heart lurched as his words once again swirled in her mind. I can’t have another destroyed life on my conscience.
Her eyes rose back to his face. He was watching her with that incisive look that seemed to see right into her soul. He took a slow sip, savouring the wine before swallowing.
‘Contain your righteous indignation. You’ll have to fall on your sword a hell of a lot more times before you breach the surface of my mercy. But I have a few minutes to spare, so please...carry on.’
She sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I never intended for you to...for anyone to suffer for what I did.’ Her gaze dropped to his midriff. His mouth tightened. ‘If you could find it in your heart—’
His mocking laughter stopped her painful pleas. ‘My heart?’
She gripped the edge of the table. ‘I don’t see the funny side to what I just said.’
‘My heart is the last organ you should be attempting to appease.’
‘I don’t... I’m afraid you’ve lost me.’
His smile held that hint of sadness she’d glimpsed at their first meeting in Rio. ‘You’d be wasting your time trying to appeal to something that doesn’t exist.’
JASMINE STARED AT HIM, trying to work out if he was mocking her or not. He wasn’t. That bleak look was deepening and his breathing was growing shallow and choppy as if he was caught in a distressing memory.
Before she could stop herself, she reached out and touched his arm.
He flinched. Brows clamped together, he stared down at her. ‘What are you doing?’
‘You seem a little...lost.’
One corner of his mouth lifted. ‘And you thought you’d rescue me?’ he bit out.
‘Yes. Obviously, I was wrong to do so.’ She turned away, unable to stomach the wildly volatile moods she experienced around this man. One minute she wanted to hurt him for his mockery, the next she wanted to ease whatever emotional pain haunted him.
And it was clear he was suffering. As for his reference to his non-existent heart, the lengths he was willing to go to for his people proved otherwise.
‘You were talking about your stepfather?’
She frowned. ‘I’m not sure that I want to any more.’
‘Because I’m not whimpering with sympathy?’
‘Because you pretend you’re devoid of empathy, but I know that’s not true.’
‘Your dubious powers of deduction at work again?’
She perched on the edge of the table and folded her arms before the temptation to touch him spiralled out of control. Far from being cold as he tried to portray, Reyes was warm, passionate.
Any woman would be lucky to have him as her husband...
Her thoughts screeched to a halt. The stone that had lodged itself in her belly since his announcement in his study grew larger.
Which was ludicrous. All they’d shared was a one-night stand. An incredible one for her, but a brief, meaningless one nonetheless.
She had no right to experience this ongoing bewildering pain in her heart when she thought of what he planned to do. And the idea that he wasn’t looking to marry for the short term, but for ever, shouldn’t make her world darken with despair.
She had no claim on Reyes...
Jasmine started when he lifted his glass and abruptly drained his wine. She jerked upright when he lifted an imperious hand and summoned a guard, who’d been somewhere tucked out of her sight.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Since you’re unwilling to carry on even the semblance of conversation, I’m having you escorted to your suite. We’ll meet at noon tomorrow and you’ll present me with a list of suitable candidates.’
Her fingers curled around the edge of the table at the thought of the task she’d been set. She wanted to refuse; wanted to tell him she’d rather rot in jail than help him find the next woman to warm his bed.
But how could she go back on her word to do whatever was needed to right her wrong?
One of his bodyguards approached. He wasn’t the one who’d accosted her in the gardens this morning. In fact, from being a constant shadow, that other guard seemed to have disappeared.
This guard nodded at whatever Reyes was saying to him.
‘Wait!’
Reyes lifted a bored brow at her.
‘It’s still early.’ At his continued indolent look, she pursed her lips. ‘Fine, I’ll talk. My stepfather is perfect in every sense, except when it comes to his gambling.’
She looked from Reyes to the bodyguard. After several heartbeats, Reyes dismissed the guard with a sharp nod. Walking past where she remained perched, he grabbed the half-finished bottle of wine, frowned at her untouched glass and refilled his own. He sat down, crossing his legs, so his thighs were dangerously close to her knee.
Jasmine pulled stronger on her runaway composure. ‘He’s a kind, gentle man and he cares deeply for my mother.’
A look passed through his eyes, but was gone before she could work out what it meant.
‘Where does your biological father fit into this scenario?’
His voice lacked mockery, a fact for which she was thankful. ‘He left when I was barely out of nappies. And he was the first in a long line of “fathers”,’ she quoted, ‘who came and went before I was a teenager.’
Reyes sipped his wine. Said nothing.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ she ventured when the silence stretched.
His eyes gleamed. ‘I sincerely doubt that.’
She shrugged. ‘Well, whether you’re thinking it or not, my past shaped me. I was angry with the world and with a mother who couldn’t see how hopeless the men she dated were. By the time my stepfather came along, I was...in a bad way.’
‘How bad?’
Jasmine didn’t want to tell him. Didn’t want to see the contempt in his eyes, or relive the bleakest point in her life. She’d been there, done that, and wore the shame underneath her skin and physical scars on her body.
She didn’t want to go there, but Reyes’s steady gaze demanded an answer.
‘A spell in juvenile detention when I was sixteen,’ she found herself confessing.
He froze. ‘Dios...’ he murmured.
Thick
