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“Perhaps Iam just inundated.”
“It’smore than that. I know you, darling.”
“Do you?”A smile touched his lips. “Perhaps I have decided I need thistime to get my head straight. It could be that, for the first time inmy life, I am sick and tired of living the way I had. He is dead, ishe not? This means I do not need to prove anything to him anylonger.”
“Darling-”
“No.” Heshook his head. “Let’s get in front of this, shall we? Hedid a number on both of us. He taught me how to be a world-classslut, and how to service more than one woman at a time. I became veryexperienced when I was barely sixteen. And in the process, we bothhurt you. It took me a long time to forgive myself for it.”
“It was notyour fault.” Elizabeth felt sick to her stomach at his wordsand the look on his handsome face. “You were a child.”
“Yes,well…” He picked up his glass and finished the wine. “Ishould not have brought it up, and now it has left a bad taste insidemy mouth.” Pushing back his chair, he rose. “I am goingfor a drive.”
“Brennan-”
“I have to go,Mother, and please don’t wait up for me.” he had reachedthe doors when he stopped, turned, and walked back towards her. “Iam fine,” he said softly, kissing her. “Don't worry.”
But she could donothing else.
*****
She was waiting forhim inside the practically empty living room.
“You turned theheat on.” he noticed with a smile as he shrugged off hisjacket. “Did you eat?”
“I did.”She entered his arms, and his hands were like steel bands around herwaist.
“Not yet.”He murmured when she tried to move away. “Let me hold you for abit.”
She could feelthe tension in his long, lean body. Her hands soothed his back andtried to knead away the tight muscles. “That’s good,baby,” he whispered into her hair. “Hits the spot.”
“Want to tellme what’s going on?”
Lifting his head, hehoisted her into his arms and went to sit on the armchair in front ofthe fireplace.
“Just aconversation I had with my mother at the dinner table.”
“It was thatupsetting?”
“The past, ourpast, is always upsetting,’ he told her with a smile. He couldfeel the tension ebbing away just by looking at her, being with herlike this. She was like an anathema to him, the calm to the roilingstorm inside him, and he was grateful that she was in his life.
“Your dad.”
He nodded. “Sheblames herself.”
“I am notcertain. I don’t blame her, too.”
His green eyesregarded her quizzically.
“I amsorry, darling, but she is your mother. She sat by and watched whileyour dad corrupted you.”
“Corrupted?”He mused. “Was that what he did?”
“What would youcall it?” She demanded.
“I supposethat’s the word for it. But you have to understand the kind ofperson he was. Bart Connelly controlled everyone. He was adomineering man who used his charms to get what he wanted.”
“That’sjust an excuse.”
