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CHAPTER TWELVE
NICO FOUND HIMSELF checking his watch for the umpteenth time. Rosa should have returned to their suite hours ago.
He would not check on her. Even he had been able to recognise the ‘get lost’ vibes she had been expelling. Although it went against the grain, he knew he needed to respect her need for space. If he had considered her needs in the first place he would never have got them into this mess.
Leaving her alone for the day had been a bad move on his part. Who could blame her for working all the hours humanly possible when such darkness resided in her head? And why the hell hadn’t he left all talk of divorce until they were back on terra firma?
But how could he have lived with himself if he had continued to make love to her knowing she believed things between them were something they were not?
Nausea rolled in his stomach with the same motion as the rolling yacht. The incoming storm was proving strong enough to overpower the state-of-the-art stabilisers. He hoped Rosa wasn’t outside in it.
Turning onto his side, he stared at her pillow before rolling back and staring at the ceiling. He took another look at his watch.
Screw it. He would never get any sleep until he knew she was all right.
He pulled on a pair of shorts before walking down the steps to the second deck. The saloon was empty. All the rooms on the deck were empty.
The thick storm clouds that had been brewing over them had burst; fat drops of rain were falling like a sheet, the noise almost deafening. His concern was on the verge of turning into something deeper when he spotted her outside. She was leaning on the railings, gazing out into the black nothingness, seemingly oblivious to the wind and rain lashing around her.
His fear should have been allayed by the sight of her. Instead his pulse surged. There was something about the way she stood and her dishevelled appearance that raised his antennae.
He opened the door and stepped out into the storm. ‘What are you doing out here?’ he asked, forced to raise his voice to be heard over the crashing waves.
She spun around to face him, clutching the tall glass of clear fluid in her hand. ‘Nothing.’
‘Nothing?’ He searched her face, his heart plummeting at the desolation he found there. Deliberately he kept his voice even and non-threatening. ‘Please, Rosa, come away from the railing.’
‘I’m not in the mood for your company.’
‘Have you been drinking?’
‘What’s it to you?’ she said stiffly. ‘Now, please leave me alone.’
‘Vodka and low railings do not go together—especially in a storm.’
‘Why? Are you worried I might fall overboard?’ She shook her head and rolled her eyes. ‘Please, Nico, don’t act as if you care.’
He winced. ‘Of course I care.’
Any desolation cleared, her face transforming into an animalistic snarl. The glass in her hand went sailing past him and shattered on the wooden deck. Before he could process what she had just done she roared at him. ‘How dare you come out here pretending you give a damn about me?’
Stunned at her words and actions, he blinked in astonishment. Nico had barely heard Rosa raise her voice before.
‘Well? Are you not going to answer me?’ she shouted. ‘Or are you too busy thinking of some more good excuses to justify dumping me?’
‘I didn’t dump you...’
‘Don’t you dare lie to me!’ she screamed, pounding her fists against his chest. ‘Don’t you bloody dare! I should have known better than to trust you! You’re just like everyone else!’
‘Rosa, stop it!’
Somehow he managed to gather her wrists together and pull her under the overhang, away from the pouring rain. She struggled. When he refused to relinquish his hold she kicked him in the shins. It would have hurt, but her wet feet were bare.
‘Rosa, stop,’ he commanded.
Whether it was the authority in his tone or her complete inability to wriggle out of his hold, she stopped struggling and gazed at him. To his horror, her magnified eyes filled and her chin wobbled a fraction.
‘Tell me what’s wrong with me,’ she said, her voice now little more than a whisper. ‘Please—just tell me. What is so wrong that no one wants me?’
He shook his head and swore under his breath. ‘Rosa, there is nothing wrong with you.’
For a moment she looked as unsure and vulnerable as a child. Relinquishing his hold on her wrists, he reached a hand to her shoulder, but she stiffened at his touch and shrank away, back into the deluge.
The driving rain saturated her, making her appear smaller and more vulnerable than anything he could have conjured in his darkest nightmares. She seemed oblivious to it. ‘All I’ve ever wanted was to feel as if I belong somewhere. But there is nowhere for me. I tried with Stephen. I really, really tried. But it wasn’t there. I wanted to love him but I couldn’t, and I hurt him. I hurt him as badly as my mother hurt me.’
