Free The Charmer by Autumn Dawn Page B

that she was lost, not abandoned.”
    Jasmine shrugged. “As if that matters to a
child.”
    “She’s no longer a child,” Jayems argued,
looking like he wanted to jump up and pace.
    She regarded at him for a long moment. “Wiley
never knew her mother growing up. Emotionally, when she thinks of
her, it’s with the feelings of a small child. She’s stuck in a time
warp, with no frame of reference to deal with the woman as an
adult.” Her thoughts turned inward. “You just don’t erase all that
in a day,” she finished softly.
    “How can I do that if she won’t even talk to
her?” Jayems demanded. “How can she learn to get over this if she
keeps running away?”
    Jasmine was silent. Mothers were not a topic
she ever cared to dwell on. Her own hurts were infected, painful
wounds, and she didn’t care to probe the hurts of others,
especially Wiley’s. Still, it was different, wasn’t it? Wiley’s
mother wasn’t going to drive her off.
    Wiley’s mother wanted her.
    Feeling a little sick, she wandered over and
gripped the back of a kitchen chair, very tight. Wiley’s mother
wanted her, and why wouldn’t she? Wiley was a wonderful person.
Anyone would be glad to have her for a daughter. And deep down,
past the pain and the fear of rejection, Jasmine believed Wiley
wanted to know her mother, too—needed to know her.
    She walked over to the bedroom and knocked on
the door. “Wiley.” Her voice lacked enthusiasm.
    There was a rustling noise inside. “I know
you can hear me, long ears.” No response. Jasmine slumped against
the door, feeling ninety years old. She braced one palm against it
and rested her head against the wood. She felt so tired. “You’re
going to see your mother, Wiley, because you’re not a coward. If
you need to hate her, at least have the decency to call her a bitch
to her face.”
    A growl came from Jayems’ direction, but she
ignored it. Eyes closed, she said hollowly, “I’d do it for you, Wi,
but dealing with one mother in a lifetime is all I have the energy
for. Just get it over with.” Utterly drained, she shuffled off to
her room; not caring as much as she should’ve that others saw her
weakness.
    Two hours later, she cared.
    Keilor found her wedged in a corner behind a
wing chair in her darkened room. She was curled on a cushion,
nursing her sense of worthlessness.
    He’d feared something like this, but a sense
of self-preservation and the need to keep Jayems from storming into
his wife’s room had stopped him from following her. Kisses were one
thing, but he was not ready for emotional intimacy with her, now or
ever.
    The sight of her so broken pained him in
frightening ways. To preserve his distance and to maintain control,
he responded with callousness.
    After all, it had worked so well on
Rihlia.
    “Lights.” He folded his hands behind his back
and regarded her with a cool stare. “It appears your tactics were
successful, charmer. My cousin has agreed to dine with her mother
this evening. She is selecting a dress as we speak, and she wishes
you to come and choose your own.”
    She closed her eyes and shook her head. “It’s
not my mother.”
    “I see. You’re content to prod her into
facing her demons, but too cowardly to stand at her side?” He
watched with satisfaction as her lip curled.
    She stood up slowly, one hand braced against
the wall as if to hold her back from kicking him. “I did this once,
and by myself,” she told him defiantly, before her eyes clouded.
“Wiley’s an adult, and she doesn’t need—”
    Not about to let her slip back into self-pity
since he’d gotten her this far, he stepped into her space. Boxed in
on all sides, she had no choice but to look at him.
    He let his eyes light with golden fire and
spoke with contempt. Fear would serve her better than pity, would
stir up constructive anger. “I order you to serve my cousin
tonight,” he told her with soft menace. “If you doubt my authority
to do so, I will gladly demonstrate