completely under his control. If he didn’t want to feel anything, he didn’t, and so there should have been no reason for a strange, unidentified feeling to coil in his chest. No reason for questions to suddenly occur to him, such as why she hadn’t been wanted, and whether she’d been adopted at last. But no, she hadn’t been adopted. If she’d been brought up by the nuns and was hoping to take her vows, then it was likely she’d remained in the foster home...
Why are you thinking these things?
It was a good question, especially when it made the unidentified sensation in his chest coil tighter.
He ignored it, annoyed at being made to feel anything at all. ‘And? You have a point to this?’
‘Of course I have a point.’ She frowned. ‘I don’t give people I don’t know well personal information about my childhood for the fun of it.’
You have offended her.
So? What did it matter? He didn’t care about his own feelings, still less other people’s. A king was supposed to rule with his head, not his heart.
Then again, offending people needlessly wasn’t diplomatic. Perhaps he should have got Xerxes to handle these interviews, since his brother was a lot more charming than he was.
If you can’t deal with one small novice, perhaps your detachment isn’t as perfect as you thought.
A cold sensation wound through him. No, he would not accept that. His father’s lessons had been brutal ones, but he’d learned them. Emotions in a ruler were a threat and one he couldn’t afford.
He had to do better.
‘Continue.’ He made an effort to keep the harshness of his temper from his voice.
She gave him a suspicious look then went on, ‘As I was saying, the nuns were distant and not particularly loving, and I felt lonely. As a consequence, I got into trouble quite a lot, since being disobedient got me more attention than sticking to the rules.’
That was probably the least surprising thing she’d said all evening. Especially given that rebellious spark that showed in her eyes. In fact, he could just imagine her in a strict foster home, racing around with flushed cheeks and a loud voice, arguing with the nuns and perhaps stamping her foot...
Warmth curled through him, a warmth he didn’t recognise. The same kind of warmth that had touched him when she’d smiled at him the day before. A spark flickering in the dead hearth of his heart.
He let it die. ‘So you’re saying my daughter is acting up to get attention?’
‘Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.’
‘An interesting theory, but you’re wrong.’ He sat forward again, glancing down at the screen so he wouldn’t have to look at her face, wouldn’t feel the tug of curiosity that pulled at him, making him want to ask her more about how the nuns had treated her, why she’d felt so lonely, and more about the ways in which she’d been disobedient.
You could get her to be disobedient. Very disobedient...
‘My daughter gets plenty of attention,’ he went on, shoving that particular thought aside. ‘She has many people who give her nothing but attention day in and day out. She’s—’
‘I believe she needs attention from you.’
Adonis blinked at his computer screen. This was the second time in as many days that she’d interrupted him.
Then what she’d actually said penetrated.
Attention from him.
You can’t give it.
No. At least not the kind of attention he thought Anna probably meant. He was not that kind of father. He was a king first and foremost, and everything else came second. Even his daughter. Already, he’d noticed that Ione was too much like he had been as a child. Wild and rowdy and demanding, her emotions all over the place, and he knew where that led. He had to make sure she didn’t make the same mistakes he had.
Attention wouldn’t cure that, only discipline could.
Adonis pushed his chair back and stood up, staring down at the little nun on the other side of his desk, knowing he was being deliberately intimidating and not caring. He would not have his decisions questioned, and certainly not by her. If she needed a lesson in respect, he would deliver one.
Her eyes widened as he stood, but she didn’t lower her gaze. Didn’t lower that insolent little chin either. She stood her ground, watching him as he stalked around the side of his desk, coming over to her and staring down at her from his far greater height.
‘I suggest, Sister Anna, that you remember your place.’ He