He turned on the light in the foyer and pressed the button for the speaker on the security panel by the front door.
“Yes?” he asked and listened to the static that seemed satisfyingly heavy.
Finally, Carver Austin demanded to know, “Is my daughter there?”
Prentice grinned before saying, “Carver, it’s late. If you want to see Elle while she’s in town, call her. We’ll meet you for lunch.”
“Let me up,” Carver commanded.
“No. It’s late. Elle’s sleeping.”
“Cameron, I’ll stand here all night pressing this infernal button, damn it, let me up.”
“Suit yourself,” Prentice replied casually and hit the button to buzz him up.
He looked back into the apartment filled now with boxes.
Although Elle’s apartment was large, roomy and had an amazing view of Chicago, it was pristinely clean and decorated in a beautiful but cold way that was vaguely unwelcoming. It was as if it was a show apartment, meant to be viewed not to be lived in.
Upon entering it, he’d felt a not vague at all sense of alarm at the thought of his Elle inhabiting this impersonal space until he’d seen Elle nervously surveying her own home likely looking at it through Prentice’s eyes.
So he’d kissed her, open-mouthed and long, even in front of the children.
“All right,” Jason said, cutting their long kiss shorter than Prentice meant it to be, “I said you could snog but I’m thinking I didn’t mean it.”
Sally giggled.
So did Elle.
And her nervousness, something that Prentice noted was always at the surface, sometimes minutely, sometimes acutely, slid away.
At least, Prentice thought, he hadn’t seen her clench her fists, not since the night she burned her hand.
That, he hoped, was something.
There was a knock on the door and Prentice opened it.
At the sight of Prentice, Carver’s face paled before it flushed with anger.
Prentice watched Carver’s jaw tense as he pushed in asking, “Where’s Isabella?”
He closed the door behind Carver but Prentice didn’t guide them out of the foyer. “As I said, she’s sleeping. Is there something you’d like me to tell her?”
Carver started to move to the hall. “I’ll speak to her directly.”
Prentice was stunned that this man thought he could stride into Elle’s home in the middle of the night, wake her up and have an unpleasant chat.
Hell, he was stunned Carver seemed to think it was his due that he’d woken Prentice and treated him like an unwelcome butler so he could have his f**king chat with his daughter.
However, he didn’t allow either reaction to delay him from curling his fingers around Carver’s upper arm, stopping his advancement.
Carver’s eyes went to Prentice’s hand and then to Prentice’s face. “Take your hand off me.”
Prentice didn’t do as he asked. “You’ll no’ be waking her. If you have something to say, say it to me. Then leave.”
“I said, take your hand off me,” Carver repeated.
“As it’s the middle of the night, my guess is you have something on your mind. Share it so I can get back to Elle.”