How very interesting. He sat forward resting his elbows on his thighs. “And Robin? Does she treat you poorly, too?”
A harsh laugh erupted from her as she set the sandwich on the table. “Robin is the ringleader, or maybe it’s her father. I can’t recall which one is worse.”
“Really? Robin treats you badly?”
Brooke raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Badly is a nice word for it. She always turns her nose up at me, spreads false gossip, and she’s rude right to my face. She makes me feel worthless.” Her voice softened. “Which I guess I am.”
A spurt of anger shot through him. How could Robin do something like that to her own cousin? As his rage grew, he jumped out of the chair and moved to sit beside her on the sofa. Without thinking, he placed his hand upon her knee. Her gaze quickly riveted to his. He looked past the fright in her eyes.
“Brooke, you’re not worthless, and I won’t have you thinking that way about yourself. Whatever happened in your life can’t be as bad as you think. You just have to realize Robin’s a snob and looks down her nose at a lot of people.” He waited for her to say something, but she continued looking at him with those irresistible emerald eyes. “Did Robin treat you that way because you’re poor?”
She blinked. “My family isn’t poor. Of course, we’re not as wealthy as her father, but we’re far from being poor.”
He waited for her to say more, maybe tell him something about her past, so he might understand better, but she pushed his hand off her knee and scooted away.
He hesitated to ask but had to regardless. “You didn’t... um, kill someone did you?”
Her eyes flew back to his and her expression hardened. “No, but I wish I had. Maybe my life would be different.”
Her half-answers made him more curious, and he had to know her secret. “What did you do that was so awful?”
Tears welled in her eyes before she withdrew her gaze. She stood and walked to the window. Through the reflection on the glass, he saw pain etched across her face, her frown and her lips pulled tight. She swallowed and blinked. “The snow is falling harder now.” Her voice quivered.
Justin moved off the sofa and stood behind her. He had the urge to take her in his arms and comfort her but held back. She’d definitely pull away. This past hour and a half made him realize how stubborn and independent she was. Or at least she tried to be.
“You know, Brooke.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and lightly massaged them. Her body stiffened, but he continued. “If you talk about your problems, it’ll make you feel better. Keeping them bottled inside will only make you feel worse. They’ll build until one day you’ll explode, and then you might regret your actions.”
She hiccupped a laugh. “You sound like a psychiatrist.”
“Then why don’t you pretend I am? Go ahead, Miss Cavanaugh, open up to me.” He turned her around to face him. “How else can I help you if you don’t open yourself up?”
He held his breath, waiting for her to tell him her horrible secret. But if she did, would he be able to help at all? Or would the desire boiling inside him right now just complicate matters?
FIVE
BROOKE’S MIND FOUGHTan internal battle against her heart. She wanted to talk, but couldn’t. She hadn’t really opened to anyone, not even her own psychiatrist. It was hard when nobody believed her. Forming the words in her mind, she tried to speak, but nothing would come.
