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A furtive glance at him showed him still relaxed. Intensely alert—because that was his natural state—but giving off an air of recreation that was...soothing. She almost laughed at the description.
Soothing and Seve didn’t go hand in hand. Was he making an effort?
Should she?
She frowned inwardly at her own flailing. ‘I’m at a loss as to where to start,’ she confessed reluctantly.
He nodded. ‘That suggests there’s a deeper meaning behind your choices?’
She shrugged, still unsure she should be baring herself like this. ‘Isn’t there always?’
‘No. Some nerds just prefer the stereotype,’ he said with a trace of amusement, which dissolved as he continued to watch her with hawkish eyes. ‘You’re not one of them.’
‘Probably because I’m not a nerd.’
‘No, you’re not. You’re much more,’ he said with the kind of matter-of-factness kings and gods tossed about with conceited abandon.
And, damn him, it had the desired effect. To know that he recognised the special circumstances behind her previous and present actions...mattered. So before she could think further on it, she blurted, ‘My parents used me for power and prestige from when I was six to fifteen.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
HESTIFFENED,his posture no longer as relaxed as it’d been seconds ago. He didn’t move much, but the intensity in his gaze increased, searing and searching, demanding more.
And Genie had no choice but to give now she’d opened the forbidden box of memories.
‘At first it was signing me up for quizzes and maths contests they said would help with bills and to pay for my educational equipment.’ She paused, the lump in her throat making it hard for her to swallow.
Superfluous emotion.
She wanted to bat it away but for the first time since Dr Douglas died, Genie found herself readily steeping herself in his counsel. Or was it because it closely echoed Seve’s own words the first time they’d been together?
‘Let yourself feel. Don’t try to rationalise it. Whether it’s pain or pleasure, feel it. Both heal.’
Yes. The voice started off as Dr Douglas’s and curiously grew deeper, accented, with distinct tones of the man watching her. Waiting for her to bare herself further.
She shook her head free of the muddling sensations. ‘It then grew to radio shows and TV appearances and international chess matches.’
A tic rippled through his jaw. ‘They were using your genius to line their own pockets.’ It wasn’t a question but a rapier-sharp statement.
The naked disapproval and quiet rage made more emotions unravel through her. ‘Yes. They had no clue how my brain worked or how to have the simplest conversation with me, but they were quick to brag about how much money my intelligence had made them in a particular financial quarter. And because I was a child, they controlled everything. So they could get a big house and employ a full-time minder to look after me while they travelled the world, spending the money they’d made off me.’
‘They neglected you,’ he confirmed through clenched teeth. ‘Completely.’
Again, Genie suspected she was letting herself down by basking in his righteous indignation on her behalf, but in that moment, she didn’t care. It felt...good. Hadn’t Dr Douglas urged her to accept that positive emotion in those rare moments it happened?
‘Yes, they did,’ she responded, sucking in a breath when something cracked in her chest. Perhaps it was finally speaking it out loud.
‘What happened when you were fifteen?’ he pressed.
‘They died in a boating accident. They were testing out a speedboat they’d leased during a holiday in the south of France when it overturned at high speed. They both drowned.’
A rumbling volcano blazed in his eyes. ‘Where were you? Tell me you weren’t with them?’
She shook her head, then shivered in recollection of the fear and abject loneliness she’d felt when the two policemen had delivered the horrible news. ‘I was at home, in the basement, writing security code for a Swiss bank they’d made a deal with. I couldn’t even stop to go and see my dead parents because they’d locked me into an impossible deadline. I finished it in time to attend their funeral.’ She paused, a part of her stunned that she was peeling back so many painful layers. But she was on a course she couldn’t abandon, like a string of code she had no choice but to see through to completion. ‘But that wasn’t the worst of it.’
His eyes swept down for a moment, then rose to pin her. ‘What was worse than burying your parents when you were fifteen?’
She couldn’t sustain the eye contact; his was too penetrating and Genie suspected hers probably showed far too much raw emotion. She hadn’t quite perfected the knack of hiding her feelings like him. Her gaze dropped to the gentle swell of her stomach.
