One Kiss In… Miami

Daisy groaned. “Oh, that’s just great. Which part of Condition One didn’t you understand?”

“I possess perfect comprehension. This, however—” He swept his arm in a wide arc to encompass the disaster that had previously been his kitchen. “This defies even my ability to comprehend. But it’s not beyond my ability to correct. First things first.”

He waded through the water to the one drawer that had so far escaped Noelle’s detection and remained intact. He upended the stack of dishtowels it contained onto the floor. Then he crossed to Jett’s computer and with a few swift keystrokes disconnected her from his computer system.

“Full control returned to you, Pretorius.”

“They’re leaving now, right?”

“I’ll be down shortly to discuss it.”

“Discussing implies ‘not leaving.’ I don’t want to discuss.” A hint of panic crept into his voice. “I want them to leave.”

“Give me five minutes. Computer disengage.”

Then he turned his attention to his daughter and Daisy flinched. He’d allowed himself a quick look earlier, when they’d first arrived. A look, she didn’t doubt, that had just about destroyed him. At a guess, he hadn’t realized until that moment what sort of effect such a tiny human being could have on him. Well, he’d found out, and then some. He teetered on the edge of losing it, something she wouldn’t allow to happen in front of so many witnesses.

“Aggie?” Daisy murmured. “Why don’t you and Jett go on upstairs and pick out rooms.”

“Would you like me to fix you a cup of hot tea before I go?” She spared Justice a warm smile. “I consider it the perfect restorative. No matter how upset I am, hot tea always makes me feel better.”

“Later, perhaps.”

The housekeeper’s gaze shifted from Justice to Noelle and she gave a brisk nod of understanding. That quick comprehension was one of the qualities Daisy most admired about the former schoolteacher. Without another word, she gathered up Jett, and the two slipped from the room. Justice continued to stand, rooted in place, unable to take his eyes off his daughter. He started toward her and then hesitated. His usual forcefulness deserted him, exposing an unsettling vulnerability.

“May I?” he asked with painful formality.

Daisy swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “Of course. She’s your daughter, too.”

He approached Noelle and held out his hand. The move was so tentative and cautious it threatened to break Daisy’s heart. Noelle grabbed his hand with her usual impulsiveness and yanked it to her mouth for a taste. Not giving him time to withdraw, Daisy transferred their daughter from her own arms to his. And then she stepped back, watching a connection form that no computer interface could duplicate.

Ever so gently, Justice settled his daughter into his arms, cradling her as though she might shatter, his grip a trifle awkward. She responded by touching everything within reach. If she could grab it, it went into her mouth for a taste. If she couldn’t, her nimble fingers explored it as though attempting to discern how and why, where and what. And most important, whether she could take it apart.

“She’s beautiful,” he murmured.

“Thanks. I’d say it was the luck of the draw. Somehow I suspect you’d say something about the expression of genetic information and the role of dominant versus recessive versus blending genes,” she dared to tease.

He glanced up, his eyes glittering with a hunger that threatened to bring her to her knees. How quickly it happened, that unbreakable bond that connected hearts and souls, parent to child. She caught the stamp of possession. The want. And even more, the need.

“Actually, I was about to say that she takes after you,” he said.

Simple and sincere and utterly unlike Justice. It could only be Noelle’s influence, and Daisy wished with all her heart that it wouldn’t stop there. “I’d say she was a perfect blend. Look at her, Justice. Her eye color is somewhere between yours and mine. Her hair is more strawberry than blond or ebony. She’s as extroverted as I am and as brilliant as you are.”

As though in response to the comment, Noelle beamed at her father, showing off eight pearly nubs.

“She has teeth already.” A slight frown creased Justice’s brow. “And you said she’s verbal. Can she walk?”

“Yes. She’s still a little unsteady on her feet, but that doesn’t stop her from getting to where she wants to go.”

“So much,” he murmured. “I’ve missed so much.” He passed a hand over her curls, stroked a creamy cheek with his fingertip. She crowed in delight, grabbing his finger and tugging it back to her face. “She’s not the least reticent.”

“No, she has a very outgoing personality. She’s never been at all clingy.”

“Is she naked for a reason?”

Daisy wondered when he’d get around to that. “I’m afraid your daughter doesn’t like wearing clothes. I don’t know how she does it, but she’s a little escape artist. I’ll turn my back for no more than two seconds and she’s wriggled out of whatever I’ve dressed her in. Cribs and high chairs don’t hold her. And forget about a playpen.”

“Huh.”

“What does ‘huh’ mean?” she asked suspiciously.

He ignored her question. “And the cupboards?” he asked. “Was that your housekeeper or our daughter?”

Daisy sighed. “Noelle,” she admitted.

“Huh.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “That’s twice you’ve ‘huhed’ your daughter and you still haven’t explained the first one, let alone the second. What do you know that I don’t?”

He hesitated, his eyes guarded, intensifying her level of concern. “My ‘huh’—both of them—indicate a familiarity and understanding of Noelle’s methods and thought processes.”

She didn’t bother to conceal her relief. “That didn’t take long.”

“No,” he murmured. “But then, there’s a reason for that.”

“Please,” she encouraged in a polite voice. “Don’t keep it to yourself or I might just grab one of the pots Noelle was banging and beat it out of you.”

Justice eyed her almost defensively. “I believe this might be the appropriate time to admit to a certain genetic propensity, one that I hope you’ll learn to accept over time.”

Her maternal instincts went on red alert. “You’re making me very, very nervous. Are you suggesting there’s something wrong with our daughter?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then what? And I do mean exactly.”

“It’s not Noelle’s fault. It’s mine. It’s part of the genetic makeup she inherited from me. How her brain is wired.” He cradled Noelle tight against his body, very hard, the sweeping line of his posture telegraphing a clear protective impulse, one he’d no doubt deny if she dared point it out to him. “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t hold it against her.”

“Hold it …” Daisy trailed off, stunned. “Dear God, Justice. Do you think I’d ever criticize our daughter for something as natural and basic as human curiosity? That I’d ever punish her for exploring her world and trying to figure out how it works?”

“Some people would. Some people would consider her flawed.”

Hurt ripped through her, catching in her throat and bleeding through her words. “I’m not some people. I’m Noelle’s mother. I adore her. I’d do anything for her. Sacrifice anything.”

Justice closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. “I apologize. It’s just …” He looked at her again, direct and unflinching, his eyes the color of tarnished gold. “I’ve seen it happen before.”

He made the statement so simply and resolutely, and yet with such unspeakable pain and vulnerability. Her heart ached for him. “Who did you see it happen to, Justice?” she asked gently. “You?”

He nodded. Once. “Noelle is processing her world by dismantling it,” he explained. He paused a beat. Gathered himself. “That particular characteristic got me kicked out of my first half-dozen foster homes.”

She didn’t know what she’d expected, but it wasn’t that. “Let me get this straight. Some of your earlier foster parents made you leave because you took things apart? Are you serious?”

“Quite.” He clenched his jaw. “I tried not to. I did. But I couldn’t seem to help myself. I imagine it became annoying when they’d get up in the morning, only to discover the coffeepot or toaster disassembled.”

“Then, why did you do it?”

“I needed to take things apart and study them in order to understand how they worked.” He made the statement as though it should have been obvious. “It was perfectly logical.”

Daisy hid a smile. “Of course it was. Assuming you could then put them back together.”

“That took a bit longer to master. Now that I think about it, your parents were the first to understand that.” A small frown creased his brow, as though the memory were an unwelcome one. “I’d forgotten until now. Your father actually encouraged my curiosity by finding broken-down lawn mowers and computers and car engines and letting me tinker.”

“I remember you had all these mechanical parts spread out over our entire garage,” she murmured. “Everything organized just so on counters and tarps and in jars. And heaven help anyone who dared move so much as a single nut or bolt.”

“And yet, you moved them all the time.”

Her mouth tugged into a mischievous smile. “Only because it made you react. You were always so self-contained. My parents constantly told me to leave you alone. To respect your privacy.”

“Not that you ever did.”

“I couldn’t,” she admitted with a shrug. “While you were busy tinkering with mechanical puzzles, I couldn’t resist deciphering a far more human one.”

“My mistake with your parents was that I didn’t confine my tinkering to the lawn mowers and computers and car engines.” Unmistakable want burned a path across his face. “I had to take you apart, too.”

Daisy sighed. “And some things, once taken apart, can’t be put together again.”

“Not the way they were before,” he agreed.

She approached like a moth to a flame, drawn to the circle of heat and light formed by Justice and their daughter. “I swear to you, I didn’t know they found out about us. I didn’t know that’s why you left. Why you were forced to go. I would have stood up for you if I had. I would have stopped them. Explained. Something.”

He shook his head. “You were fifteen. There was nothing else to explain. Nor would standing up to them have changed anything. What we did was wrong and I paid the price for dismantling you.”

“You shouldn’t have had to.”

“Yes, I should have. I realize that now.” He glanced down at his daughter. “What would we do if it were Noelle at fifteen? If someone dismantled her at that age?”

Her breath caught. Shivered in her lungs. She couldn’t begin to find the words to express what she felt and she could only stare at Justice in dismay.

“I agree,” he said softly.

“Oh, Justice.” Helpless. Hopeless. “What are we going to do?”

As usual, he had a plan. “First, I need to go downstairs and talk to Pretorius. He’s going to have difficulty with the changes.” Reluctantly, he handed over Noelle. “Afterward, I’d like to spend more time with our daughter, assuming that’s acceptable to you.”

“You don’t need my permission.” The fact that he felt he did distressed her. “You’re her father. I’m here because it’s important to me that you two bond.”

He stared at his daughter and all expression winked from his face. “She’s walking and talking, already. She has teeth. Are you certain it’s not too late?”

Tears pricked Daisy’s eyes. “No, Justice. It’s not too late. Not if you don’t let it be.”

His gaze locked with hers and he gave a quick nod. “Then I won’t let it be.”

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