Zandra laughed caustically. “After all these years, you’re still blaming others for your cruelty. What a pathetic excuse for a man you are.” She pointed to the door. “Get the hell out of my sight before I call security.”
He wavered another moment, then turned and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.
It was only then that Zandra lowered herself into the nearest chair and slowly brought her hand to her stinging cheek. It hurt, but the pain radiating through her heart had nothing to do with any blow she could ever receive from her father.
Half an hour later, she was on her way out the door when Remy showed up.
She was wearing wide-lens sunglasses, so he couldn’t see the swelling flesh around her upper cheek.
“Hey.” He smiled, backing her into the apartment. “Looks like I caught you just in time.”
She frowned. “I’m really gonna have to talk to the concierge about letting you up without my permission.”
Remy’s smile faltered. “What’s wrong?”
“You obviously haven’t been watching the news,” Zandra snapped.
“I haven’t. After I got home, I took a shower and had some phone calls to return.” He searched her taut face. “Why? What’s going on?”
She took a deep breath that burned, then blurted out, “Have you been investigating my escort agency?”
He was taken aback. “Who told you that?”
“Don’t worry about it. Just answer the damn question.”
His guilty expression spoke volumes before he answered quietly, “Yes.”
The floor tilted beneath Zandra’s feet. She’d wanted him to deny it. Had fervently prayed that he would deny it.
Reeling with shock and confusion, she stared at him. “How...how could you?”
Remy looked as if he were in acute pain. “It’s not what you think.”
“Then what is it, Remington?” she demanded furiously. “Help me understand how you could go behind my back to investigate my agency.”
He swallowed hard. “Can we just sit down and—”
“You son of a bitch!” she exploded, ripping off her sunglasses. “How could you do this to me? I trusted you!”
Remy froze, staring at her in shocked horror.
Too late, she remembered her injured cheek.
“What happened to you?” Remy whispered.
Zandra didn’t respond.
As he reached out to touch her face, she jerked her head back and demanded, “Don’t.”
The savage fury that hardened his eyes chilled her to the bone. “Goddamn it, Zandra,” he growled. “Who hit you?”
She scowled. “Don’t change the sub—”
“Who. Hit. You?”
She hesitated, alarmed by the lethal menace in his voice. “It was my father.”
Remy’s face contorted with rage.
Zandra gulped hard. “Look—”
Without another word, Remy pivoted sharply on his heel and stalked off.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Where’s Kennedy?” Remy snarled, barging his way past the startled butler who opened the door to him.
“Is Mr. Kennedy expecting you?”
Ignoring the snooty old man, Remy strode through the cavernous foyer of the sprawling mansion, his boots crashing against the polished hardwood floor. As his thunderous gaze swung toward the sweeping staircase, the butler started forward indignantly.
“Sir, Mr. Kennedy is not avail—”
Hearing the sound of voices raised in argument, Remy took off down the arched hall, following the commotion to the open doorway of a huge, wood-paneled library.
Landis Kennedy stood by the fireplace shouting and waving a leather-bound book at a visibly distressed servant.
The butler came up behind Remy. “Sir, I must ask you to leave this moment.”
Kennedy and the red-faced servant whipped their heads toward the door. When Kennedy saw Remy standing there, his eyes bulged in shock.
“What the hell are you—”
Remy shot a hard glance at the servant. “Leave.”
The woman took one look at his ominous expression and scurried across the room. She gave him a wide berth as she went out the door and closed it behind her, taking the sputtering butler with her.