with things that are important to me.”

Sam gripped his coffee mug so tightly, he thought he might snap it in two. His first instinct was to send Kelly to her room and ground her for life. Not that he knew what terms would be considered grounding. Locking her up sounded pretty damn good, though.

He thought about telling her she’d just lost her chance at ever attending a ballet class, but quickly reconsidered. Getting her out of the house for a few hours a day could be a blessing for both of them.

He sucked in a breath. “You know that DVD player you wanted?” he asked. “You can forget it until you learn to speak politely and respectfully.”

She stared at him. “You are so kidding.”

“Not even close, kid.”

“Whatever. I’ll buy it myself.”

That’s right. The credit card, compliments of his mother’s estate. He would have to take care of that next.

“When are you calling the ballet teacher?” she asked through gritted teeth. “I want you to do it now.”

“I will get to it when it’s convenient for me. You can hurry the process along by being civil or you can wait. Your choice.”

She glared at him. “You’re not the boss of me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I absolutely am. I know you’ve been through hell, and I’m sorry about that. However, your circumstances don’t give you the right to mouth off.”

Kelly looked at him as if he were dog crap on her shoes. “If you’re so worried about what I say, then you shouldn’t swear in front of me. Or do the rules only apply to me? Don’t you have to be civil, too?”

With that she turned on her heel and left the room.

Sam clutched his mug, not sure if he was going to drink the contents or throw it across the room.

“She’s a handful,” Gabriel said.

“Tell me about it.”

“I guess locking her up would be against the law,” Sam said.

Francesca wasn’t completely sure he was kidding. “You know it would be. And it wouldn’t solve any problems.”

“Maybe it would. You could report me and the state would take her away.”

“Is that what you want?”

He shook his head. “No. What I want is for this to be easier.”

“It’s only day one,” she reminded him.

It was mid-afternoon. She’d arrived about an hour before to find Kelly eating lunch by herself and Sam holed up in his office. Neither of them seemed to be speaking to the other, and Kelly had barely acknowledged her.

She and Sam were out on the deck, enjoying the warm afternoon, with a soft ocean breeze blowing over them. He was holding her hand, which made her want to talk about tangled sheets instead of his daughter. But that wasn’t an option right now. Which was really too bad.

“It’s been a long day,” he told her, then explained what had happened that morning when Gabriel had been over to meet Kelly.

Francesca winced. “Okay, so we won’t describe her as shy or timid. What did your grandfather say?”

“Nothing I can repeat in mixed company. He wasn’t a fan of my ex-wife’s, either, and to his mind, Kelly is too much like her.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you handled the situation really well. If she wants a DVD player, that gives you something to hold over her head.” She glanced at him and smiled. “I mean that figuratively, not literally.”

“I know. I’m not interested in hurting her. What I would like instead is to deal with a regular child instead of Teen-zilla.”

“Does she have access to a computer?”

“Yes. In the other guest room.”

“Then she could go buy the player herself. She’s good at that.”

He grinned. “Not anymore. I’ve canceled her credit card.”

“How?”

“I contacted the law firm handling my mother’s estate. Tanya had already told them that I had custody of Kelly. The lawyer I spoke with said I was entitled to the same monetary provisions Tanya had—Kelly’s expenses covered plus five thousand a month.” He shook his head. “I told them that wasn’t necessary.”

“She’s going to be crabby when she finds out she can’t shop at will.”

He chuckled. “I know. I figured I’d let her find out for herself.” His humor faded. “The lawyer told me something else. When Kelly was born, my mother had the paternity checked. The kid is mine.”

Francesca was afraid to ask if that was good or bad. “At least you know.”

“There wasn’t a whole lot of doubt, but yeah, I know.” He shrugged. “I got in touch with that ballet teacher, too. Angelina something. She’s willing to see Kelly tomorrow. Apparently there’s an audition process to get into this class. It must be a big deal. She has an appointment at eleven.”

“Want me to take her?”

Sam looked at her. “You have your own life and it doesn’t include Teen-zilla.”

Francesca smiled. “Agreed, but I was serious when I said I would help. Hey, I spent the morning organizing my closet just to avoid working on my outline. Driving Kelly to her ballet audition would be a far better displacement activity. I could come here first thing and you could go to work.”

He looked as hopeful as a drowning man spotting a rescue boat. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’ll be sure to return the favor.” He brought her hand to his mouth and lightly kissed her knuckles.

The brush of his lips against her skin sent heat racing through her body, but before she could do something wild like throw herself at him and beg to be taken, he lowered his arm back to the table between their chairs.

Oh, well. Maybe next time.

“I have this theory about Kelly,” she said. “I was thinking about her while cleaning out my closet. I think she’s in a lot of emotional pain.”

Sam looked at her. “From her mother dumping her on me?”

“It’s more than that. The way Kelly talks about her life in New York, she was completely on her own. Even if you factor out a child’s inclination to exaggerate, it’s still pretty awful. You mentioned that Tanya was seeing someone she wanted to marry who never knew about Kelly. Combine those elements and you have a child who feels unloved and unwelcome. In her mind she could be thinking she’s so horrible, she has to be kept a secret. Then her mother abandons her, and she meets a father she never knew about. Kelly has to be terrified, lonely, and really hurting.”

He considered the information. “You think that’s why she’s being so difficult? She’s lashing out like a wounded animal?”

“Exactly. With some time and positive attention, she’ll be a completely different person.”

“What if that person is worse?”

Francesca chuckled. “She won’t be.”

“You can’t know that for sure.” He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. “I went online, looking for some parenting books. There are a bunch on raising teens, and the descriptions scared the hell out of me. I want to back up and get her younger. Or when she’s eighteen. Plus none of them had any practical information on things like what to feed her and how much sleep she needs.”

Francesca did her best to ignore the tingling brought on by his light stroking and instead pay attention to the conversation. “She’s not a llama. She doesn’t have a special diet. Offer her healthy food and let her pick what she wants. As for sleep, by the end of summer you will know how much she needs so she’s alert for school.”

“Healthy food? I was going to order in Chinese tonight.”

“That’s fine once in a while. You don’t have to dine on tofu every night.”

“I’m not dining on tofu ever.”

“Still a steak guy?”

He turned toward her. “I’m a man of simple tastes. I know what I like and I go after it.”

She melted. Right there on the chair. Sam leaned forward and kissed her. Just as she parted her mouth, a door slammed in the house. Sam swore.

She considered the single word, then sighed. “Maybe next time.”

8

“A nd one, and two, and three, and now!”

Kelly moved in time with the music. She swept her arms up in the air, then bent low at the waist, turning slightly. Her young face was the picture of concentration. Despite the plain black tights and leotards, with her hair pulled back and her skin bare of makeup, she reminded Francesca of a butterfly in a flower garden, flitting with grace and delight on a perfect summer day.

As she had learned in the past hour, the reality of ballet was far more about hard work than flitting, but the end result was just as beautiful. As the music swelled slightly, Kelly rose on her toes and began to turn slowly. Her little skirt swayed with the movement.

Francesca knew she should be working on organizing her paper, or reading the research book she’d brought with her, but she’d been unable to tear her attention away from Kelly’s dance audition. What she knew about ballet and classical music wouldn’t fill a thimble. She’d seen The Nutcracker a couple of times, but other than that her cultural education had been limited to the occasional trip to the opera.

Sitting at the edge of the practice room, she could see firsthand how difficult the moves were. The first half hour had been devoted to specific moves done at slow speed. But the lack of speed didn’t make it easy. Parts of different dances had filled the second half hour. The instructor had called out the name of a ballet and some other instructions in French, then Kelly had performed.

Francesca watched her. The slender preteen moved with a grace that made Francesca envious. With her hair pulled back, she looked older than twelve. Her eyes seemed more green than they had the night before. She was already pretty—becoming beautiful was only a few years away. Sam was going to have plenty of trouble when the boys started to come calling.

The instructor—Miss Angelina—spoke in rapid French. Francesca had taken a couple of years of Spanish in high school and knew a smattering of Italian from her father’s family. For all she knew, Miss Angelina was telling Kelly to get ready to rob a convenience store. But instead of reaching for weapons, Kelly curtsied.

Miss Angelina nodded and left the room. Kelly stared after her.

In that moment, longing tightened the girl’s features. She looked alone, vulnerable, and very young.

Francesca stood. “What happened?” she asked.

Kelly shrugged. “I’m in. No biggie. You saw those other girls when we got here. Some of them are good, but the rest…” She shrugged and started toward the dressing room.

Francesca wanted to follow her and shake her. Being accepted into the dance class was a big deal. Why couldn’t Kelly be excited? Why didn’t she jump around like a normal kid? Or had life taught her not to show emotions because they could be used against her?

“I have Kelly’s application papers here,” the instructor said as she walked back into the studio. Her voice was lilting, and tinged with a French accent. “She will join my upper-intermediate class. If she works hard, she’ll be with the advanced students within a year.”