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Beside him, Arabella sat in silence once again, her hands folded in her lap, her features remote. The volatile emotions churned harder inside him. A roar mounted in his head.
With no outlet, hopelessness closed over him, dark and devastating. In that moment, Draco knew his only choice was to drive. So he let the silence reign.
CHAPTER TEN
‘COME THIS WAY. I know a back way to the suite,’ Draco said, his voice a gruff command.
From the moment she’d seen his face as he watched Carla skate, Rebel’s world had turned dark and her misery had bloomed. Like toxic smoke, it’d sped through her veins, insidious and inescapable, until her body was steeped in it.
Up until that moment, she hadn’t realised she’d been using Draco as a balm against the gaping wound of her father’s rejection since she’d stepped on his plane this morning. It didn’t matter that the man was often times cold and ruthless, or cutting and dismissive. It didn’t even matter that, when it came right down to it, she was an unwitting criminal, who dangled between jail and freedom at the sole discretion of the man she was relying on to drag her from her nightmares.
All she’d cared about was that she was with him, and not at her flat, reliving each word her father had said. She’d been sure it was why the thought of a history between Draco and Carla chafed as much as it did.
Draco’s face as he’d watched Carla glide over the ice had hammered home a different truth—her reasons for relying on Draco weren’t wholly for the sake of avoiding thinking about her father.
The level of her misery had forced her to acknowledge another truth. Draco obviously cared for Carla beyond platonic or business interests.
‘The sight of Carla with that man upsets you that much?’ she forced herself to ask, because she couldn’t not know.
‘Yes, it does,’ he grated as they mounted stairs that ended in two wraparound terraces.
Her heart dipped, along with her ability to think straight. She followed almost robot-like as he took the left wraparound terrace, which brought them to a set of French doors. He thrust it open and they entered the hallway that led to their suite.
She stepped in front of him as he was about to head to the living room.
‘Carla means more to you than just getting her away from Tyson Blackwell, doesn’t she?’ she challenged, absently wondering why she couldn’t stop herself from probing a point that seemed to lance her with arrows of bewildering pain.
Draco frowned. ‘Of course. You think I’d go through all this for someone I didn’t care about?’
Rebel’s hand shook as she lifted it to her temple. ‘Sorry, I’m confused. You care enough about her to want to save her from Tyson, but it’s just the marrying her that you’re against?’
‘I’m against being manipulated, period,’ he snarled. ‘Somewhere along the line, Olivio has obviously concluded he can leverage my private life to suit him. That’s not going to happen. Now if you’re done with your questions, I’d appreciate not being interrogated further about this. You know your role. Just play it and we’ll be fine.’
He went to the drinks cabinet. Grabbing a bottle of single-malt whisky, he pulled the cork and poured two fingers into a crystal tumbler.
He knocked it back in one clean swallow. Then he slammed the glass down and clenched both hands in his hair.
Several Greek curses fell from his lips as he paced the floor.
Chest tight with emotions she refused to name, she eyed him. ‘You do realise that if you insist on continuing this façade and you don’t do anything about the state you’re in, you’re going to blow this charade wide open, don’t you?’
He paused mid-stride. ‘Why do you think I’m in here knocking back drinks instead of out there, punching Blackwell’s face in?’ he growled.
Rebel flinched. She needed to walk away, leave him alone to handle this on his own. She wasn’t equipped to deal with anyone’s emotional fallout; not when she was actively hiding from her own. But she’d also never seen anyone care this deeply...not since witnessing the unstinting adoration between her parents. She’d deeply missed the overflow of warmth from that special bond. So even though a physical ache lodged in her chest as she watched Draco try to wrestle his emotions under control, she remained rooted to the floor beside the armchair.
‘Are you going to talk to Carla about this?’
‘I’ll have to. I can’t let this go any further. Olivio might not listen, but I hope she will.’
He dropped his hands from the back of his neck and then stared at his trembling fingers. He seemed fascinated with his body’s reaction. Then slowly he clenched his fists and exhaled. Although his body calmed, the Draco who walked past her with a curt, ‘I need a shower,’ possessed eyes so bleak they were almost black.
