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She held onto that anger, using it, knowing how well it served her in that moment.
He opened his mouth to say something and then appeared to change his mind.
He moved closer, but not to her, towards the painting, and he frowned as he looked at it. Self-conscious—she never liked it when people looked upon her art as it was forming on the canvas—she felt almost as if she’d been walked in on while naked. A work in progress was raw, messy, chaotic.
She tried to see it through his eyes.
It was moody and atmospheric. The destruction she’d foisted on its lower half minutes earlier only added to its brooding intensity. The red line was striking.
‘I bought it, you know,’ he said, and she frowned because she had no idea what he was talking about. ‘The painting you were working on when we met.’
‘You... It sold to a private buyer.’ She shook her head, lifting her eyes from the new painting to his taut profile.
‘To me.’ He looked towards her abruptly, so she had no chance to flick her gaze away. ‘It sold to me.’
‘Why? Why did you buy it?’
His smile was dark, self-deprecating, imbued with anger and scepticism. ‘Because, Frankie, I found it very hard to put you out of my mind.’ He spoke darkly. ‘I bought it to challenge myself—you were always there with me, and yet I knew I could never contact you. I was testing my strength and resolve by keeping that beautiful piece you’d created close to me. Taunting myself with what I couldn’t ever have again.’
It made absolutely no sense.
‘You got into my bloodstream, like some kind of fever, and I refused to let you weaken me.’
She bit down on her lower lip, hurt shifting inside her. ‘I didn’t want to weaken you.’
‘I know that.’ He took in a deep breath, his chest moving with the action. ‘I know that.’ He lifted a hand then, as if to touch her cheek, but then took a step backwards, keeping his body stiff, his expression impossible to read. He was stern. Focused. She would have said unemotional, except she could feel waves of emotion emanating from him.
‘You were at a café with Leo.’
There was a thick undercurrent to the words. They came to her from far away, making no sense. ‘This morning?’
He gave nothing away. ‘It was in the papers. A photograph of the two of you.’
‘Yes.’ She nodded, darting her tongue out and licking her lower lip. ‘I was annoyed about that. I didn’t notice a photographer.’
‘Anyone with a cell phone is paparazzi these days.’
That was true. She nodded.
‘Did you go out without security?’
The question caught her off-guard. ‘I... It was... The island is tiny and the café an easy walk. Leo and I go to the beach often, without guards. I didn’t think...’
And now, as though he couldn’t help himself, he put his hands on her forearms and held her still. He stared down at her and she stared back, but her heart wouldn’t stop racing; blood gushed through her so fast she could hear it roaring inside her ears like an angry ocean.
‘You didn’t think?’ he asked, haunted, and he dragged her body to his, holding her against him, and she didn’t fight him; she didn’t even think about fighting him.
‘What if someone wanted to hurt you? Or hurt him? What if someone kidnapped Leo?’
‘I was with him the whole time,’ she said shakily. ‘Nothing was going to happen.’
‘You don’t know that,’ he groaned, as though he could barely speak. ‘You cannot take those kinds of risks, Frankie. You can’t do it. Please. Please do not take these risks.’
‘It’s not a risk,’ she promised softly, gently, her heart turning over for him.
‘How do you know this?’ His jaw tightened as though he were grinding his teeth. ‘You can’t. You’re acting on blind faith and I am not prepared to. I won’t live with this kind of worry. I can’t.’
Sympathy curled inside Frankie. She reached up and ran her fingers over his cheek so his breath escaped him in a single hiss. ‘I understand why you feel that way,’ she said softly. ‘You lost your family in terrible circumstances. You couldn’t save them, and now you’re worried something will happen to Leo and you won’t be able to save him.’ His eyes flared. ‘But you can’t keep him in some kind of gilded cage. Not here, not in your home. I want him to have as normal a life as is possible. You have to trust that I can keep him safe. You have to trust me.’
