Chapter Eleven #3
She glanced up at him, her hands covering his where they were anchored to her waist.
‘What are you apologising for?’ she asked, that pure emerald gaze wide with confusion.
Wasn’t it obvious?
He’d let emotions get the better of him.
Emotions he’d had on lockdown ever since he was a kid.
The terror, of not knowing where his brother was, whether they could ever be safe.
All those fears he’d thought he had discarded—on his way to the top.
The fears that had become ever more distant over the years, after they’d bought their first tugboat, their first container ship, when Caras Brothers had earned its first million in turnover, its first billion.
All those fears he had believed once conquered had made him stronger and more secure—until the second he’d woken up alone again.
And suddenly he’d come face to face with the fact that those fears had never really left him, they’d just been waiting for him to need someone again.
And now Freya had seen that frightened kid, instead of the man. But how could he explain any of that, without exposing himself more?
He shifted, to press his palm to her cheek, trying to lock away those fears again, back where they belonged.
This wasn’t about Freya, it couldn’t be. They hardly knew each other… This was just the result of indulging himself with her—more than he ever had with any other woman. Because of some kind of pheromone addiction.
‘For being a jerk, earlier,’ he said. ‘You can leave the house if you want…’ He huffed, the panic strangling him again. ‘Just let me know where you are.’
She nodded, but her continued scrutiny made him feel transparent.
‘You looked terrified, Theo,’ she said, seeing right through his explanation. ‘I’m sorry I caused that, however inadvertently. What happened to you?’
He knew exactly what she was asking him. But the explanation was buried in his past, the past he had escaped from a long time ago. It didn’t have anything to do with her, not really.
So why was he so scared to admit it?
He shrugged, lifting her off his lap, so he could swing his legs off the couch and plant his bare feet on the floor. He didn’t have to hold her, to steady himself, that was all in his head.
He didn’t need anyone. Not any more. Not even his brother, Xander. Perhaps talking about that terrified boy would lock the irrational fear back into his psyche—where it belonged—so those memories could never mess with him again.
‘When Xander and I were still kids our father abandoned us. One day he was there, the next he wasn’t.
’ He cleared his throat, his ribs suddenly tight.
‘Our mother died when I was a baby. Xander remembers her. Not me. And our old man couldn’t cope.
He drank too much, couldn’t hold down a job.
His disappearance caused problems though, because Xander was only twelve—and we had no one else. ’
‘Theo, th-that’s awful…’ Her eyes became so large in her face he felt as if he were drowning in them, the compassion deepening the mossy green to a rich emerald—but the sheen of tears shocked him. ‘How did you cope?’ she asked. ‘If you were all alone?’
‘Hey, it wasn’t that bad.’ He brushed his thumb under her eye, scooped up the errant tear, his heart faltering.
‘We were much better off without him. We would never have built the business, if we hadn’t been forced to find a way out.
’ He breathed, not liking the emotions tearing at his chest. Not wanting to feel anything this deeply. ‘Why are you crying?’
‘I’m crying for that little boy, because I know what it’s like to lose a parent.
My mother ran off with her lover when I was about the same age as Xander.
’ She pressed her fist against her chest, her gaze misty with sadness and sympathy…
A sympathy he knew he didn’t deserve. ‘We never saw her again. She didn’t even ask for visitation rights.
She wrote me a letter just before she died.
And I’ve never been able to open it, because that feeling of betrayal has never left me.
I’m still angry with her. How could she love us, and leave us like that?
I never understood it. And even though I know, rationally, that what she did wasn’t my fault, deep down I’m not sure you can ever stop feeling as if you’re not enough.
Because how else do you explain how someone you loved and needed didn’t want you? ’
He could imagine her as a little girl, so fierce, so honest, so willing to blame herself for something that was not her fault. The thought of that kid crucified him, but he knew their experiences weren’t the same.
He wrapped his hand around her fist, lifted her clenched fingers to his lips and kissed the knuckles.
‘I hate that she did that to you, Freya,’ he said.
The unfamiliar empathy turned his guts to mush again.
‘But don’t confuse me with someone who deserves your sympathy.
I was glad he left us. I never loved him.
If anything, I feared him. He was a drunk and a bully.
And once he was gone, I used his disappearance to do whatever the hell I wanted.
’ He let out a rusty chuckle, remembering that boy now not as the scared skinny kid hiding in a corner, but the thief he had become.
‘I lied and cheated and stole anything I could lay my hands on.’
‘You were doing what you had to do to survive,’ she remarked, her passionate defence of that little bastard impossibly endearing. But also hopelessly misguided.
He choked out a laugh as the pressure in his chest eased, charmed by her innocent determination to see the best in him, when he knew how bad he’d been.
‘Yeah, that’s what I told myself. But the truth is I also enjoyed it.
I was addicted to the adrenaline rush of scoping out tourists and picking a victim.
I loved the challenge of lifting their wallets without them feeling a thing.
It wasn’t long before I graduated from being a street thief to a cat burglar.
I was agile and fearless, and I convinced myself I deserved everything I wanted, without having to earn it.
An elderly American tourist gave me twenty euros while I was outside her hotel one day—because she thought I was begging.
That night I climbed into her room and stole her wedding ring right off her finger. ’
He’d given it back a couple of nights later, after a brutal beating from his fence had clued Xander into what Theo was doing—and his brother had made him give up his life of crime, aged eleven.
But how did that absolve him when he’d had no qualms about stealing that ring in the first place?
His fence had deemed the ring worthless, hence the beating, but it must have been so precious to her.
But he’d taken it anyway, all because he’d resented that sweet old lady for taking pity on him.
‘Don’t make excuses for that boy,’ he said, cupping her cheek, hooking the unruly hair behind her ear. ‘He was a little shit.’
‘Why are you so hard on him?’ Freya asked softly, the compassion like a boulder in her throat.
What Theo had described to her was so much harder than what she had endured.
And she knew how tough it still was to deal with her mother’s desertion.
It made her doubt herself, had left her defenceless for so long in the face of her father’s demands, his judgments. Theo had helped to free her from that…
Was it so wrong to want to free him from his demons, too?
He stared back at her blankly, his expression guarded. He didn’t want her sympathy. Especially not for that boy.
‘You told me once you knew what it was like to be powerless,’ she continued. ‘Why wouldn’t you be proud of that boy who made something of himself? From nothing? Not many street thieves end up building a legitimate multibillion-dollar business in their early thirties, Theo.’
He shrugged. ‘Xander did a lot of the hard work. He’s good with numbers, and spreadsheets. And he always had a shrewd head for business. I was just the front man—charming investors out of their money, keeping the clients happy and schmoozing anyone who could increase our profile.’
Which was no mean feat. She ought to know, having been forced into the role of diplomat at an early age.
‘Xander and I make a good team, but don’t mistake me for the brains of the operation. I didn’t even go to school.’
‘Which makes your achievements more impressive,’ she offered.
She thought of how her own father had denied her the chance to finish her education.
And how much that had hurt. But no expense had been spared on the schools she had attended before Tequila-Slammer-Gate.
She’d had the best education money could buy—and done nothing with it, except exist in her father’s shadow.
‘How did you manage with no schooling?’ she asked.
Theo cleared his throat, looking increasingly uncomfortable. ‘Xander read to me at night, to teach me my letters, but he couldn’t afford to enrol me in school, in case the teachers figured out we were alone.’
‘But your English is perfect. You even have all the idioms, unlike your brother—how did you learn to speak it so fluently?’
Again, he looked nonplussed by her praise—as if he wasn’t convinced it was genuine. Or that he should accept it.
‘I used to sneak into this movie theatre near the port during the hottest part of the day. The place had air-conditioning, unlike our apartment. It mostly played Hollywood movies with subtitles, but my reading was never good enough as a kid to follow them. I picked up what they were saying, so I didn’t die of boredom…
And I soon discovered English came in useful when duping the tourists. ’
‘I imagine it also came in useful when you started your business,’ she said.
Theo spoke English like an American, which must have given Caras Brothers a huge advantage.
‘Your linguistic abilities must have been popular with US investors—particularly those looking to get a foothold in the Mediterranean,’ she prompted, wanting him to acknowledge how smart and resourceful that boy had been.
The irony didn’t escape her, that she’d once found his effortless charm and cast-iron confidence so intimidating—only to discover now how much he’d had to overcome to become that man.
He frowned… But then he let out a rough chuckle—of relief or amusement, she couldn’t be sure. ‘Who knew? You’re a romantic, Freya.’
‘Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?’ Freya asked.
He tucked a knuckle under her chin, touched her bottom lip, the dark longing in his gaze as visceral as the emotion making her heartbeat slow.
‘You want to romanticise my past, go ahead. But don’t be surprised if I use your sentimental nature to my advantage,’ he said.
But the brittle cynicism in his voice didn’t quite reach his eyes.
‘I want you, Freya.’ His thumb drifted down to press against the rabbiting pulse in her collarbone, the languid, lazy caress sparking all those needs that were never far from the surface and which he had always exploited so effortlessly.
‘But I also want that land. Be warned, I’m not one of the good guys. I look after number one. Always.’
She wanted to argue the point. A truly bad man would never have warned her off, nor would he have feared for her safety with so little provocation.
But the sense of connection that she felt so strongly—which he refused to acknowledge—felt too new, and too raw to share. And too fragile in the face of his determination not to let her in.
One thing she did know, though: she wasn’t scared of those feelings any more. Or that she trusted him in ways she probably shouldn’t.
She couldn’t make herself hate that boy, the way he did. Because he had become the man before her now. A much better man than he probably realised.
Leaning into his caress, she smiled at the wary expression on his face. ‘Does that mean you’re ready to enjoy your sauna gift now?’ she asked, determined to lighten the mood. And not push, however much she might want to.
Theo wasn’t ready to admit there was more going on here.
That what they’d shared in the last few days was about much more than just sex.
It had to be, because he’d given her a glimpse of the neglected child he’d spent so much of his life escaping.
That gave her hope, even though he still had so many of his emotional barriers in place.
He huffed out a tortured laugh, the relief on his face at the change of subject confirming her suspicions… That he’d revealed more than he had intended to.
He stood and tugged her off the couch, to press his lips to her hair and whisper: ‘Merry Christmas, Your Highness.’ His gaze darkened. ‘I guess that means I’ll have to find something awesome to gift-wrap for you once we get to the sauna…’
She couldn’t contain the excited laugh when he boosted her into his arms and headed to the garage—aware of what he was probably planning to gift-wrap, because it was already stretching his sweatpants.
But as they raced each other to get enough clothing on to head out to the sauna hut, it wasn’t his awesome cock she was anticipating the most, it was celebrating the newfound intimacies they’d shared.