Unbreakable Bond & The Missing Twin: Unbreakable Bond / The Missing Twin

She felt his eyes boring into her face, but she couldn’t quite look at him. “It’s really such a cliché. Shy girl goes to prom with the big guy on campus. Gets pregnant. He goes back to the girl he really loves.”

Slade muttered an obscenity. “But Mitzi didn’t take the pregnancy so well?”

She laughed again. It was either laugh or cry. And she would never cry again over Mitzi or William Hood. “No. She spread the word at school that I was a whore. That I’d thrown myself at William and promised him sex if he’d take me to the prom.”

In spite of her resolve to overcome the bitterness, it resonated in her voice. “That’s when my father moved me out of town.”

Another dark, seething look passed over his face, settling into his deep brown eyes. Eyes that looked permanently angry at the world.

And now angry at her.

She stiffened her spine. She didn’t give a damn if he was angry with her or not. She’d hired him to do a job.

And she’d put up with anything he threw at her, even his ridicule, his pity, his disbelief, as long as he followed through.

Finding out the truth about Peyton was the only thing that mattered.

* * *

SLADE CONTEMPLATED WHAT he’d learned about Nina, William Hood and his wife, as they wound up the mile-long drive to Nina’s father’s estate.

Hood was a first-class bastard, his wife a major bitch.

But that didn’t necessarily mean they were lying, just that they’d been young, selfish, immature and relieved to be free of an unwanted child.

He tried to put himself in their places, but empathy wasn’t his style, not for spoiled rich kids whose priorities were majorly skewed.

And not when they were so callous toward an innocent baby.

Especially Hood, who’d shared the child’s blood.

Slade surveyed Nash’s house as he pulled in front of the circular drive. Pristine gardens, sculpted bushes, ornately carved molding and granite lion statues adorned the front of the mansion, a massive white antebellum reproduction set in the midst of ancient oaks and a pond complete with ducks, as well as a massive outdoor patio obviously designed for entertaining.

“Your father must be doing quite well.”

“I suppose,” Nina said in an oddly distant voice.

“You don’t know?”

“He’s in banking, finance, stocks. He did well in the past, but I haven’t kept up with him in a few years.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t see each other regularly?”

A sad look flickered in her eyes. “No. As a matter of fact, we haven’t talked in…months.”

Slade’s opinion of the man slipped another notch. “Then he’s going to be surprised to see us,” he said.

Nina opened her car door and climbed out before he could reach it, but the shudder that coursed up her body confirmed that she dreaded this confrontation.

After the ordeal with Hood, he understood her anxiety.

He’d been rough on her in the car, as well. But dammit, he didn’t want to be made a fool of or go on a wild chase.

Instincts urged him to pursue the case anyway, to find out the truth for Nina once and for all.

Then he could walk away with a clear conscience.

* * *

NINA WILLED HERSELF to be strong as they walked up the immaculate drive to the steps to her father’s house. This place had never been her home.

Her home was the bungalow in Sanctuary where she’d hoped to raise her little girl.

Slade punched the doorbell, and she breathed deeply, desperately relying on the relaxation exercises she’d learned in therapy. But her palms were sweating, her heart racing, painful memories assaulting her like a knife digging into her heart.

Just like the knife in the doll’s chest…

The door opened, and Miss Mosey, the housekeeper her father had kept for the past twelve years, looked shocked as she spotted Nina.

“Miss Nash, we…had no idea you were coming.”

“I know, Miss Mosey,” Nina said softly. “Is Father here?”

The woman’s brows pinched together. Nina had once had affection for the older woman, and thought she might be an ally when she’d discovered her pregnancy, but her father’s money had obviously meant more to her than Nina’s feelings.

“I’m afraid he just left for the office. He had a luncheon at two and wanted to tie up some things there first.”

“Thanks,” Nina said. “We’ll stop there then.” She started to turn to leave, then paused and touched the woman’s hand. One of her therapists had suggested that forgiveness would help her heal. “It’s good to see you again. I hope you’re doing well.”

Tears suddenly glittered in the woman’s eyes, and she surprised Nina by pulling her into a hug. “I hope you are, too, dear. You and your father should make peace. He misses you so much.”

Nina’s pulse stuttered, and she hugged the woman back then turned to leave, unable to speak.

By rote, she recited directions to her father’s office, contemplating Miss Mosey’s comment as Slade crossed traffic into town. Did her father really miss her? If so, why hadn’t he tried to contact her?

Slade turned onto Glenwood Avenue, then located Nash’s office, a two-story brick building in the heart of the downtown area. He parked in the adjacent parking lot, and they walked to the entrance in silence. Her father hated to be interrupted during business, and Nina considered turning around, but Slade took her arm as if he sensed her anxiety and they went inside the building.

A pretty red-haired receptionist wearing a short, black pencil skirt greeted them from the counter where she was pouring coffee. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, I’m Nina Nash. I’m here to see my father.”

“Oh, you’re Mr. Nash’s daughter,” the young woman said with a startled look. “I’m Rochelle. It’s nice to meet you. I’ll tell him you’re here.”

Nina wondered faintly if her father was sleeping with the young woman but dismissed the thought. She didn’t really care about his personal life. He’d dated dozens of women since her mother’s death, but never committed to anyone.

Nina watched Rochelle disappear up the steps with the coffee, her long legs stretching beneath the skirt. A minute later, she returned with a wary smile. “He says to go on up.”

Slade placed his hand on the small of her back as she climbed the steps, but her stomach fluttered with nerves. Her father’s diplomas, photos of business acquaintances and newspaper clippings about his deals lined the walls.