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’ve come from her.
They moved at the same time—she sideways, striking for the bed. Javier lunged in her direction, then veered sharply towards the door.
‘Wait.’
He froze. Turned.
‘I... I wish I didn’t have to ask, but...’
He frowned. ‘Spit it out, Carla.’
‘My zipper.’ She held up her immobilised wrist. ‘I won’t be able to reach it with this. Could you help me, please?’
He executed a smooth return to where she stood. ‘Are you sure you want my help? After all, it would involve me touching you. And I know how you feel about that,’ he jeered.
She lifted her chin. ‘Fine. I’ll get your butler to help me.’
Before the words were fully out, her waist was grasped in a firm hold. ‘Take one more step towards that door and I’ll make you regret it,’ he growled.
With a mere foot separating them, his warm breath washed over her face as he exhaled.
‘Seriously, stop tossing out threats like confetti. It’s getting old.’
One corner of his mouth quirked as he placed a finger beneath her chin and lifted her gaze to his. ‘You’ve got a little spark back. My investment may not be in danger, after all. Turn around,’ he rasped.
She held his gaze a second longer, suddenly unsure if this was such a good idea. Surely, staying in her clothes around him was better than what she was about to subject herself to? But changing her mind now was out of the question.
Swallowing, she presented her back to him. The air thickened, wrapping them up in a sultry heat as the seconds ticked by. His breath tickled her exposed nape, her body responding to that ephemeral contact by firing up her nerve endings.
His knuckles brushed her spine and Carla squeezed her eyes shut. The rasp of the zipper was amplified in the heavy silence, every inch of exposure making her heart race faster. The silk and lace teddy she wore beneath provided shockingly inadequate cover, her skin on fire from Javier’s gaze.
An eternity later, his hands dropped. ‘It is done.’ His voice was rough, barely civil.
He was gone before she’d exhaled the air trapped in her lungs. She stumbled to the bed and sank down, her chest rising and falling with an urgency that had nothing to do with her diminished health.
Limbs trembling, she kicked off her shoes, released her hair from its knot, tugged back the covers and slid into bed, grateful for the momentary peace to gather her thoughts.
All her life she’d been caught between a rock and a hard place—please her father or bear his wrath, achieve excellence at all costs or have a life. The feeling that she was once again caught in a pincer-like situation drew a ragged sob from her throat.
Mildly shocked at the tears once again filling her eyes, she dashed them away, but they fell faster, thicker. She firmed her lips. No way was she crying over her lot in life. She would heal. She would find a way out of the situation with her father. Most of all, she would discover once and for all what had happened to her mother.
Because she didn’t think she could live with the thickening shadow that she’d had anything to do with it.
CHAPTER FOUR
CARLA SURFACED FROM sleep to the sound of knocking. Momentarily disoriented, she tried to sit up, and winced as horrendous pain shot up her arm. Belatedly recalling her broken wrist, she adjusted herself and cradled her sore limb.
Another round of hard knocking shook the doors of the suite, before they swung open. Javier stood in the doorway, minus his jacket. With his sleeves rolled up, his arms were exposed in all their bronze, muscled glory.
She pried her gaze away from his arms and looked up as he approached. ‘By all means, come in,’ she muttered.
His features locked in a frown. ‘I’ve been knocking for several minutes. You didn’t answer.’
She hadn’t planned on sleeping, had lain in bed for almost an hour, lost in her thoughts before sleep had finally claimed her. She slid her hands through her hair, noting that, although her dreams had been troubled, she felt even stronger than before.
About to respond, she jerked back as Javier took her chin in a firm hold.
‘You’ve been crying. Why?’
