moistened the dryness of her lips with the tip of her pink tongue. ‘What happened when you were twelve?’
Xander’s jaw tightened. ‘My father died.’
Malcolm had been emotionally cruel, deliberately so, but he had never been physically violent, either towards herself or Daisy. Until today, Sam reminded herself with a frown. Today Malcolm had felt absolutely no compunction about hurting her. In fact, she thought he had rather enjoyed it.
She swallowed. ‘How?’
‘Shortly after putting me in the hospital with a broken arm and concussion, my father fell down the stairs in a drunken stupor and broke his neck.’
‘I don’t recall any of this ever being in the newspapers.’
‘It wasn’t,’ he confirmed abruptly. ‘No one outside of my close family has ever known about the abuse.’
Sam was absolutely horrified at the thought of this man’s childhood. ‘Xander.’
‘Samantha, I didn’t tell you this so that your compassionate heart would feel sorry for me.’
‘It doesn’t,’ she assured swiftly, knowing that Xander’s pride was such that he wouldn’t want, or welcome, pity from anyone. That the self-confident man he had become, the caring man he was towards Daisy, the empathy he had just shown her, were clear evidence that he had risen above his abusive childhood.
‘Not even a little bit?’
‘Well, of course a little bit!’ Sam replied exasperatedly, a large part of her wishing that Xander’s father were still alive, so that she could verbally upbraid him for his treatment of his son.
As a way of slaying Xander’s dragon for him in a way that she couldn’t seem to slay her own?
She grimaced. ‘I would have to be completely heartless to remain immune to what you’ve just told me about your childhood,’ she assured him briskly.
If he was honest with himself, Xander was feeling a little off-kilter now that he had actually spoken to Samantha about his father. He really didn’t discuss his private life with people outside his family. Ever. And yet he had just done so with Samantha.
Admittedly it had been as a way of encouraging Samantha to feel that she could confide in him about her ex-husband, that she could trust him, but even so it was something Xander had never imagined sharing with any woman.
And yet...
He had confided in Samantha as a way of letting her know she could trust him with her own secrets, he had never imagined that by doing so he would somehow feel...free. As if a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
And his heart.
XANDER GAVE A humourless smile. ‘Maybe you would feel differently about all that and about me, if I were to tell you that for the past few months I’ve been inwardly fighting the possibility that I might actually be like him?’
‘That’s utterly ridiculous,’ Samantha dismissed without hesitation.
Xander’s eyes widened at the absolute certainty in her voice. ‘What makes you say that?’
She smiled confidently. ‘I may not have known you for very long, Xander, but I do know you well enough to be able to see you are totally incapable of hurting a woman or a child. You obviously didn’t want Daisy and I here, and yet you have been incredibly kind to both of us. So much so that Daisy adores you,’ she added firmly even as she stepped forward to place the palm of her hand on Xander’s chest. ‘There’s a good heart in there, Xander Sterne. A kind heart. One that wants to protect, not destroy.’
Xander looked down at her searchingly, breathing shallowly beneath the warm touch of her hand on his chest. ‘Do you really believe that?’ he finally asked.
‘I know it.’ Sam nodded.
Even after only a few days in his company Sam knew that initial fear she’d had, that he might be selfish and controlling like Malcolm, because he was even richer and more powerful than her ex-husband, wasn’t even a possibility. Xander was arrogant and self-confident, and grumpy—no surprise given his present situation and the pain he was suffering.
But ultimately he had a good heart, a kind heart; his care and consideration of Daisy these past three days had proved that. As did his concern for her now. Sam had absolutely no doubt that Xander was a man who protected, that he was totally incapable of lashing out physically at a woman or child in temper.
‘We may have our parents’ genes, Xander,’ she said quietly. ‘You have your father’s, as Daisy has her father’s, but I have yet to see any of Malcolm in Daisy. Or any of the father that you have just described to me in you.’ Her eyed narrowed. ‘You had your car accident six weeks ago?’
‘Sorry?’ Xander frowned at her sudden change of subject.
‘You said that you’ve been questioning yourself for the past few months as to whether or not you might be like your father,’ Sam reminded him as she stepped back and allowed her hand to fall back to her side. ‘Did your accident have anything to do with that?’
Xander gave a rueful grimace at her astuteness. ‘Something had been building inside me for weeks before that night, but that night I witnessed a man in the Midas nightclub verbally berating and humiliating the woman he was with. And I wanted to pulverise him into the ground,’ he acknowledged grimly.
‘A perfectly understandable reaction; I would have wanted to pulverise him too,’ Samantha assured vehemently. ‘Did you do it?’
‘No.’ A nerve pulsed in Xander’s tightly clenched jaw. ‘I wanted to, but somehow managed to keep control long enough to pass the problem off to security.’
‘Doesn’t that restraint prove to you that you’re nothing like your father?’ Samantha gave him an encouraging smile. ‘That you never could be?’
Xander continued to look down at her for several long minutes, before drawing in a deep breath. ‘Thank you for that. I appreciate it, after all I’ve just told you.’
He did appreciate Samantha’s confidence, belief, in him. More than he could possibly say. More than he dared think about, when Samantha seemed so determined to keep him at arm’s length, physically, at least. For the moment he would settle for her opening up to him emotionally.
‘I want to help you, if I can, Samantha,’ he encouraged gruffly. ‘You aren’t without powerful friends of your own now,’ he pointed out softly. ‘Andy and Darius. And now me.’
Was Xander her friend?
Sure, he had become fond of Daisy these past four days, but things had been so strained between the two of them since Saturday evening, that Sam had been sure Xander must be counting the days until she left his apartment.
His concern now and the confidences he had shared with her regarding his own childhood, while not exactly making them friends, had certainly broken down the barriers they had both
