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‘And you still scoff at me for that,’ she bristled, heat creeping into her tone as she tried to quash the sense of unease which was creeping up on her.
Malachi couldn’t know the truth about her parents. She didn’t want his sympathy or his pity. She couldn’t bear it.
‘But just because you never experienced parents who loved one another it doesn’t mean you can disparage others who have. And just because you don’t believe in it, it doesn’t mean it can’t exist.’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’ His face hardened instantly.
With a thrill, Saskia realised she had somehow got under his skin. She didn’t know how, but if this was her one chance then she wasn’t about to back down.
She softened her tone until it was almost breezily dismissive. ‘I think I know enough.’
‘You’re wrong.’
‘What is there to know?’ She made herself shrug. ‘You’re a tortured man, damaged by his past and a childhood in which he was never loved. It’s all terribly clichéd. And now you keep yourself emotionally unavailable and you mock those who might want something more from a relationship.’
‘You’re walking a very thin line, zvyozdochka,’ warned Malachi. ‘You don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.’
‘Maybe. Maybe not. But whose fault is that?’
‘So you think by provoking me I’ll tell you what you want to know about me?’
‘I think you’ll either tell me or you won’t. Whether I support you or provoke you won’t change anything. I simply decided I didn’t want to sit back and let you disparage my memories just because you don’t understand them.’
‘You misunderstand.’ His eyes bored into her, practically pinning her to the seat. ‘I understand exactly what your memories are. I just don’t agree with the way you interpret them.’
‘Sorry?’
‘You’re holding on to this great love affair between your parents and you’re searching for the same thing. But you’ll never find it because you aren’t as selfish and as cruel as they were.’
‘My parents were not selfish and cruel,’ she denied vehemently, because if she was forceful enough then maybe she could make it true. ‘They loved each other fiercely.’
‘And what about you?’ he pushed.
‘Of course they loved me.’
He was pushing her dangerously close to the edge, and she felt as though she was clinging on with the tops of her fingers. But she couldn’t let him know that. She wouldn’t let him see.
‘They adored me!’ she cried, emotion threatening to clog her throat.
Malachi opened his mouth. Then closed it. His face was shuttered again, and a fresh wave of f
rustration powered through her.
‘So that’s it?’ she challenged. ‘You push so far and then you back away when things start to get hot?’
‘I don’t think this is a conversation that will get us anywhere,’ he replied smoothly. ‘Especially not when you’re supposed to be recuperating. So, if you’ve quite finished making up objections, I suggest I show you to your suite, so you can clean up after the flight and rest, even sleep if you wish.’
He stretched out his long, muscular legs and stood with all the grace and power of some glossy big cat in its natural habitat. And equally as lethal.
When he reached out to offer her his hand she briefly considered refusing his help and getting to her feet by herself. But the truth was that between the flight, the operation, and the baby scare, she was feeling far more drained than she’d realised.
Still, she plastered on a bright smile. ‘I’m fine.’
Malachi looked unimpressed. ‘Your doctor may not have put you on bed rest, but if you don’t do what she said in terms of taking it easy, don’t think I won’t put you in bed myself.’
Saskia swallowed, trying not to focus on the X-rated images which had instantly slipped into her brain at his words, or on the memories of what had happened between them every other time they’d been in the vicinity of a bed.
Malachi had paused, too, as though he was fighting a similar battle.
