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His confession in the garage had afforded her a glimpse into the man he was today. She now truly understood why he was so ferociously protective of Rafael. And why she couldn’t afford for him to find out the true depth of her feelings.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to vocalise what she’d been too afraid to say over the phone the night before.
‘Marco, I think I should leave. You can stay in Barcelona and not keep flying back here to see me. I can use the race track back home to train.’
His face clouded in a harsh frown. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’ Roughly he pulled her into his arms and kissed her again. ‘You’re not going anywhere.’
She tried to pull back but he held her easily. ‘But—’
His smile was strained through tiredness. ‘Rafael woke briefly last night. Only for a few minutes. But he appeared lucid, and he recognised me.’ The relief in his voice was palpable.
Sasha smiled. ‘I’m glad. But I think that’s even more of a reason for you to stay in Barcelona. What if he wakes again when you’re not there?’
Setting her free, he stabbed a hand through his hair. ‘He’s been moved to a private suite and I’ve set up video conferencing so I have a live feed into his room. Nothing will happen to him without my knowledge. I’ve also hired extra round-the-clock staff for when he comes home—including that nurse who was fired from the hospital in Budapest.
So, you see, I’m not a total ass.’
‘I know you’re not. But you’re splitting yourself in two when it’s really Rafael who needs you most now.’
‘Maybe I want to put my needs ahead of Rafael’s for once in my life.’ He threw his hands up in the air. ‘What exactly do you want from me, Sasha?’
She was unprepared for the question. But she had one of her own burning at the back of her mind.
‘What do you want from me? What is the real reason you want me to stay here? Am I here just so you can have sex on tap or is this something more …?’ She faltered to a halt, too afraid to voice the words traipsing through her mind.
His eyes narrowed. ‘I hardly think this is the time to be having a where is this relationship going? conversation.’
‘Is there ever a right time? Besides, you don’t do relationships, remember?’
He shrugged off his jacket and flung it onto a nearby chair. ‘I want you here with me. Isn’t that enough?’ he rasped.
Another question she wasn’t prepared for. Not because she didn’t know the answer. It was because she knew the answer was no. Wanting was no longer enough. She was in love with Marco: with the boy whose heart had been shredded by a heartless woman and the formidable man who’d loved his unborn child so completely he’d closed his heart to any emotion.
She loved him. And it scared the hell out of her. The urge to retreat stabbed through her. Marco’s obvious reluctance to discuss their relationship frightened her. But looking at him, his face haggard, his hands clenched on the desk in front of him, she knew she couldn’t leave. Not just yet. Not when he was so worried about Rafael.
‘I’ll stay,’ she said.
Naked relief reflected in his eyes. ‘Gracias.’ He pulled her into his arms. ‘Don’t mention leaving again. Even the mere thought makes me want to hurl something.’
She hated herself for the thrill of pleasure that surged through her. ‘It was for your own good—even if you don’t want to see it.’ And not just for Marco’s sake. She had to find the strength to walk away. Because the longer she stayed, the more she risked losing everything.
‘If you want suggestions on what’s good for me, I have several ideas—’ He stopped and cursed when his phone started ringing.
‘Before you start hurling things, I’ll remove myself to the garage. Your ‘65 Chevelle Impala’s chrome finish needs polishing.’
‘It also has extra wide front seats, if I recall.’
Desire weakened her. ‘Marco …’
‘Fine. But before you go—’
He plastered his lips against hers and proceeded to show her just how foolish her decision to leave had been.
By the time Sasha stumbled from the study she knew her heart was in serious trouble.
Marco threw himself into his seat two days later and barely stopped himself from punching a hole in the wall behind him.
Even though she’d changed her mind about leaving, Marco had sensed a withdrawal in Sasha he couldn’t shake. It was almost as if Rafael’s impending emergence from his coma had put a strain between them.
