Golden Lies - Barbara Freethy [55]
"Stop baiting me, Riley. I'm not getting into a competition with you on who had it the hardest."
"Because you can't compete. You can't even get in the starting block. You grew up in a rose garden."
"I grew up in a cold, lonely house." She gazed out the window and drew in a breath. "My parents barely spoke, and my grandfather's anger and bitterness chilled every room."
"And he had so much to be bitter about, all that money weighing him down."
She turned her head to look at him, but he was staring at the traffic, his profile hard. He seemed almost unreachable. She told herself not to try, but the words wanted to come out. "My grandfather lost his wife and daughter in a car crash when my father was nine years old," she said quietly. "He never recovered from their deaths. He hired housekeepers and nannies to raise my father because he couldn't do it himself. He was too full of hate at the universe for what had happened to him. When my father got married and started a family of his own, my grandfather felt renewed hope that the house would once again be filled with laughter and happiness. When I was really small he used to smile more, he used to laugh. Then Elizabeth got sick and died, and that ended. The last bit of life went out of our house for everyone. The rooms were so quiet I could hear my own heart beating, my own breath going in and out of my chest. It was that still."
She stopped herself from going on, wishing she hadn't told him so much already. She was opening herself up to get hurt. And he could hurt her. She didn't know why his opinion mattered, but it did. Maybe it was because she was used to people liking her, trusting her, and Riley's attitude was difficult to understand. Maybe she really was a spoiled little rich girl who didn't know how good she had it. Riley wasn't going to feel sorry for her; he'd grown up with a mother who was a drug addict, a woman who'd abandoned him.
"Say something," she muttered, wanting to get it over with. "Tell me how not sorry you are for me."
"I'm not sorry for you, Paige," he said, but when he turned to look at her there was a softness in his eyes that took the sting out of his words. "But maybe I understand you a little better. I shouldn't have judged you. I'm just in a bad mood. I don't like it when people I care about are in danger." He pulled the car up in front of her apartment building and shut off the engine. "How about a truce? We need to work together."
"You just want to keep an eye on me."
"That, too. Look, Paige, it's not just you. I don't trust anyone."
"Except your grandmother."
He tipped his head. "Except her. She's special."
"One day you might manage to feel that way about another woman."
"I'm not looking for a wife. I don't know what my grandmother told you; I'm happy with my life."
"I'm happy, too, and I'm not looking to make any changes," she said pointedly.
"You may not be looking, but your life is changing. You now have a half sister."
She sighed. "I've been trying to forget about that."
"You have to deal with her, sooner or later."
"Let's make it later. I want to change my clothes and get back to the hospital."
"I'll wait for you and give you a ride."
"You don't have to do that. I can get myself there."
"We're keeping an eye on each other, remember?"
"What do you think I'm going to do, make some shady deal with an art buyer while I'm in the shower?"
He gave her a sexy smile. "If you think I need to follow you into the shower, just say so."
She saw the gleam in his eyes and gave a bemused shake of her head. "I can't figure you out. First you're nice, then you're sarcastic and cold, now you're flirting. Who is the real Riley?"
He grinned. "You like me, don't you?"
"I said you were complicated; I didn't say I liked you."
"Same thing."
"It's not at all the same thing." But as she got out of the car and slammed the door on his mocking smile, she was afraid he was right.
* * *
Alyssa couldn't concentrate on the loan application she was reviewing. Usually