Free Once in Paris by Diana Palmer

if Kurt…well, if he fought me for custody, Brianne. You know I’d lose. I haven’t any money of my own. Please! If you won’t do it for my sake, do it for Nicholas’s! You must know what sort of life he’d have without me.”
    The sad thing was, she did. Nicholas would grow up at the mercy of a man who had none. She frowned worriedly as she finished buttoning her blouse over her small breasts. She turned and stared at her mother with sad eyes. “You used to say that all you needed to be happy was a lot of money. Do you still feel that way?”
    The older woman paled. “I was tired of being poor,” she replied bitterly. “Of havingnothing and working all hours. Your father had no ambition at all!”
    â€œNo, but he had a kind heart and a generous soul,” Brianne replied quietly. “He would never have raised a hand to you.” Her face hardened as she looked at the woman who’d raised her but never loved her or cared what happened to her. Certainly Eve hadn’t treated her as she treated the baby, cuddling him and kissing him and rushing to satisfy his every whim. It was a painful reminder that she hadn’t been really wanted, or loved.
    â€œYou repaid my father’s love and loyalty by leaping into Kurt Brauer’s arms barely a month after his funeral,” Brianne said, thinking aloud. “You can’t imagine how I felt about that.”
    Her mother’s face was a study in shock. She put a hand to her throat. “Why…Brianne,” she said huskily. “You never…you never said a word.”
    â€œWhat would have been the use?” Brianne’s face was as sad as her voice. “You didn’t care about my feelings, or my grief. You wouldn’t wait and risk losing Kurt and all his money.”
    â€œHow can you speak to me in such a way?” Eve asked huskily. “You’re my own child!”
    â€œAm I?” she asked with real pain. Shesearched her mother’s brittle, beautiful face. “I don’t remember that you ever cuddled me or held me when I cried, or did anything except criticize me and wish me out of the way.”
    Eve, for once, didn’t have a comeback. She looked confused, unsettled.
    â€œMy father loved me,” she said with icy pride. “He kissed the hurt places and took me to see art shows and concerts even when he could barely afford it. You did nothing except complain that he was spending time with me that he could have spent working his way to a promotion.”
    Eve frowned, searching the face of this stranger in the room with her. “I didn’t realize that you wanted to be with me,” she said uncomfortably. “You never seemed to like me very much.”
    â€œNor did you like me. I wasn’t beautiful.” The words came out much more forcefully than Brianne meant them to, but there were years of pain behind them.
    Eve swallowed. She clasped her hands at her waist, which was still a little full despite the baby’s age. “If you had your hair properly styled and used makeup and wore the right kind of clothes…”
    â€œYou might love me?” Brianne asked with a hollow laugh.
    Eve actually winced. She took a single step forward with her hand lifted, but it was too late. Years too late. The barely perceptible gesture of conciliation was completely ignored.
    Brianne gathered her purse from her bed and snapped it shut. She couldn’t think of anything else to say.
    â€œWhere are you going?” Eve asked helplessly.
    Brianne glanced at her. She didn’t dare risk telling her mother the truth. “My friend Cara from school is in town just for the afternoon. I promised to meet her for lunch.”
    â€œOh. Oh, that’s fine, then,” Eve said. She forced a smile. “Now, don’t worry. Everything will be all right here. It’s just this business deal upsetting Kurt. He’ll be fine once the pressure is