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She looked down at the floor for several seconds, before she glanced back up. ‘Wow, you don’t hold back when you really get going, do you?’
He dragged a hand through his hair. ‘I had a call on my way back. My father had a better health day today than the doctors have seen in the last six months. I missed it, Jasmine. I missed it because I’m attending dinners and vetting potential brides just so my people’s faith in me can be restored. You think I should go easy on you for that?’
She’d grown paler as he spoke, and tears filled her eyes by the time he finished.
Reyes felt like a toad for upsetting her. He cursed silently when her mouth trembled.
‘I wasn’t going to apologise again. I think saying sorry loses its power after the first dozen times. But once again, please know that I never wished for this to happen to you, Reyes. I was protecting those I love and misjudged the consequences. But what’s happening with your father is good news. You weren’t there to witness it but that doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s better.’
About to denounce her for her unwanted optimism, he paused in surprise when she leaned in close and kissed his cheek.
His breath punched out as her alluring scent engulfed him. Too soon, she stepped back and he fought down a keen sense of loss.
Rocking back on his heels, Reyes eyed her. ‘Why did you do that?’ He was shocked enough for his voice to emerge flat. At every turn this woman threw him for a loop.
‘You looked like you needed it. You’ll be back home soon enough and in control of things. And Santo Sierra will get better with you in charge. I’m certain of it.’
She secured the towel around her, grabbed another one and proceeded to dry her hair. He found himself transfixed, unable to take his eyes off her.
When she sat cross-legged on the lounger, Reyes fought to avert his gaze from her bare thighs. Seeing another scar on her knee, he frowned. From what he knew about her, he was aware her childhood hadn’t been a bed of roses. But the physical marks caused him to wonder exactly what had happened to her.
‘Did this happen to you in juvie?’ he asked tersely as he sat opposite her.
She followed his gaze and shook her head. ‘No. It was yet another product of my misspent youth.’
His fist clenched. ‘That’s not an answer, Jasmine.’
Her throat moved in a small swallow. ‘I was pinned between two gangs during a turf war on the council estate where I lived. This is the result of flying glass from a shattered window.’
He forced himself to release his hold on the glass before it broke in his fist. ‘Shattered glass from...?’
‘Bullets.’
Icy fury washed over him. ‘Your mother let you live in such a dangerous place?’ His voice sounded gruff and almost alien in his ears.
‘We had nowhere else to go.’ No self-pity, just a statement of fact. And yet he knew that the situation must have been gruelling. Why else would she have fought to never return to a place like that again?
Overwhelmed by the protective instinct that continued to build inside him, Reyes looked at her knee. He barely resisted the urge to run his hand over the jagged scar. Just as he fought to ask whether there were more signs of her traumatic childhood on her body.
It wasn’t his business. She was a transient presence in his life. He wasn’t even interested in punishing her for the theft of his treaty any more. Her life had been a difficult one. She’d made choices she wasn’t proud of, but she’d made those choices out of loyalty, a need to survive.
As much as he wanted to damn her for the turmoil she’d left behind, deep down he knew that, faced with the same choice, he would choose the same path. How many times had he shielded his own father from his mother’s misdeeds? Lied to protect his father’s feelings? Even knowing what his mother had been doing the day she died, he’d tried to keep the truth from his father for as long as possible.
Except Reyes didn’t want to let Jasmine go...not just yet.
What he wanted was to assuage the alarming, visceral need to flatten her on the nearest surface and rediscover the heady pleasures of her body.
His eyes rose to her face.
Awareness throbbed between them. Then she glanced away to the view of Paris at night.
‘I was about to order room service. Do you want some food?’ Her voice was husky, warm and sexy in that way that reminded him of their encounter in the darkened bedroom on his yacht.
He forced his gaze from her sensual mouth, and nodded. ‘Sí. I’m starving. Make sure you order an extra-large bread basket.’
