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‘The truth usually comes out in the end.’
‘That’s what I think too!’
He looked into the eyes lifted to his, shining with an idealism that she would inevitably lose in the next few days and weeks—and she’d be better for it, or at least more able to survive in the real world.
While he remained reluctant to give anyone related to Tor the benefit of the doubt, it seemed likely that any involvement on her part had been unknowing...but then ignorance was no defence in a court of law.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘ISN’TTHATYOURLAWYER?’
Soren nodded as Franco, in the cycle lane, punched the air with triumph as he overtook them, the lane they were in having ground to a slow crawl.
‘He is your lawyer,’ Soren corrected.
When he had made his request to Franco, his friend hadn’t challenged him or asked him why he was doing this, why he was helping Tor’s granddaughter, but Soren knew he wanted to.
Anna herselfhadasked him.
Soren was asking himself.
In a rush of unwelcome honesty he likened his own replies to a politician dodging the difficult question and choosing to answer a different one.
Soren was a man who controlled his own destiny. He did not give away that control to regrets or doubts, he set an objective and ruthlessly dismissed anything that interfered with achieving it. Was it a strength or was it a weakness? He didn’t know, it was just him—it was the way he dealt with distractions.
Anna Randall sitting beside him would not be dismissed, neither would the sexual vibration between them. He looked at her through the veil of his lashes resenting the fact she could make him feel something he did not want to.
Resenting her and, yes,wantingher.
Wanting to punish her for who she was, and wanting to protect her... The conflict simmering inside constantly threatened to boil over at any moment. He felt as if he were walking on eggshells barefoot.
From the moment he had set eyes on her there had been a recognition; he had instantly sensed the fire, the promise of passion that he had wanted to explore.
Tor Randall’s granddaughter just wouldn’t vacate his head. Innocent or guilty, too attractive for comfort or not, shewasTor’s granddaughter—that fact alone put her totally off limits.
He faced his uncomfortable facts so why the hell couldn’t she? Why could she not see that Tor was as guilty as hell?
What was it going to take to make her see her grandfather for who he was, what he was...?
It frustrated the hell out of him that even after today she seemed to have no real concept of what was coming, no idea of the truth bomb that was about to explode in her face.
Maybe it was something that only those who had lived the experience could appreciate, and he had. He regretted her name would be associated for ever with the breaking scandal, but it was not down to him. He was the catalyst, not the cause.
It was a fact of life that the innocent suffered along with the guilty. She was not his responsibility, and he didn’t need the feelings of guilt that were both illogical and uncomfortable. She would have a tough time but she would move on.
His mother hadn’t.
He pushed away the thought, focusing instead on the steely core he had sensed in Tor’s granddaughter, a resilience that his own emotionally vulnerable parent had never had.
Anna would survive but she wouldn’t be the same person sitting beside him. What part of herself would she lose?
Why did the idea bother him?
For the first time in many years Soren found he could not distance himself from his emotions. The acknowledgment infuriated him, but rather than give into those emotions he reached the logical conclusion that the best way to make them go away was to address the cause.
He was going to remove her from the path of the oncoming storm and after that it was up to her what she did.
He leaned back into the corner of the car, pushing his head against the cream leather padding.
