AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She was softening towards him. She could feel it. And she didn’t like it one jot. It felt disloyal, as if she was somehow betraying her father by finding the enemy to be so human. And so damn sexy...
However it was dressed up, be it mutual blackmail or force, Pascha had given her no choice but to come to Aliana Island. There had been no option but for her to comply. Her desperate attempt to help her father had backfired so spectacularly, a firework could be made in its honour.
And yet in the short time they’d been together Pascha had shown more consideration towards her than she’d ever known. He’d sought her out at the waterfall because he’d been worried she would be hungry. He’d sought her out at the lagoon because of the storm, because he’d wanted to take her to safety. Even his anger at her snorkelling alone had been provoked by his concern for her well-being.
When had anyone last worried about her safety? When had anyone last worried about her full-stop?
For her own sanity she needed to hold onto her anger towards him.
But how could she hold onto her anger and hate when every time she looked up at him she found magnetic grey eyes holding hers and the nodules in her belly tightened that little bit more?
She waited until he’d cleared his plate before rising.
‘Sit down and relax,’ he said, gathering the plates together. ‘You’ve done your share. I’ll clear up.’
Only when his back was turned to her at the kitchenette did she exhale. It felt as if she’d been holding her breath the entire meal.
As she watched him load the dishwasher, admiring the tautness of his buttocks against the heavy cotton of his shorts, the strangest feeling crept through her veins, a fizzing, as if her blood had awoken and started dancing.
Disturbed by all these strange feelings being evoked within her, and determined to pull herself together, Emily decided she might as well take Pascha’s advice and relax. Taking another sip of wine, she put her bare feet up on his recently vacated chair.
‘You would make an excellent house-husband,’ she commented idly. He was wiping the work surface down with such thoroughness, she wouldn’t be surprised if the top layer was scrubbed away.
He gave a grunt.
‘I take it the thought of being a house-husband does nothing for you?’ Saying the words made her realise she knew nothing about his private life. Nothing. Was there a woman? Surely there must be? Regardless of his wealth, a man who looked like Pascha would attract pretty much any woman he fixed those grey eyes on.
Another grunt.
‘Do you think you’ll ever marry?’ she asked.
Pascha paused from wiping the side down to pin her with a stare. ‘What’s with all the questions?’
‘I’m bored,’ she lied with a shrug. ‘You’re the one who dragged me to a shelter where there’s nothing to do to pass the time.’
‘Can’t you be bored quietly?’
‘Why? Am I annoying you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good.’
His glare turned into a half-smile and a rueful shake of the head.
‘So are you going to answer my question?’
‘The answer is no. No, I don’t think I’ll ever marry. In fact, I know I won’t.’
‘That sounds pretty emphatic.’
‘That’s because it is.’
‘Why don’t you want to get married?’
He turned his head to spear her with a glance. ‘Why don’t you have a man in your life?’ he countered. ‘How long have you been single?’
‘Seven years.’
He leaned back against the work surface and folded his arms. ‘That long?’
‘Yep.’
‘Any flings?’
‘Nope. I work in the fashion industry. The vast majority of the single men I work with are gay. It’s rare I meet an eligible straight man.’ She tried her best to keep her tone light and nonchalant. Okay, so she was exaggerating, but it was the old tried and tested response she’d been using for years. Anything had to be better than admitting she’d given up finding anyone who didn’t make her feel inadequate. Who didn’t make her feel second-best.
She’d long accepted love would never happen for her. She’d grown tired of trying to find it. When her father had sunk into the dark depressions that had blighted her childhood, it had always been her mother who’d lifted him out of it, never his daughter. When he was at his lowest ebb, Emily might not exist. She’d never doubted his love for her but it had never been enough. She wasn’t enough. His suicide attempt had only reinforced that feeling. If she wasn’t enough to make her own father want to live, how could she possibly be enough for someone else?
