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‘I know that,’ he growled. ‘But I’m his son. It’s there somewhere. I have his genes.’
‘You and I both know the nature versus nurture debate. You’re a completely different person to your father. To both your parents, for that matter. Look at Hetti and the rest of your siblings.’
‘Rafi is like him,’ Tak ground out.
‘Sorry?’
‘Rafi. He lived through the same childhood I did. He knew exactly how that man destroyed everything. He hated him every bit as much as I did. And then, six months after he got married, I discovered he was having an affair. That he’d had a mistress on the side before he even got engaged.’
It took her a moment, but she finally thrust her shock aside. ‘That still doesn’t make you like him, Tak. It isn’t what you stand for.’
‘You can’t know that for certain.’
‘I can. Because that isn’t who you are.’
But it was pointless. The conversation was over and Tak had shut her out. Again.
They sipped their coffee in silence, with Tak clearly marking time until he deemed it polite to leave. And then they were in the lift, the silence almost suffocating her as she stood next to him. He was only inches away and yet it might as well have been a whole continent. His fury and resentment were coming off him in waves.
He didn’t so much walk her to her room door as stalk there, barely waiting for her key card reader to flash green before marching to his own door.
‘Goodnight,’ she ventured as she stood just inside her room.
But he was already gone.
For several protracted minutes Effie paced up and down in her sitting area. It was hell knowing he was only on the other side of that wall but that he was shutting her out. Torturing himself with accusations that should never have been hurled at him. Believing himself to be the kind of man who would do something which so disgusted him.
And what kind of willpower did it take to hold himself back from people—girlfriends—the way he must have done all his life?
Much the same as the willpower you’ve shown, a small voice whispered in the back of her head. And was it really so difficult to stand back before Tak walked into your life?
The thought lent her strength. What if she was to Tak what he had been to her? The one person to break through those barriers? She felt as though her day alone in Paris had unleashed something in her which hadn’t been there for almost two decades. She felt wild, reckless and free. Maybe now it was time to put it to the test.
She didn’t give herself time to think, lest she talked herself out of her. Talked herself back down to being the woman she always was—never seizing what she really wanted. And she wanted Tak.
Effie marched to the connecting door and slid the bolt, pretending she didn’t see her hand shaking before she lifted her chin and strode through into Tak’s room.
It was empty.
For a moment Effie hesitated. Did she turn back? Wait? Where was he, even?
And then she heard a door open around the corner and Tak walked in, with a damp sheen on his body, wet hair, and a small towel around his waist. He stopped, stared, and Effie didn’t miss the tiny flare of his nostrils or the way his eyes widened a fraction.
It restored her waning courage and she propelled herself forward, towards him, stopping inches from his face. ‘Pleasant shower?’
She couldn’t resist lifting her hands, allowing them to skim over the glorious pectoral muscles of his well-honed chest. Her insides turned to mush just at this mere contact. Her only comfort was that she could feel coolness coming off his skin. A cold shower? Surely that had to be a good sign? As was the slightly hoarse edge to his voice when he spoke.
‘What are you doing, Effie? I didn’t bring you here for this.’
‘No, I know. But still, I wanted to come and thank you for bringing me to Paris.’
He blinked, clearly surprised. She didn’t blame him. She sounded bold, sensual—so unlike herself.
‘You’ve already thanked me.’
‘Well, I wanted to thank you properly.’
Before he could say anything else she tipped her head forward and pressed a kiss to the hollow at his throat, her hands tracing the rigid contours of his torso, her fingertips deliberately grazing his nipples.
