All He Needs Page 54


Kate hesitated a moment then said, “The death of his wife you mean.”

“Yes, that too.”

Melanie glanced away, lost for a moment in the obscure misery of Dominic’s youth. Then she blinked and reclaimed the present. “I can’t help but notice,” she said, then stopped. “Well—how Nick’s so cheerful with you, vital—even joyful. I’m so grateful to see him like that, smiling, happy. You see, Nick normally doesn’t relate well to people… with any intimacy, I mean. Although,” she added with a small smile, “he can be very charming if he wishes.”

“I know,” Kate said, indelibly conscious of Dominic’s many virtues. “I’ve seen Dominic’s charm in action… in Amsterdam and again at a charity event in Hong Kong. He’s amazingly charismatic. Every woman was captivated, and the men liked him as well. He raised a lot of money for Max’s wife that night.”

“How nice for Liv. I haven’t seen her since Conall was born.” Melanie paused, as though debating her next remark, before she said, “I understand you met my mother when you were in Hong Kong. You may have noticed that she and Dominic lack… er—a certain—rapport.”

That was a nice way to put it. Since Melanie had brought up the subject of their mother, Kate gave in to her morbid curiosity about the life and times of Dominic Knight. “Dominic told me a little about his childhood.” She watched Melanie’s face in the event it was a forbidden topic. “He mentioned the therapists.”

Melanie’s head jerked up. “He did?”

“Forgive me,” Kate said quickly. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. Really, it’s none of my business.”

“No, please, it’s not that. I’m just surprised.” Melanie was barely breathing, visibly pale. “Nick never speaks of those days.”

“I may have pressed him… just a little,” Kate replied, softly apologetic. “Although he didn’t seem to mind.”

“Obviously, if he told you what he did.” Melanie gave her head a little shake, as if settling the dust from those undecipherable years. “It seemed like the nightmare would never end,” she said so softly it was barely audible. “Although it was so much worse for Nick.” She dragged in a breath. “It was really hateful.”

“I can imagine… actually I can’t,” Kate said bluntly. “He was so young. I can’t fathom… all those years of”—she didn’t know where to look when she wanted to say, All those years of torture.

Melanie sighed, set her glass aside, clasped her hands together, and kept her gaze on her tightly clenched fingers. “I was too young to do more than offer him comfort. I wish I could have done more. I felt so helpless.” She looked up, unclenched her fingers, smiled a tiny desolate smile. “But Nick wasn’t completely defenseless even then. He was always very strong. Iron-willed. Determined.”

“I don’t know how strong you can be at six. I mean… six, Jesus—oh, hell, sorry. It’s not your fault.”

“You’re right to be appalled,” Melanie said, her voice very small, her brows drawn together as though recalling the anguish. “I’ve always felt that Nick should have been born into a different family where… well—just a different family. One that celebrates independent children.” Her sudden smile was fragile, strangely touched with humor. “Although, from the very beginning, Nicky was remarkably… active, actually activist—like a one-baby revolt. He was unbelievably demanding. He never cooed or gurgled, he screamed the house down through four nurses and two au pairs. I was the only one who could hold him, make him smile, silence his screams. I’d sit beside him and read to him while the nurses fed him or he wouldn’t eat. So I was taken out of school and privately tutored until Nick entered preschool at three.”

“Jeez.”

She laughed softly. “You see what you’re in for? Nick’s always been very willful. It’s how he survived. And since he had so little control as a child, his need for control now is huge. He treats my family as a special case—as his special dispensation. But in general”—she rolled her eyes—“watch out.” A smile flickered across her face. “Now I hope I haven’t frightened you away. Really, Nicky has very nice manners.”

“I’ve noticed. And don’t worry, he doesn’t frighten me. But I have no expectations,” Kate said. “I’m just enjoying his company.”

Melanie picked up her drink and took a sip, as though giving herself time to find the right words. “You may or may not know this,” she finally said, “but you’re the only woman who seems to have gotten through to him. Just the fact that you’re staying at Nick’s house—that house, and he brought you to my birthday tonight is really… unprecedented. So I worry that you may be able to hurt him,” she said, her gaze that same clear blue as Dominic’s. “He has vulnerabilities.”

“I doubt I can hurt Dominic. If anyone’s going to be hurt, it’ll be me. His track record with women”—Kate shrugged—“isn’t reassuring. But honestly, I don’t know what he wants. We’ve known each other for only such a short time.” It was easier to be objective with Dominic out of sight; his physical presence stripped her of her clarity.

“But you like him.”

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