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She was glowing. She was absolutely beautiful.
I stood frozen, staring at this glowing pink vision. She’d always had the kind of presence that made any room seem lighter and warmer.
‘You shouldn’t be here.’ Anger laced my voice even though I tried to stop it. ‘The cottage is forbidden to anyone but me. I told you that.’
Colour stained her cheeks. ‘I kn-know. I’m sorry, but—’
‘Please leave.’
‘Con, I—’
‘Get out!’ Suddenly I couldn’t stand her being there. Couldn’t stand the thought of her seeing what was in this room, the evidence of the vulnerable, stunted little boy I’d once been. It felt like a violation. It made me feel ashamed. ‘Get out now.’
But she didn’t move, and she didn’t look anywhere else but at me. She was frowning, her chin taking on that tell-tale stubborn cast. ‘No,’ she said.
More fury trickled out, and I’d taken a step in her direction before I could stop myself, my grip on my temper loosening. I felt the way I had a few days ago, when she locked the door against me and some part of my brain had exploded with fury. Then, I’d kicked the door down.
This is why you should never have touched her. This is why you should have sent her away. She draws all kinds of emotions out of you and you can’t stop her.
She had done even back when she’d been a child, sitting in that chair in my study, swinging her legs and telling me funny stories about the boarding school she’d gone to, making me smile.
I should have known then that she had an ability to touch a part of me no one else had, and I should have guarded myself against her. But she’d been a child, and I’d thought Domingo had killed laughter in me for ever.
I didn’t feel like laughing now. My territory had been invaded and I was furious about it.
‘Jenny,’ I growled, ‘you really need to leave.’
She ignored me, her frown deepening as her warm, dark gaze searched my face. ‘Are you okay?’
I’d crossed the room before I knew what I was doing, lifted my hands and taken her upper arms in a gentle grip. Her breath caught audibly. There were dark circles beneath her eyes, as if she hadn’t slept well.
What are you doing? Why are you manhandling her? She’s Jenny...she’syourJenny. Remember what happened to Domingo. Remember what you did.
I couldn’t move. She felt breakable in my hands, fragile as a china shepherdess. I’d already lost control with her once before, and now here I was, laying hands on her again...
She was still frowning, looking up at me, and yet there was no fear in her lovely face, only a concern that gripped me by the throat.
She shouldn’t be concerned for me. Not when I hadn’t shown any concern for her.
‘I know you don’t want me in here, and I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to intrude. But...you’ve been gone all day and I... I was worried for you.’
I struggled to contain my anger, to keep it locked down. She had intruded into my private space, but not so she could discover my secrets and use them against me.
She’d been worried about me.
‘You don’t need to worry,’ I said through gritted teeth. ‘I’m fine.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jenny
HEDIDN’TWANTme here, and if the look of fury that had momentarily crossed his face when I’d stepped into the room hadn’t been enough of a sign, then the tension radiating through every line of his body and the fierce heat in his black eyes certainly was.
He wasn’t fine. He wasn’t fine at all. He was furiously angry. And now, of course, I wanted to know why.
I also wanted to know why he was always gone when I woke up in the mornings, and why he stayed here in the cottage the entire day. Why he only came back in the evenings, and why he’d then take me to bed and keep me there until dinner time.
And, most importantly, I wanted to know why he wouldn’t talk to me. Because we hadn’t discussed the wedding, or when we’d return to London, or what would happen after that. He’d told me he’d instructed one of his staff members to tell my mother where I was, and to contact the shelter where I worked. But we hadn’t discussed anything beyond that. We hadn’t discussed anything at all.
