Shadows At Sunset - Anne Stuart [74]
He’d even offered her a deal, Edith had said. She could have Dean and Jilly and he’d take Rachel-Ann. She’d said no, of course. They were all her children. But she’d failed to take into account how ruthless and determined Jackson could be. He’d taken her children and her only hope of happiness. And before she could get the courts to intervene a car accident had taken her life, leaving the three of them in Grandmère’s hands.
Jackson Dean Meyer hadn’t even bothered to accompany his children to Edith’s funeral. That was when the hatred had begun, Jilly thought. And the last eighteen years had only solidified it.
“Still the revolting hippie look I see,” Jackson said benevolently, reaching for her braid. “When are you going to cut your hair? And those clothes!” He sighed. “I would have thought you’d have inherited some clothes sense from your mother and me. If I can say one good thing about your mother, she knew how to dress. You seem to have missed out on that ability entirely.”
“Daddy…” Rachel-Ann’s troubled voice reached them, but he waved a silencing hand without looking at her. He hadn’t finished his carefully orchestrated attempt at demoralizing Jilly. He used to be able to do it so well. He must have forgotten that she’d grown impervious, once she found she no longer cared.
“Why are you here?” she asked in an even voice. “It’s not Christmas or anyone’s birthday, though you usually don’t pay attention to those, anyway. What blessed convergence of the stars do we have to thank for your appearance here tonight?”
“Your brother invited me.” He smiled his affable smile at Dean, who raised his wineglass in salute. Jackson Meyer’s smile had always been one of his most effective weapons. It reached his eyes, lit his whole face and convinced the recipient that this charming, wonderful man was totally enchanted with them. Until he slipped the knife between their ribs.
“I’m sure it’s not the first time he’s invited you. Dean hasn’t given up on you yet,” Jilly said.
“Ah, but you have, is that right, Jillian? Fortunately I have two other children to fall back on, since you in your infinite wisdom have decided my sins are unforgivable. It must be nice to be so sure of yourself, that you can sit in judgment on others.”
“You’re losing your touch, Jackson,” Jilly said, unruffled. “You tried that tack two Christmases ago. It didn’t work then and it won’t work now.”
Only the faint tightening in his handsome jaw-line betrayed his reaction. He smiled benevolently in her direction, but the smile faded slightly from his eyes. “Well, then, I’m sure we can excuse you for the rest of the evening, since you find my presence unacceptable. Dean and Rachel-Ann are glad to see me, and I know I can count on Coltrane.”
“I know you can,” she said sweetly.
“And take that hellhound with you,” he added, another trace of his affability vanishing. “He sheds.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t think of going anywhere,” Jilly said smoothly. “If you’ve finally decided to set foot in La Casa for the first time in my memory then the least I can do, as one of the owners, is to make you welcome. Are you here for dinner or are you just the appetizer?”
Jackson looked at her sorrowfully. “I must have hurt you very badly, dear girl. I’m so sorry.”
Zing! She didn’t betray the sting of fury. “I forgive you,” she said sweetly, sweeping around him and heading back to the table. Roofus was still eyeing Jackson and growling low in his throat, but Coltrane’s long fingers soothed him, and he settled back on the floor with a reluctant sigh as Jilly sat back down on the sofa.
Jackson took his time finding a comfortable chair and dragging it over to the table. He paused to give Rachel-Ann a kiss on her proffered cheek, then nodded at the two men in a manly, convivial gesture. He put the chair at the head, of course. He sat down, then beamed at the four