She hadn’t imagined they could be so carelessly cruel, even though her mother had regaled her with tales of the society she had once been a part of. A world where best friends were no more than backbiting enemies and trust was an illusion that only children were allowed to believe in. Rather like the tooth fairy.
She pulled back from him slowly, lifted her face, and gave him a careful smile. Another illusion. The lie that she was fine and it would only take moments to get over the shock.
She felt flayed, her flesh stripped to the bone as the family she had dreamed of for years had looked down their noses at her.
Had her mother ever been like that? Her grandparents?
Suddenly, she was incredibly glad that she hadn’t been raised to cherish and miss such a life as her mother had.
Francine Taite had grieved for the life and the family she had been stolen away from. The rare times she and Tehya had had together after their escape from the Fitzhugh estate, her mother had dreamed aloud of returning one day.
Until her parents had died, and within days, Francine had died as well.
“I believe this is why we avoid such events,” she whispered with amused conspiracy to him as he slowly released her. “So we don’t have to put up with the likes of the badgers such as Stephen and Craig Taite.” The hurt was there, thick and heavy, though carefully hidden.
She could joke about it, she could even pretend long enough to convince Jordan, that it didn’t hurt.
But Tehya knew better. It sliced her heart to ribbons.
His lips parted to speak when she caught a hint of movement from the corner of her eye.
It wasn’t an assassin, it wasn’t an attacker, a journalist, or any of the hundreds of people she would prefer to avoid.
Rather, it was the single member of the Taite family who seemed to have a heart rather than marble where a heart should be.
“Teylor.” Twenty-two, and suddenly uncomfortable, Journey Taite stood before them, dressed in emerald green chiffon and satin. The ball gown she wo
re was at once innocent and incredibly sexy.
Her long, wavy red-gold hair fell below her shoulders in thick, luscious waves, a far cry from the braid Journey wore at work.
“Hello, Journey.” Tehya felt Jordan’s hand at her back, comforting and warm.
Journey gripped the small clutch purse she carried with desperate hands as she stared back at Tehya, who knew exactly why the other girl was so apprehensive.
“We have a deal, Journey,” she assured her. “I won’t break it.”
The promise Tehya had made that she would never reveal to anyone that Journey worked for her, except the IRS.
Journey let out a slow, hard breath and within a blink of an eye, the natural vivacity that seemed to be so much a part of her, gleamed in her eyes once again.
“I’d hate to give Grandfather or Father, either one, a stroke,” she whispered confidentially. “Or do anything to dislodge the sticks up their bums.”
Jordan gave a small cough, an obvious attempt to cover his laughter.
For a moment, Tehya had to fight back tears, though. This girl was everything she had hoped her family would be. Warm, charming, filled with laughter and generosity.
“Are you adopted?” Tehya asked as they turned and headed back to the ballroom. “There’s no way you’re truly related to them.”
Journey grinned at the accusation before sobering. “Actually, my mother tells me often that I remind her of grandfather’s missing niece. She says I’m too much like my cousin Francine. Enough so that she worries one day that she’ll lose me as well.”
Tehya wanted to weep. She’d never really exchanged confidences with Journey for a reason. This reason. Because her memories of the past were still too painful.
“She’s missing?” Tehya asked as Jordan’s fingertips rubbed against her lower back in comfort.
“She was kidnapped more than thirty years ago,” Journey told her, her expression saddened. “She was killed about fifteen years ago. There’s rumors she had a daughter, but despite the family’s attempts to find her, she remains lost as well.”
Tehya made a noncommittal sound, listening rather than speaking as Journey discussed her family.