The_Color_of_Love_-_Radclyffe (Рэдклифф) - страница 75

Derian regarded her so seriously, for so long, Emily blushed. She wished she could read Derian’s mind at that moment and was happy Derian couldn’t read hers, especially since she’d suddenly started thinking about the kiss. Derian couldn’t imagine she meant that kind of help, could she?

The elevator doors opened onto the bustling lobby and saved her from worrying about how Derian might have interpreted her offer. Once outside, in the sunlight, away from the scent of antiseptic, disease, and death, they strode toward Central Park, dodging through the crowds while managing to stay close together. When the throngs got too heavy and threatened to separate them, Derian curled Emily’s hand through the crook of her arm as naturally as if they’d walked together a hundred times.

When they passed a street vendor roasting nuts, Derian slowed. “You know, I think I probably need to put something in my stomach. Cashews?”

“I confess,” Emily said, “I’m a little bit addicted to the honey-roasted ones.”

Derian grinned. “Done.”

She purchased two bags, handed one to Emily, and they walked on.

“When my mother died,” Derian said after a few moments of silence, “I was lucky. I had Henrietta to help me make sense of it all.”

“I envy you that,” Emily said softly. “Neither of my parents had siblings, so our family was a pretty small unit. My father was often away on business, or when he wasn’t, he was preoccupied with it. He loved us, I know that, but he wasn’t always present for us. My mother and my sister were my world.”

“Then we’re even—I envy you that.” Derian shrugged. “Of my parents, I was closest to my mother. I loved both of my parents as children do, looking to them for support and protection and praise.” She laughed, with no humor in her voice. “Although there was precious little in the praise department.”

“Parents sometimes have an odd way of showing their affection,” Emily ventured. “And some just don’t see their children, or see the worth of them. There’s certainly no excuse for holding something against you that wasn’t your fault.”

Derian cut her a glance, a wry smile softening the tight line of her jaw. “You’re very kind and very perceptive, and I appreciate you taking my side. I suppose the fault lies on both sides—I wasn’t a particularly appreciative child, at least not of the things that my parents could provide.” She lifted a shoulder. “Security, and good schools, and not wanting for any of the physical things. I realize I’m very lucky, and it’s totally undeserved. I was born into safety and wealth.” She laughed again and shook her head. “And complaining about my childhood now makes me sound like something of an ass.”