‘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 investorsout 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…’
