“You’re a painter now?”

“Walls, not canvases. I’m sorry, Ash isn’t here. He had some errands. Do you want to come in, wait for him?”

Rather than answer, he simply stepped inside. “I take it you’ve moved in.”

“No. I’m staying here until I start my next job. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Staying here,” he repeated, “after a whirlwind trip to Italy.”

“Yes, we went to Italy. I’m happy to get you a drink, or I’m sure you know your way around if you’d rather just help yourself. I really need to clean my tools.”

“I want to know what’s going on.”

She saw some of Ash in him, and oddly some of her own father in him.

Authority, she realized. A man who had it, a man who used it, and expected others to fall in line.

She wouldn’t.

“I’m painting the powder room using a Venetian plaster technique.”

It wasn’t the first time someone had looked down his nose at her, Lila thought, but Spence Archer had one of the best techniques.

“Don’t be stupid.”

“I’m not. I’m trying to remember that whatever you think of me, you’re Ash’s father.”

“As his father, I want to know what’s going on.”

“Then you’ll have to be more specific.”

“I want to know why you paid a visit to Giovanni Bastone. And since you’ve managed to insert yourself into my son’s life, in his home, so quickly, I want to know how far you intend to take this.”

Her head began to throb, a steady beat-beat-bang in her temples, at the base of her skull. “You should ask Ashton the first question. As to the second, I don’t owe you an answer. You may want to ask your son how far he intends to take it as it’s his life and his home. As you are his father and obviously don’t want me here, I’ll leave until you and Ash talk.”

She grabbed the spare keys from the bowl in the same cabinet as the monitor, marched straight to the door, yanked it open.

And pulled up short when Ash started up the short flight of steps outside.

Twenty-six

What part of ‘Don’t go out’ confused you?” he wondered. Then his eyes narrowed on her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I want some air. Your father’s here.”

Before she could walk by him, Ash simply took her arm, turned her around.

“I don’t want to be here—and you’re about to become the third person I’ve punched in the face.”

“I’m sorry, and do what you have to do. But he’s not chasing you off. That needs to be made clear to both of you.”

“I’m going for a damn walk.”

“We’ll take one later.” He pulled her back inside. “Dad.” With a nod, he carried the bags he was holding to a table, set them down.

“I want to talk to you, Ashton. Alone.”

“We’re not alone. It occurs to me, though you met, I never introduced you. Lila, this is my father, Spence Archer. Dad, this is Lila Emerson, the woman I love. You’re both going to have to get used to it. Anybody want a beer?”

“You barely know her,” Spence began.

“No, you barely know her because you choose to believe she’s after my money—which would come under the heading of ‘my business.’”

His tone, so brutally cool, had Lila fighting off a shudder. She’d rather face the fire any day, any time.

“You choose to believe that she’s after your money,” Ash continued, “which is your business, but entirely without merit. And you choose to believe she’s after the cachet of the Archer name, which is ludicrous. In reality she doesn’t care about any of those things. In fact, they seem to be points against me, which is pretty damn annoying. But I’m working on that since I intend to spend my life with her.”

“I never said I—”

He just shot Lila a look so cold it burned. “Be quiet.”

When sheer shock had her closing her mouth, he turned back to his father.

“She’s done nothing to earn your attitude toward her or your treatment of her. On the contrary, you should be grateful she offered one of your sons compassion and generosity while he coped with the death of another of your sons.”

“I came here to speak with you, Ashton, not be lectured.”

“My house,” Ash said simply. “My rules. As to my plans regarding Lila? They’re long-term. Unlike you, this is something I plan to do only once. I’ve been more careful than you might think because it’s a one-time deal for me. Lila hasn’t done anything to deserve your behavior toward her, which is nothing but a reflection of some of your own experiences. You need to stop using them to measure my life and choices. I love you, but if you can’t show Lila reasonable courtesy—the basic rules of behavior you expect from me, from everyone else—you won’t be welcome here.”

“Don’t. Don’t do that.” The tears that stung her eyes appalled her nearly as much as Ashton’s words. “Don’t speak like that to your father.”

“Do you think I won’t stand up for you?” Some of the hot, ripe temper bubbling under the chill lashed out now. “Or is that something else no one else is allowed to do?”

“No, it’s not—Ash, he’s your father. Please don’t say that to him. It’s not right. We can just stay out of each other’s way, can’t we?” She appealed to Spence. “Can’t we just agree to avoid each other? I can’t be responsible for causing a rift between you. I won’t be.”

“You’re not responsible, and everyone in this room knows it. Don’t we?” Ash said to his father.

“As long as I’m head of the family, I have an obligation to look after the interests of the family.”

“If you mean financial interests, do whatever you think best there. You won’t get an argument. But this is my personal life, and you’ve no right to interfere. I never interfered in yours.”

“Do you want to make the same mistakes I did?”

“I don’t. Why do you think I waited? Still, whatever mistakes I make are mine. Lila’s not one of them. You can back off, have a beer, or not.”

After a lifetime in business, Spence knew how to change tack. “I want to know why you went to Italy to see Giovanni Bastone.”