Or not. He might be completely wrong about that. Lord knew his mind continuously drifted to sex where she was concerned and there was no use reading anything into it, at least not beyond the fact that he couldn’t keep his hands off her. And he’d had some experience, admittedly nothing like what it felt like with Sophie, but everything was new for her. He knew her well enough to realize she didn’t share her feelings or her past easily. If she hadn’t opened up to his mother, there were a whole lot of things he might never have known. It made sense that she’d turn away from the things she didn’t want to talk about and toward the things she wanted to do. He was just happy he was the one she wanted to do them with.
“I need you to look at some pictures for me.” He reached for the folder he’d left on the counter, sucking in a breath as the cold granite came in contact with his bare skin.
Sophie giggled but the laughter died in her throat when he set the photos in front of her. He didn’t have to ask if she recognized the property or which one it was. She wore the answer like a billboard across her face. His new question was what in the world had happened to her there to put that fear in her eyes. It was fleeting. He’d have missed it if he hadn’t been watching so intently, but it had been there and in a funny way, it seemed stronger than when she’d been getting shot at.
“That’s it.” Without touching it, her finger hovered over the cluster of buildings surrounded by shaggy-looking palm trees and turquoise water, more green than blue. It was almost as if she was scared it would bite.
“I was afraid of that.” He paused a moment before scooping the photos up and slipping them back into the folder.
As soon as the photos disappeared from sight, Sophie shook herself, as if to clear her head.
“Afraid? Why?”
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
Her look telegraphed her disbelief, but she didn’t push. That more than anything showed him how shaken she was by the photograph.
“Why did you leave, Sophie? Tell me exactly what happened. It was more than just losing Noah.” It wasn’t a question, and he could tell by her expression she wouldn’t dispute it.
She let out a sigh so shaky; it tore at his heart. Needing to touch her, to offer comfort but not wanting to distract either of them, he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
“I told you about my mother getting sick.” It was a statement, nothing more, but he could hear the pain in her voice and knew the words were a poor substitute for the truth of her story.
He nodded rather than say anything, but she wasn’t looking at him. He hated making her relive something painful, but if he was going to eliminate the threat, he needed to know.
“She died and Noah took over the household stuff. He and I were still pretty much in shock. We weren’t paying very much attention to anything beyond getting up, getting to school, and eating every day. Some days we didn’t even manage that. I’m not sure either of us realized we might need to pay attention to anything else. It wouldn’t have mattered.” She shook her head again. Almost as if she were trying to convince herself. “By the time either of us bothered to pay any attention to the pearl farm, Uncle Jack had taken over the day-to-day operations. He wasn’t related to us,” she clarified before he could open his mouth to ask. “More like a family friend. Mum had always trusted him.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Anyway, that’s probably not the relevant part.”
It was more relevant than she knew but he wasn’t ready to tell her what he’d found. Not until she finished with her story. He waited, and she glanced in his direction, still lost in her memories but with him enough to give a tentative smile. It didn’t reach her eyes, and he hated himself for putting her through it. He kept reminding himself he was helping her, but he still felt like a shit.
“What happened when Noah graduated, sweetheart?” The endearment felt like a lie. A trick to coax her to open up. “Was there money for him to go to college?”
“Australia’s not like here. Student loans are affordable and pretty much anyone can get them. We don’t have to sell our souls, eh?” This time the smile was genuine and the band around his chest relaxed a bit. “He didn’t want to leave me.” He could see her drifting into the past. “He stayed until my senior year, working with the divers, seeding oysters. I begged him to leave, but I was lost as soon as he was gone.”
“Why did you push him to leave?”
She hesitated and he knew there was something there. Something she didn’t want to tell him. Something he needed to know.
“I was scared. For him. It sounds crazy, I know.” She met his gaze, her blue eyes willing him to believe her. “It wasn’t one thing, Not really. It was more that everything changed. Uncle Jack brought in a new crew. The guys who moved in were different. Harder. After a while it seemed like they were really the ones in charge. I worried every time Noah dove that something would happen to him, so I convinced him I’d be okay on my own. It was just supposed to be for nine months Then I was going to follow him to university. By the time I graduated, he was gone. Stupid fucking waste.”
“And not your fault.” He didn’t need her to say the words to see the direction her thoughts had taken.She blamed herself for her brother’s death.
“If I hadn’t pushed him...”
“You were right to be worried about him. The pearl beds where your brother dove are being run by the Darah, one of the Indonesian cartels. They’re into a lot of things, most of them dangerous. Your instincts where Noah was concerned were probably right.”
He heard her suck in her breath and wished he could spare her the last part but there was one more thing he needed to know.
“Sophie, how did you get away? What made you leave Australia?”
––––––––
SOPHIE’S HEAD WAS spinning. She’d moved to the States for a fresh start and vowed when she got here she wouldn’t look back. There wasn’t anything for her in Australia but painful memories. She’d spent more time thinking about what happened to her mum and brother in the past two weeks than she had in the past two years. She hated it, hated how much of her life she’d blocked out and hated reliving all the heartache. She hated that when Emerson looked at her now, it was with pity and not with the heat she’d gotten used to sharing with him.
She wanted a do-over. One that came without scary cartels and a lifetime’s worth of regrets. She wanted a chance with Emerson that wasn’t dependent on him saving her from the unnamed bad guys. She wanted a chance to build something with him. It was a thought she hadn’t let herself have before. Her breath caught in her throat at the realization. Happily ever after wasn’t their deal.
Love wasn’t what they’d signed up for and just because she’d changed her mind didn’t mean Emerson had. She had so little experience with the emotion, she didn’t even know if this kind of intensity was normal. For all she knew, he’d had these same feelings with other women. The idea twisted something inside her and she shifted, as if she were trying to get away from some kind of physical pain.
“Sweetheart?” He touched her chin, tipping her face to meet his gaze, and there it was again. The endearment served up with a side of pity.
