Westmoreland's Way - Brenda Jackson [13]
Dillon nodded. She had responded to his question and in the same breath, had effectively switched topics, which let him know the subject of her relationship with Fletcher Mallard was not up for discussion.
He pushed his chair back and then got on his feet. “I’m ready, just lead the way.”
She did and he couldn’t help but appreciate the backside that strolled in front of him as he followed.
With his long legs, it didn’t take Dillon long to catch up with her, Pamela thought. Not that she was trying to leave him behind. But for a few moments she’d needed to get her bearings. The man had a way of making her not think straight.
He was silent as she led him up the stairs and she couldn’t help looking sideways to gaze at his profile. What was it about him that affected her in a way Fletcher didn’t? Her heart rate accelerated when she noticed he even climbed the stairs with an ingrained sexiness that made her senses reel.
When they reached the top landing he moved slightly ahead of her, as if he knew where he was going. “If I didn’t know better I’d swear you’ve been here before,” she said as they continued to walk toward the end of the hall that led to the attic stairs.
He glanced down at her and smiled. “This might sound crazy but this house is very similar to mine back in Denver. Was it built by your great-grandfather?”
“Yes.”
“Then that might explain things, since the house I live in was built by Raphel. I’m thinking he liked the design, and when he decided to build his home he did so from his memory of this one.”
“That would explain how you knew about our secret window.” She regretted the words the moment they left her lips. She had just admitted to spying on him out the window when he’d arrived.
“Yes, that’s how I know about it. I have one of my own just like it and in the same place.”
“I see.” But, in a way, she didn’t see, which made her as eager to find out about Raphel as Dillon was.
She then walked on and he joined her. When they reached the door that led to the attic she opened it. Judging from the expression on his face, it was as if he’d seen the view before, and that made her determined to know why his home was a replica of hers.
Unlike the other stairs in her home, the attic steps were narrow and Dillon moved aside for her to go up ahead of him. She could feel the heat of his gaze on her back. She was tempted to glance over her shoulder but knew that wouldn’t be the appropriate thing to do. So she did the next best thing and engaged him in conversation.
She broke into the silence by saying, “At dinner you mentioned that you were the oldest of Raphel’s fifteen great-grands.” She glanced briefly over her shoulder.
“Yes, and for a number of years I was the legal guardian for ten of them.”
Pamela swung around so quickly, had she been standing on a stair she probably would have lost her balance. “Guardian to ten of them?”
At his nod, she blinked in amazement. “How did that come about?” She stepped aside when he reached her, noting there still wasn’t a lot of room between them, but she was so eager to hear his answer she didn’t make a move to step back any further.
“My parents and my aunt and uncle decided to go away for the weekend together, to visit one of my mother’s friends in Louisiana. On their way back to Denver, their plane developed engine trouble and went down, killing everyone on board.”
“Oh, how awful.”
“Yes, it was. My parents had seven kids and my aunt and uncle had eight. I was the oldest at twenty-one. My brother Micah was nineteen and Jason was eighteen. My other brothers, Riley, Stern, Canyon and Brisbane, were all under sixteen.”
He braced a hip against the stair railing and continued. “My cousin Ramsey was twenty, and his brother Zane was nineteen and Derringer was eighteen. The remaining cousins, Megan, Gemma, the twins Adrian and Aiden, and the youngest, Bailey, were also all under sixteen.”
She also leaned against the rail to face him, still full of questions. “And family services didn’t have a problem with you being responsible for so many little ones?