CHAPTER TWO
Roarke thought that he might feel, at the very least, a rush of triumph as Mr. Andrews and his men surrounded Mara and her companion, cutting off any hope they might have had of escape. But one look at the resignation on Mara’s face and some of the wind left his sails.
Not to mention the fact that he still couldn’t seem to get past this shock of seeing her—alive.
“The lady and I are going to have a chat in her apartment. Watch him.” Roarke gestured to Mara’s escort, a big brute of a man who looked none too happy about being detained. Naturally, Roarke had heard of the infamous, underground boxer, but he hadn’t been able to fully appreciate the man until now. He could certainly see where his popularity came from, for the men surrounding Big B were eyeing him cautiously, and they were some of the best and toughest Runners to be found.
However, what Roarke found more disconcerting was the light hand Mara laid on the man’s arm. Something intimate obviously passed between them, for some of the tension left his stance.
For some reason, that didn’t settle well with Roarke, and it caused him to snap impatiently, “Now.”
Mara didn’t even blink. “Follow me.”
With an overly gallant gesture that was nothing short of mocking, Roarke waved his hand for Mara to precede him. He attempted to keep his gaze fixed firmly ahead, instead of straying toward the enticing sway of her shapely hips, but damn his eyes if he still didn’t find himself desiring the conniving chit. Sometimes being a virile, hot-blooded male was a blasted inconvenience.
Once they had climbed the steps to her apartment and Mara had unlocked the door, Roarke paused just over the threshold to get his first good look around. It wasn’t full of the squalor he had been expecting and felt she deserved, nor was it the sort of hovel a thief or criminal might inhabit either. In fact, it was rather clean and cozy with a handful of simple furnishings. It felt like a home.
He instantly frowned, perturbed. “I trust your lover isn’t going to do anything foolish.”
He thought he heard Mara sigh. “I’m going to put on some tea if you’d like a cup.”
Roarke had to snort. She wasn’t going to rise to the bait. Point, Mara.
He followed her to the kitchen where she had just got a fire going in the stove and set a kettle of water on top to boil. He leaned against the door frame and watched as she bustled about the small confines, her precise movements proving that this was a ritual she had done many times in the past. She was so blasted proper, as if this were nothing more than a social call.The very idea that she had gone on with her life, as normal as you please, pricked his anger once more, but he kept his expression even as she eventually poured two cups and took a seat at the modest table. He took the chair opposite her, and for a time, they let the silence drag out between them.
Finally, Roarke leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “I suppose there’s no point in prolonging the inevitable. We both know why I’m here.” He regarded her steadily. “What happened to you?”
Mara calmly set her cup aside and folded her hands before her on the table. “First, let me set one thing straight. Bentley is my friend.Period.”
“Indeed?” Roarke’s lips twisted ruthlessly.
“Yes. But then, I don’t even know why we’re bothering to have this conversation since it’s apparent you want to think the most sordid thing imaginable about me.”
His eyes flashed before he slammed his fist on the table. “I’m here because I want the truth! I’ve been in agony ever since I was told you were dead! How could you have been so cruel?”
“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you. Besides”—standing, she gathered up her cup and saucer and took them to the counter—“you don’t truly want to listen. You just want to harass me until I confess some horrible guilt and beg your forgiveness.” Turning back to him, she crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin defiantly. “Well, I won’t do it.”
Roarke regarded her a moment, his gaze narrowing. “I’m not the monster you think I am, Mara. We both know that. So I’m asking you one more time, why did you go so far as to fake your death to escape me?”
It was the harsh quality of his voice that cut the deepest.
I didn’t leave toescapeyou!she wanted to shout.I did it toprotectyou!
For a brief second, Mara contemplated pouring out her entire story, but then she discounted it just as quickly. He would never accept it, for it was a bitter pill to swallow, even for someone who had lived it.
He would never understand.
In the end, she forced herself to do what she did best—she lied. “The fact of the matter is that we were two reckless children who didn’t know anything beyond our own existence. Our time has come and gone, so whatever you hope to gain by this interrogation is useless. There is nothing between us anymore. Just consider the past as a mistake.” As much as it caused her heart to bleed, Mara forced herself to continue. “Leave here and never look back. Fulfill your duty to your family and your heritage and take a noble wife. Make a home, have lots of children, and forget I ever existed.”
The only sound for several moments was the ticking of the clock before Roarke spoke up softly. “Can you forget?”
Mara felt her lungs freeze. “What?”
Tapping a finger on the arm of his chair, Roarke slowly rose to his feet. His height towered over her even though he was across the room. “Do you really believe anything that you just said, Mara?”
She stiffened when he took a step toward her.
“Granted, you can view our time together however you wish,” he said, “but can you not feel that same attraction, even now?”
