sat opposite him in the car—was that still his Frankie? He wished he knew.
Frankie was positioned a respectful distance away from the stables with Hanna and Peter. They were murmuring an easy conversation behind her, results from a big football game, and Tommy’s guards were taking the opportunity to catch up with a few members of Mark’s security on the far side of the stables. Despite the warmth of a hot summer’s day in the making, Frankie was cold clean through.
The drive here had been torture. Tommy’s stony questions and Kris’s hostile silence had been made worse by the truth behind this visit. Frankie had come between these brothers.
Throat thick, she turned at a movement from the mansion. Ava had emerged in a bumblebee-yellow dress and was making her way toward them across the hillside on the pebbled path. Darius, her three-year-old boy, was at her side. Black-haired and olive-skinned, they looked so alike Frankie ached.
Ava was different to when they’d first met, and it had nothing to do with that pixie haircut. Her posture was less rigid; her spine no longer a coiled spring. Her gait was smoother, her features relaxed.
Nearing, she waved to Frankie, gesturing her over, and Frankie lifted a hand in return, intentionally misunderstanding. Her goal was to blend with the guards, not expose herself beside the stunning and sophisticated Princess of Kelehar. Standing beside Ava made Frankie feel like scrawled graffiti on an otherwise unspoiled white fence.
Besides, her sense of inferiority was already off the charts today.
“Frankie,” Ava called, gesturing again. “Join us.”
God, okay. Striding out to meet them, Frankie tried to think of something to discuss. She’d never been a fan of small talk. The only possible purpose of asking a question when she didn’t care about the answer was to establish a subject for the next time she was obliged to ask a question when she wouldn’t care about the answer.
“Your Highness.” Frankie bowed before sliding a hand in the back pocket of her jeans. She glanced at Darius, who was blinking up at her from where he stood slightly behind the long skirt of Ava’s dress, holding a book in one hand. “Hello there,” she said, clueless about how to greet a small child. “You okay?”
He smiled.
“You’re not.” Ava was eyeing her with a frown. “You look terrible.”
Fantastic. Criticism on her appearance from a goddess. “Cheers.”
Ava gave a small roll of her eyes. “I was intending to convey sympathy.”
“Needs work.”
The woman sighed, but there was a smile hidden in there somewhere. “I’d like to invite you to my bridal shower next week.”
“Invite me to—” Frankie cut off with a baffled frown. “Why?”
“Because I’d like you there,” Ava answered, studying her. Then she reached back, gently touching Darius on the shoulder and steering him forward. “He wanted to say hello. He talks about you.”
Startled, Frankie deflected. “All bad things, I’m sure.”
“No bad things,” the princess said firmly. “He remembers you taking control that night. Remembers you sending him away with me.” She paused, arching an amused brow. “He also remembers that you were eating pizza.”
“Now that’s the kind of memory you keep close,” Frankie said, not sure what else to say. She offered the kid a grin and he returned it.
Oh, man. The trust in his smile physically hurt.
“He likes you.” Ava toyed with the gold engagement ring on her finger. “Don’t you, Darius?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Um.” Frankie gave a nod. “Awesome. Thanks.”
Ava cleared her throat, tilting her head downward pointedly.
Swallowing, Frankie knelt and softened at the boy’s closeness. He didn’t hug her, but stepped in and rested a hand on her leg as he held up the book. “I have a new book.”
“Looks slick. Where did you get it?”
“Ava gave it to me.”
Frankie nodded, noting that he still didn’t call Ava his mother. “Have you read it yet?”
“Yes.” But he crouched on the grass beside her and opened it, clearly expecting her to read it again with him.
“Uh.” Lord. Kids were about as familiar to her as a pair of loving arms. But this—how exactly did she say no to this? She cast a pleading, get-out-of-jail-free-card glance at Ava, but found the princess frowning at the stables. On her own, Frankie settled on her shins and gingerly drew the book closer. “Alright, just don’t spoil the ending.”
Darius leaned in as she started reading, fully resting against her thigh, and then, well, she hardly knew what happened. She wasn’t used to being touched by a child—feeling welcomed by innocence, and something neglected inside her