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It was odd the way he wanted her to know he was more than just that playboy—as inexplicable as that was—but when it came to telling her, showing her, the truth, he found he couldn’t contend with that either.
Because the truth made him feel ashamed. Lacking. It was a chunk of his life he would readily burn down, if only he could.
‘Because I like my playboy lifestyle,’ he lied with an aplomb that had been perfected over more than a decade.
And, possibly for the first time, he hated himself for it.
‘Do you really?’ she asked softly. ‘Only, I’m beginning to wonder, from all the things I’ve been hearing about you today, how you have much time at all for quite the number of amorous conquests your reputation suggests.’
‘I’m a skilled multitasker.’ He feigned a laugh.
Anyone else would have bought into it. Anouk stared at him, unfazed.
‘You’d have to be in two places at once. No one is that good at multitasking.’
It was as though she could see down to his soul.
He reminded himself that even if she did know some scraps of truth about him, that was all she knew. Scraps. Not the whole picture, and it would stay that way. However much he might loathe what he was about to do.
‘Trust me, Anouk, you’re not the first woman I’ve slept with who has mistaken sexual intimacy for a more profound connection, and thought it meant they understood me. But it’s just sex, nothing more.’
She blanched, making him feel the cad he knew he was.
Better that than this irrational ache he had to buy into her better opinion of him.
As the silence tightened around him, seemingly weighed down with anticipation, the last thing he expected was for Anouk to rally.
‘I suspect you care about these kids because you understand them better than you’d have your moneyed gala guests believe.’
‘Not really,’ he denied.
‘Of course you do.’ She held his gaze, refusing to cow to him. ‘Because you were a young carer, too, Sol.’
Of all the things he’d expected Anouk might say, that certainly wasn’t one of them. For one brief, heart-stopping moment, he wondered if he could bluff her.
He had the oddest sensation that he wouldn’t be able to. She would see right through his façade. The realisation needled him.
Or was he more galled at the idea that some traitorous element of himself wanted her to see through it?
He had no idea how he kept his tone neutral.
‘You’ve been talking to Barbara.’
She shook her head but he didn’t believe her and determined to make no bones about it.
‘I’ve warned her about sharing personal information before,’ he growled. ‘No matter who it’s about, or who to.’
‘It wasn’t Barbara.’ Anouk raised her eyebrows.
‘Of course it was. It had to be.’
‘Actually, Libby told me,’ Anouk bit out finally. ‘She also told me that you and your brother were young carers. For your mother.’
He couldn’t answer. Couldn’t even speak.
‘What else did she say?’ he gritted out when he felt as if he’d finally managed to work his tongue loose.
‘That it was your story to tell, not hers,’ Anouk admitted.
