She nodded, a thread of tension unwinding from her thin limbs. This morning, she'd had all the righteous anger of a child to make her want to run away. From James. Maybe from both of them. But given a day or two, if not just a few more hours, she'd want to be home. She'd want the penthouse and her clothes and games and Sebastian's cooking.

And her father.

Looking back up at Sebastian, she reached out and slipped her small hand in his. "Did you go swimming?"