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Couldn’t they? Couldn’t those memories hurt? Couldn’t scars stop skin from stretching properly again?
‘So what did you do?’
‘I ran away,’ he said simply. ‘I was fifteen and I’d had enough.’
‘Where did you go?’
‘Milan initially. Then I travelled across Europe to London.’
‘You weren’t scared?’
‘All the time.’ He grimaced. ‘The thing I remember most is the hunger. That fear of not knowing where your next meal is coming from. Of not knowing where I was going to sleep that night. I remember making the decision and feeling that drive to get me there.’
‘You still feel that drive?’
‘Like it was yesterday. So if you want to analyse, you could say it’s the need for security that drives me.’
‘Financial security?’
‘What other kind is there?’ He shook his head and smiled as if she were totally naive. It wasn’t a nice smile. ‘Love doesn’t last when you’re starving and have nowhere to sleep. It doesn’t feed you or shelter you or even keep you warm. Not for long. You need money to survive.’
‘And that’s all you need? Just money?’
‘Some would say money can buy you everything else you need,’ he said. ‘It can’t for everyone. But it can buy all I need.’
She disagreed. She’d had shelter and warmth and food. But she’d had no love. And as a result, she’d had no life. Sure, she’d not been starved physically, but emotionally?
That hurt. In a different way for sure. But it still hurt. It still damaged.
She figured they both deserved more.
‘A fortress with a big wall,’ she said sardonically. Hiding away from the rest of the world wasn’t what anyone needed. Not for ever. He was as human as she. And humans needed companionship. They needed love.
She needed love—to give it and be given it.
‘Privacy. Space. Time.’
She almost laughed but it was too sad. ‘You don’t have any time. All you do is work.’
‘Work will always be my focus, I’m not going to apologise for that.’
She didn’t expect him to. She understood how important a fulfilling career could be. She just didn’t believe that he was as hundred per cent happy as he claimed. And of course he wasn’t with the injury he’d suffered.
‘No balance, then, huh?’
‘It’s what I like. It’s what gets me up in the morning. I like the challenge of it.’
‘There are other things you like,’ she argued. ‘You shouldn’t isolate yourself.’
‘And you’re the expert?’
‘I am, actually. I was isolated when I went to live with my uncle. I let that happen. I didn’t stay in touch with friends and people who could have helped me sooner. And I became so unhappy it was hard to help myself.’ She admitted her weakness. ‘I lost all my confidence. But now I’m getting it back and I won’t lose it again.’
‘Is that right?’ His voice lowered.
A frisson of danger rippled down her spine as he faced her.
‘What happened to make you lose that confidence? Who happened?’ He walked closer. ‘Was it your husband?’
‘Sorry?’ Zara asked, hoping she’d misheard him.
‘There’s no need to apologise,’ he muttered as he intently watched her. ‘Just tell me about your husband.’
Her scalp prickled. She supposed she’d asked for it, what with chiming in with her opinions on how he was living his life. But she really couldn’t answer his question.
‘Why did you marry him if he didn’t want you in “that way”?’ he prompted when she remained silent.
‘It was a convenience thing,’ she finally answered.
‘Convenience?’ Tomas looked mystified. ‘Was he gay and had a disapproving family or something?’
Did he think that because her husband didn’t want to have sex with her? She smiled wanly. ‘No, it was more complicated than that.’
His eyebrows shot up. ‘More complicated how?’
She should tell him, confess it all this second. But she couldn’t. How did she tell him how weak she’d been?
‘He helped me out of a situation...’ she began but faltered. She tried to walk past him but he reached out and snagged her hand.
‘You don’t want to talk about it?’ His thumb swept over the back of her hand. ‘Yet you ask me personal questions.’
‘I was curious. I’m sorry.’
‘No apologies,’ he reminded her with a low mutter. ‘I want to know more about you. You’re the most interesting woman I’ve met in a long time.’
‘We both know I’m the only woman you’ve met in a long time.’
‘And we both know that’s irrelevant.’ He drew her that little bit closer, but he didn’t pull her all the way into his arms. ‘Tell me.’
‘There’s not that much to tell.’ She tugged her hand gently but he didn’t release her. ‘It was never intended to be anything more than a temporary thing.’
His eyes narrowed on her. ‘But you cared for him.’
All the air left her lungs. He was too astute. And suddenly she was too scared.
‘More than he cared for me.’ She shook her head at Tomas’s frown. ‘That was okay. He was a nice person. He was honourable.’
‘Was?’ He looked concerned. ‘He died?’
Almost.
She bit her lip. ‘No, but he’s no longer in my life.’
Not for real. These few days didn’t count.
He let go of her hand. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Why?’
‘Because that saddens you.’
It did.
‘I think I’ve left the oven on,’ she invented, wildly flustered and too near to tears. ‘I’d better check it.’
CHAPTER NINE
‘She made her choices. Now you make yours.’
TOMAS LET HER RUN. It was obvious she was distressed and he didn’t want to upset her more. He walked into his office and closed the door, determined to shut her out and himself in. A low ache throbbed in his temples. He needed his peace, solitude and space back. But tumbling thoughts hounded him. He should not have pried. Why did he feel this nagging need to know everything about her? Let her keep her secrets. Heaven knew he had his. But God only knew why he’d blurted half of them to her just then. Telling her about his mother? About the stupid bullying he’d suffered as a kid? Why had he done that?
He’d been a child. It was over. He was over it all.
Yet for some reason he’d wanted to see her reaction. He’d wanted to shock her, to see if it would drive her away.
But she’d crept that bit closer, her big eyes holding such tender concern and inviting confession. Looking at her, he’d lost control of his own emotion. The scalding hurt that nowadays seemed to lurk so close to the surface had broken free and he’d spilled too many of his lit
tle secrets.
What a fool.
But she had her hurts too and that angered him more. The shadows in her eyes had darkened with wariness when his questions had got too direct.
That shouldn’t bother him, but it did. And the fact that he was bothered at all bothered him all the more. Because this fling with her meant nothing. It had to. He’d not got as far as he had, as quickly as he had, twice over, by getting distracted or invested in other people.
‘She made her choices. Now you make yours.’
Nonno Gio had been blunt to the point of cruelty, informing him that his mother hadn’t cared enough to want to keep him. That he was on his own. For years he’d not known that his mother had begged Gio to let her stay too. That it had been Gio who’d refused. Tomas had been led to believe she’d just dumped him and run.
‘It’ll be better here, Tomasso. You’ll be happy here.’
He remembered her voice. Remembered her crushing embrace. He’d been so angry because she’d lied. He hadn’t been happy. And so yes, for a long time he hadn’t forgiven her.
Because from the age of four he’d been tested again and again, through isolation and intimidation, unsupported through the trials with his classmates, even his cousins. Nothing he’d achieved had been good enough—not even when he’d topped his class in every subject, every damn year.
Nothing he did could pass as penance for his mother’s indiscretions. Gio just waited for him to slip up and if he ever did, he came down hard. And then, in the heat of another argument with the old bastard, Tomas had learned the truth. That his grandfather had forced his mother to choose between a certain home for Tomas without her, or a life with her on the streets. It had been no choice for her.
And no choice for him either. He’d run, hoping to find her. He never had.
He’d learned early on, more than once, that the only person he could truly rely on was himself.
Yet he’d not even been able to do that much in this last year. His amnesia had weakened him in a way he simply couldn’t tolerate. The only way for him to fight it and move forward was to focus on his company. To make it secure. To succeed. On his own.
Hours passed by incredibly slowly as he reined in his wayward concentration. A semblance of peace returned to him as he studied reports and checked on the market fluctuations. This was what he knew. This was what he did best.
