“The world is speculating on the whereabouts of Juliet Fox, six-year-old daughter of troubled Hollywood actress Lana Fox, who died a month ago in a plane crash along with the man everyone assumes was one of her lovers. Rumor has it the child is staying with a friend or relative in an unknown location.”

The carton of eggs slipped from her fingers and crashed onto the floor, spreading the contents in a sticky mess. “You saw the newspaper.”

“I was looking for a reason for your abrupt departure.”

Trying to think through the panic, she sank onto the nearest chair, ignoring the puddle of eggs congealing on the floor. “I came here because I thought we’d be safe.”

“Safe from what? I assume you’re her guardian.”

“Yes, although as you can see, I’m not the right person for the job.” She gripped her knees until her knuckles were white, and Ryan dropped to his haunches in front of her so they were eye level.

“Why aren’t you the right person?”

“Do you want a list? First, I lose the bear, then, I risk exposing her by taking her out in public. I shouldn’t have said yes to the drink.” There was another reason why she knew she wasn’t the right person, the most important reason of all, but that wasn’t something she intended to share.

“I was the one who invited you for a drink.”

“The responsibility was mine. You didn’t know.”

His eyes were dark velvet, his voice calm. “Are you seriously planning to hide away?”

“What choice do I have? I don’t want the press to know we’re here.” She took a deep breath and tried to steady herself. “I talked to a bunch of people who have been with her since the accident. Lawyers, case workers, grief counselors. My head was spinning, so goodness knows what hers was doing. But the message I took from it all was that she needs to live as normal a life as possible. No media attention. No cameras. It freaks her out. There were great packs of them outside the house. One of them even got inside and cornered her, trying to get information about her mother. He’s the one that scared her the most. Can you believe someone would actually do that? She’s six years old. Six. I have to protect her from that.”

His expression unreadable, he rose to his feet. “They told you her life needs to be as normal as possible. Not going out isn’t normal. A child can’t live her life trapped in a house and neither can you.”

“I think she used to spend a lot of time in her old house, although of course, it was more of a palace than a house, and she had everything she needed within those walls and staff.”

“You think? So you don’t know her that well?”