CHAPTER 17.

"I didn’t want his damned thanks!’’ Damon was prowling the length of the patio overlooking the pool where Lucia was sitting and watching while Alex paddled in the shallow water.

She’d seen Damon coming and had sent her own prayer of thanks winging heavenward.

She’d had visions of him dropping his father off at the hospital, then taking straight off for London, figuring he’d done more than enough, and washing his hands of the whole mess.

But he was here. Limping. Irritated. Irascible. Annoyed. But here. And Lucia breathed a sigh of relief.

"I know,’’ she said softly now. "But keep your voice down or Alex will hear.’’...