‘My God. I kinda want to do...bodily harm,’ she bit out, her breath hissing before she regained control. I was touched by that reaction. Ashamed to admit that I’d been looking for those signs of outrage, signs that she understood that this was as vital and necessary to me as breathing. Seeing her reaction only made me want her more.
‘You trusted her?’ she asked, her tone gentle with sympathy. ‘Enough to surrender yourself to her? You must’ve or you wouldn’t be...’ She stopped and I was grudgingly grateful she didn’t spell out what a fool I’d been taken for.
Still, bitterness flayed me, gouging deep at the soul-searing betrayal. ‘Like I said, she walked the walk, convincingly enough to believe she had enough to achieve her ultimate goal.’
Graciela frowned. ‘Which was what?’
I paused, unwilling to admit that last piece of Stephanie’s deplorable intentions for the simple fact that I’d never seen it coming. But...what the hell? ‘She ingratiated herself into the lifestyle merely to land herself a meal ticket either through a husband with a fat wallet or blackmail.’
Graciela jerked upright. ‘She blackmailed you?’
My nod felt jerky, my emotions ragged and raw. ‘Her next move after I threw her out was an email threatening to expose our sex life unless I paid her a million pounds.’
‘I... Why would she—?’
My smile was crooked...off. ‘She believed I would be too ashamed. Real men didn’t submit. Her words.’
Graciela’s jaw tightened. ‘Now I definitely want to do harm. What did you do?’
‘I called her bluff.’
Fire lit in my mistress’s eyes. ‘That’s...ballsy.’
I basked in her quiet admiration, meeting her gaze, mine unwavering. ‘I’m not ashamed of who I am. I may have taken a while to embrace that part of myself, but once I did, I was all in. Am all in.’
‘I understand that, but there’s a difference between moving on and having your business displayed all over the streets. Especially a man in your position. That’s what she was counting on, right?’
‘Yes. Her business was doing okay, but she had far loftier aspirations. She craved prestige, and she was willing to do anything to achieve it. Unfortunately for her, she thought threatening to expose me to my family would be the way to go. She was wrong.’
My mention of family drew a watchful look. ‘So your family knows?’
I shrugged, unwilling to admit the undercurrent of tension between my mother and I meant that while I’d protect her to my last breath, inhabiting the same room for a long period of time was a strain. One I avoided until it became unavoidable. Like at Christmas. I pushed the looming visit from my mind and answered. ‘We haven’t had an open conversation about it, no.’
‘You think they’ll be okay with it?’ she asked, a touch apprehensive as she awaited my answer.
‘I am what I am and that’s not changing. They’ll have to be.’
‘Even your father?’
‘Stepfather,’ I gritted out. ‘My father is no longer in the picture. Hasn’t been for years.’
Questions blazed in her eyes, but she didn’t press me for answers.
Which was redundant because I confessed anyway. ‘He was a deplorable human being.’
Her eyes softened in sympathy. ‘I know a thing or two about deplorable human beings.’
‘Yeah?’ I encouraged.
She remained silent for several seconds and then she shrugged. ‘My parents. They were probably as deplorable as your father.’
Despite the warmth in the cabin, icy fingers danced down my spine as memory pounded like a tide against rocks, battering my need to keep them on a tight leash.
‘I really hope not.’ Just the thought of Graciela being subjected to what my sister and I had gone through made my insides ice over with cold fury. ‘Did your father batter your mother every damned chance he got for no fucking reason? Did your mother make excuses for his behaviour, lie about the true extent of the abuse, even though it was plain to see?’ I didn’t blame my mother for her inability to end the cycle of abuse before I took matters into my own hands, but it sure as fuck made trusting her an issue.
Her mouth dropped open, eyes filling with raw pain. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘Not to my knowledge, anyway.’
‘Did he lay his hands on you or your brothers?’
She paled. ‘He did that to you?’
I nodded, memory scraping over wounds still raw despite the passing years. ‘Until I was tall and strong enough to stop him. But I didn’t know why then and I sure as hell don’t know why now. Some people are wired that way, I guess.’
‘Jesus, Jensen, I’m so sorry.’
I laughed, the bitter sound grating my throat. ‘How the hell do you do that?’
‘Do what?’
‘Slide so easily beneath my skin?’
She looked startled for the moment and then she shifted her gaze to the wine glass, examining its contents before she took a sip. ‘It’s a unique talent not everyone appreciates.’
‘By everyone you mean...?’
She lifted her gaze. ‘It’s got me into more trouble than it’s worth.’
‘What kind?’
Her nostrils flared, more with pain than the discomfort of laying her secrets bare. ‘I drove a wedge between myself and my brothers, for one.’
‘How?’
She averted her gaze again, staring long and deep into the fire.
I recaptured her foot, massaging her instep as she tapped a finger restlessly against the glass. ‘My parents didn’t abuse us physically, but they didn’t think twice about abandoning us when we were young. I was too stubborn to accept that. Hell, I believed I could single-handedly fix our dysfunctional family. So I pushed and I pushed until it broke us.’
I opened my mouth to ask, but she sent me a look that drove the words back down my throat. ‘Tell me another story,’ she commanded.
My mistress was fully back in residence and I wasn’t allowed to deny her.
I didn’t want to.
I raised her other foot, kissed her in exactly the same spot. This time she didn’t pull away.
And it scared me
