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“I don’t know. I cannot imagine a world in which your father would not have expended every bit of energy trying to improve your education.”
“The press would have had a field day, that’s why! Cristopher La Roche, preeminent author of all those brilliant books, with a daughter who can’t read?” She made a tsking noise. “He was so embarrassed. He couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t learn. He was furious that I wasn’t trying hard enough.”
Stavros kept his temper in check with effort. “This is not a question of trying. Ability is predetermined. One cannot master the skill without the right tool. Your brain doesn’t work this way.”
“I know that.”
“Surely your father did too.”
“No. He disagreed with the diagnosis. He felt I just wasn’t trying hard enough. He threatened to pull me out of the school – the only home I’d ever really known – if I broached the subject again. That was the end of it.”
Stavros paced the room, his shoulder brushing the tree as he passed. It emitted a fragrant pine scent, though it was plastic. He looked at the tree again and then saw the little gadget behind it, plugged into a light switch. An automatic room freshener that smelled like Christmas? Of course.
“Whatever he felt,” Stavros spoke softly, slowly, forcing himself to be rational. “Has no bearing on how we proceed. You have a condition that prevents you from reading. I don’t care. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
She tilted her head towards him, her heart in her throat. “And how do you feel about me?”
The smile he gave her was twisted with self-condemnation. “I love you.” Words that stuck inside of her and yet she pushed back at them.
“What?” She stared at him and a frown moved across her face, while her heart leaped inside of her.
“You must know the truth of that.”
“No,” she said simply, shaking her head and moving towards the kitchen simply so she could prop her shoulder against the door for support.
“I love everything that you are. You are not the only one who’s been nursing a secret, agape mou. You were fifteen when your father died and I was … captivated by you. On your sixteenth birthday, I had to admit to myself that my feelings were not so benign as that. I wanted you, even then. At eighteen, when you begged me to make love to you, I wanted you so badly. Only knowing how much you’d drunk stopped me from taking what you wanted to give. I have kept myself away from you with will power alone, when I have wanted you most of all. And now, I won’t do it again. I won’t push you away and I won’t let you walk away.”
“I was disgusted in myself for how I wanted you. I was your guardian, and you were still a child. At eighteen, you were just barely a woman! Everything I owed Christopher and I owed you – how dare I want you like that?”
She was shivering all over. “You were disgusted by me,” she contradicted. “You told me that in no uncertain terms the next morning.”
His smile was loaded with self-condemnation. “I was disgusted in myself,” he insisted softly. “You represented the biggest danger of my life. I had no clue how to perform my duty as your guardian when all I could think of was taking you to bed.” He ground his teeth together and took a step closer towards her. “You were eighteen.” He wiped his hand over his eyes, as if he could erase all the guilt that way.
“Seeing you in the papers with other men damned near killed me.”
“Oh, like you weren’t off doing the exact same thing,” she spat, but her heart was beating so hard and fast she could hardly hear a sound over the noise in her ears.
“I wasn’t. I broke up with Rhiannon after that night. After your eighteenth birthday. There’s been no one for me since.”
Claudia froze, her eyes holding his with abject shock. “You’re saying you haven’t slept with anyone since that night?”
“Oh, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Which is, perhaps, the only mitigating factor in the way I took you in my office,” he shook his head darkly. “Instead of seducing you properly.”
Claudia swallowed down the hope that was bursting through her. The delight at his loyalty and the fact she hadn’t been the only one falling in love. She couldn’t let it tempt her and distract her from staying the course.
“It doesn’t matter.” The words were hollow, accompanied by a thin attempt at a smile.
“It doesn’t?”
She cleared her throat and stood up straighter, forcing herself to meet his eyes. Only he was looking at the shelves to her left. More specifically, at the assortment of items there.
The presents he’d given her over the years, all grouped together. His eyes shone when they returned to her face.
But Claudia didn’t return his smile.
“I think you should go now.”
“Do you?” He paced closer, bringing himself to stand right in front of her, so that she could feel his warmth and smell his masculine fragrance.
