Chapter Fourteen
Diego steered her through the double doors and into his magnificent hallway. “My life has changed, and yours can too, but only if you allow it to.”
This couldn’t work. They would never work as a couple,she told herself as he opened a tall, imposing door on a room she hadn’t visited before. For an unforgettable, heart-stopping moment, she stood on the threshold in awe. Diego had brought her to his library…to his stunning, book-packed library. He couldn’t have brought her anywhere to affect her more profoundly. The room was vast, with floor-to-ceiling books on three sides, and floor-to-ceiling windows on the fourth. The windows overlooked the glorious formal gardens, where fountains played and songbirds ready to roost for the night fluttered among the branches of the trees. Burnished wood paneling and vast, jewel-colored rugs competed with antique Oriental ornaments, but it was the scent of books that Celina found intoxicating.The thought of all those adventures tucked inside their leather bindings excited her.
It was twilight, and the subtly lit gardens lent their glow to the room. The soothing ambience invited her to venture deeper and explore. There was a huge library table to sit around and study, and a comfortable seating arrangement positioned around an open fire. She could just imagine snuggling up for cozy reading on chilly winter nights. It was too warm for the fire to be lit at the moment, but the hearth was full of flowers, and their scent mingled with the aroma of polished wood and ancient pages, creating a unique and heady perfume. It was a room straight out of her dreams. It was heaven. She drank it in and almost forgot why she was here until Diego removed the heavy pack from her shoulders and dumped it on the floor.
Long years of defending herself prompted her to launch the first verbal blow. “You want to control me. You knew I couldn’t resist a room like this. That’s why you brought me here.”
“How could I know how the room would affect you?” he said with resounding good sense. “Perhaps one day you’ll explain why you find my library so compelling.”
“I love books.” She turned to face him. “I love having control of my life too.”
“Because control keeps you safe.”
She gave an allowing shrug. “So far,” she agreed. “So many books,” she breathed as she walked across the room to trail her fingertips reverently over the leather bindings.
“That’s usual in a library,” Diego commented dryly, coming to join her. Bringing her into his arms, he added, “Most women want diamonds or a house in the South of France, but you want books.”
“I’ve never seen so many in one place before,” she admitted. “It’s a treasure trove.”
“Shall we sit?” he suggested, indicating one of the comfortable sofas.
“I prefer to stand,” she said.
“And I prefer to sit.”
She yelped with shock as he swung her into his arms. She should have known that Diego never did as expected. They were in such a civilized setting, he had taken her off guard. He was a creature of fierce passion and decisive action, and now it was a battle of wills. She stiffened and resisted him when he sat down on the sofa, still holding her. He dipped his head and kissed her, anyway. She fought him and lost. Trying to block her mind to the wealth of sensation he provoked was a lost cause, as was pummeling her fists on the wall of his chest. When he pulled back his head, he just laughed as if he’d never been so happy.
“What do I have to do?” he demanded. “How do I convince you that if you insist on seeing the world through the eyes of a damaged child, you will never be happy? There’s nothing timid about you when it comes to helping anyone else, but you won’t lift a finger to help yourself. How can I change that? Tell me,” he insisted when she didn’t answer. “What do I have to do to make you care aboutyou?”
She didn’t speak, so he did. “Do you think you’re protecting yourself?” he demanded. “Because you’re not. You’re hiding. You’re fooling yourself that it’s safer that way. If you don’t feel anything, you can get through life, however hard it becomes, one day at a time.”
“And what about you?” she demanded, finding her voice. “Are you so in touch with your feelings that you feel qualified to lecture me?”
“I’m not in touch with my feelings. I’m drowning in them,” Diego admitted. “And for that, I hold you entirely responsible.”
“Me?” she said hotly.
“Yes, you!” he fired back. “You don’t need to get in touch with your emotions, you need to find them first.” And with a sound of angry frustration, he pulled away.
She shivered as Diego sprang up and walked away, finally drawing to a halt with his back turned. She’d been trying to drive him away, and now it seemed she had. Did she want a life without Diego in it?
No. But she had to tell him the truth, all of it, before they could continue.
“The slavers stripped me and humiliated me. They beat me and did unspeakable things. They were dirty, filthy, stinking pigs. From the moment they took me and threw me into the van, they singled me out for particular cruelty, for some reason.”
“Because you’re strong, and they knew it. They had to break you, make an example of you. By attacking the strongest woman amongst their captives, it would act as a warning to the others.”
“Then I’m glad they picked me,” she said fiercely.
“Because you could take it,” Diego agreed.
“But not the mental pain that came afterward,” she admitted.
Celina was injured as surely as if she had been beaten to a pulp, but talking about her experiences was the important first step toward moving past them. He waited as she paused to gather her thoughts.
“At least I knew while they were taunting me, it kept the other women safe,” she said with a rueful huff as she thought back.
