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I stagger forward with a startled yelp when the door behind me opens abruptly, and Theo appears, looking no less concerned than when I scampered away. Pulling myself together is of paramount importance before I clue Theo in to what’s got me all jumpy and anxious. I’ll never be able to explain without going into the sordid details. Theo will lose it. I can’t say that I wouldn’t like to see the nasty bastard in pain, but I also don’t want my past being dredged up. I don’t want Theo to know what he did. It’s shameful, disgusting. Unthinkable.
But amid the chaos of my mind, I manage to note something. My fear is more about having to tell Theo about my horrid past, rather than fear of what that man might do to me, how he might hurt me again. Because I’m stronger now, I know I am. And because with Theo by my side, he can’t touch me. But Theo can touch him. And crush him. Possibly even kill him. Possibly?
‘Hey,’ I squeak, swallowing and straightening my spine. I’m fooling myself. I’m spooked, and he knows it.
‘What’s going on?’ His T-shirt is in his hand, and he’s in no rush to put it on.
‘Nothing’s wrong.’ I divert my gaze from his magnificent chest, looking as guilty as I sound.
He growls. ‘Either tell me what’s got you behaving like a frightened animal, or I’ll go back in there and find out for myself.’
Panic makes a feast of me, eating me up from the inside out as I face Theo. ‘I just want to go.’ I reach for him without warning, and he catches my hand, holding it tightly. It’s comforting me, but it’s also warning me.
His lips straighten and his neck muscles bulge from the strain of his clenched teeth. ‘Don’t make me go back in there, Izzy.’
My bottom lip begins to quiver, annoying tears brimming in my eyes. The sight of me in such a state obviously tips him over the edge, and he whirls around, fighting to get his T-shirt on as he steams back into Stan’s private studio. ‘Theo!’ I yell, rushing after him. ‘Theo, please!’ I go to grab him, but my mind stops me, telling me that his growing rage will hinder his awareness of me. I break into a sprint and overtake him, slamming my back into the door that will take him into the waiting area, blocking his way. ‘Please,’ I gasp, shaking my head as I look across to Stan. He’s observing quietly, probably wondering if Theo is about to destroy his shop in a temper.
‘Talk to me, Izzy,’ Theo demands, placing a palm against the wood beside my head. ‘Now.’
Closing my eyes, I search for the strength I need to unravel my tangled thoughts and figure out what to do for the best. ‘I’ll tell you,’ I breathe, deciding the promise of information is the best way to coax Theo away.
I haven’t seen him for nearly ten years, and if I’m lucky, I won’t ever again. I just need to get Theo out of here before he makes my presence known to the bastard or I’m forced to explain. ‘Just not here and now.’ I open my eyes and let him see the pleading in them. ‘When we get back to your place, I’ll tell you.’
His nostrils flare, and he glances out the window. Theo knows there’s someone in that room I’m distressed to see. He knows he wants to do that person damage, even before he knows why I’m so upset.
I wait, anxious, and after a few tense moments, Theo pushes off the door and seems to realign himself. He seems to. But I know him, and I know it’s taking everything in him not to barge into the waiting room and hunt down what’s spooked me. ‘Let’s go.’ He turns and strides out, leaving me to follow, like if he delays his escape, he might change his mind and do serious damage.
‘Good luck,’ Stan says on a sympathetic, nervous laugh.
‘Thanks.’ My nerves are totally frayed as I follow my big, highly tense man back to the car, the silence agonizing. I settle in the passenger seat of Theo’s Bentley and look straight ahead, avoiding the pulsing body next to mine.
He curses under his breath and starts the car, pulling out of the space with a roar of the engine and speeding off down the road. His mood only reinforces my decision to get him away from my past so there’s no chance of it tarnishing my present. I want to pretend that part of me doesn’t exist.
The drive back to Theo’s home is long and difficult. He’s wound up like a tight spring, and I fear the damage he could do if the resistance gives and he lets loose.
Jefferson looks surprised when he meets us under the canopied drive, but he lets Theo guide me past without a word. The housemaid isn’t waiting in the entrance hall with his drink, ready to take his coat, and the two big dudes who always flank the door are missing. I’m led up the stairs, into his private quarters, and the door is virtually slammed behind us.
