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Not that she could believe that Ajax was a villain, not in the least, but...but it wasn’t like she was longing for him to ride in on his white horse, either.
“That’s really good of you, Alex.”
“It’s basic human decency,” he said. “Every parent should want to be there for their child. What about you, Rachel? Were your parents there for you?”
“Yes,” she said. “Always. My father has always been involved in my and my sister’s lives, and when Ajax came... He loves Ajax like a son. And so did my mother.”
“You said your mother died?”
“A few years ago. She was ill. That’s one reason I never went on to higher education or anything. I had to help. Leah was young and...and she needed to live her life. My mother wasn’t the easiest person for me to get along with, but she was sick and she needed someone. So I can’t possibly resent that I spent that time with her.” She fiddled with her fork. “But then...well, then Ajax expressed the desire that we might...”
“Why did you put him off for so long?”
“I can see now, clear as day, that my saying I wanted to ‘live a little’ first was mainly because I just didn’t feel anything for him. I dated some other men, but didn’t have serious relationships with them because even though I knew Ajax wasn’t putting an exclusive claim on me it felt like I would have been cheating.” And she’d felt far too burned out to go there, but she wasn’t going to bring that up. “And then we made it official and we’ve been engaged for years and...it was comfortable. To wear his ring and go on with life like it hadn’t changed.” She looked into her water glass. “And now everything’s changed.”
“Well, not everything. You aren’t married.”
“And I’m not going to be.”
“Because you don’t trust me?”
“There’s that, but there’s the fact that this isn’t even close to being about trust. My father has promised ownership of Holt to the daughter who marries first and to the man she marries. He won’t go back on a promise.”
“Refreshing,” Alex said, a dark light in his blue eyes.
“Yes, well, you don’t get to benefit from it. Sorry.”
“Too bad.”
“I’m exhausted,” she said, standing. “I think dinner wasn’t the best idea. I’m going to my room.”
“Fine. Shall I have your plate cleared?”
“Yes,” she said. “And have cookies sent to my room. And decaf coffee. I don’t want to eat healthy.”
He arched a brow. “You are a rebel, Rachel Holt. How did the media ever paint you as anything else?”
“Shut up, Alex.” She turned and walked back into the house, stalking to her room. She flung open the door and then slammed it with equal fervor.
She needed something. She needed...cookies. And to open a window so that she could breathe. She walked over to the other side of the room and flung the curtains open, then shoved the windows wide.
The breeze coming in off the ocean didn’t help relieve the pressure in her chest. It didn’t help anything.
