retreated below deck. Len, the Scottish chef he employed, became her one true friend and mentor. Over the next few years he’d taught her everything he knew. But then Charles sacked Len and told Zara to take over the food prep full time. At the time she’d thought it had been to spite her, but in hindsight she realised it was one of several signs of the financial failure he was verging on.
By then she’d long since lost contact with her school friends. She was isolated, lonely and trapped; her uncle held her passport and was the sole trustee of her finances—and the money her parents had left her?
All gone. Didn’t she know how much it had cost her uncle to house her? Wasn’t she grateful for that?
Her uncle Charles had been embarrassed that she’d had to wait on his unexpected, important guests. She wasn’t decorative enough—not thin enough, not perfect enough. Not for investment guru, Tomas Gallo, and his lawyer, Jasper Danforth. She was the useless, mousy niece he’d inherited and had never wanted.
But for that business meeting she’d had to be the hostess as well as prepare the coffee and cakes. When she’d caught sight of Tomas Gallo as she’d carried the tea tray into the room, she’d nearly dropped everything.
He’d not appeared to notice when she spilt some of the coffee, but he’d eaten some of the lemon slice. Two pieces in fact.
She’d sat in the corner, mute, suffering silently as her uncle had made joke after joke at her expense. She’d been bowled over by Tomas’s appearance and the bottomless depths of his eyes. He was the most striking man she’d ever seen but he and Jasper had appeared amused, as if they’d agreed with every one of her uncle’s words. And she’d died that bit inside to see that someone so gorgeous could be so cruel.
Almost an hour had passed when Tomas had dropped the bombshell.
‘Sorry, Charles, I don’t think the casino is the right fit for us at this time.’
Her uncle had been beyond furious at losing the investment. He’d been unable to contain his rage, venting it on her down in the galley while the two guests upstairs were readying to leave. She’d stared at the floor as he’d berated her in a bitter hoarse whisper.
‘You’re worse than useless. If you were attractive you could have seduced him. But as if any man would ever want you. You’re a millstone, you ungrateful, lazy little cow. You can’t even pour a coffee properly.’
The blow had come sudden and hard. It had stung so much.
She’d run from the galley only to collide in the corridor with Tomas Gallo. She’d gasped, appalled that he was down there—that he might have heard...
* * *
Firm hands held her upper arms and she flinched when she looked into his thunderous face. He quickly stepped back into the side room, lifting her with him and swiftly closing the door behind them.
‘Don’t be afraid,’ he muttered harshly.
But the lethal anger in his eyes told her he was so very much more dangerous than her uncle. He visibly made himself relax and force a small smile. That was when she realised his fury was not for her.
‘He hit you.’ He tilted her chin and inspected the red of her upper cheek.
‘It doesn’t matter.’ She wanted him to leave before her uncle found out he was down here and made everything worse.
‘It always matters,’ he replied curtly.
Her heart was his in that second.
Tomas released her and she dashed the tears away with the back of her hand, willing him to go back up to the deck and leave with his lawyer. But he didn’t.
‘You’ve lived here how long?’ he abruptly asked. ‘How long?’ he prompted when she didn’t answer.
‘Almost ten years,’ she whispered.
‘You have money?’
She shook her head.
‘Passport?’
‘My uncle...’ She trailed off hopelessly.
‘I see.’
* * *
Yes, she’d known he saw more than she’d ever wanted anyone to see—not only had he seen through her uncle’s ‘joking’ façade to the emotional abuse that it was symptomatic of, he’d witnessed the occasional physical violence her uncle subjected her to. She’d hated that she hadn’t the strength or resources to leave, she’d loathed the depth of her dependence on her uncle. Flushing with mortification, she’d made to push past Tomas but he’d grabbed her arm again. She’d been forced to meet his gaze. There she’d read the steel and the concern, the sympathy and—to her shock—empathy.
It was as if he’d understood, because he’d been there himself.
But that had to have been her own projection. She’d wanted out for so long, but she’d become so trapped by imposed gratitude, felt so beholden and been so downtrodden, she hadn’t known which way to turn or how to get herself out of it. She’d had no money, no chance to study, or to work. She’d been made to feel as if she owed Uncle Charles everything.
* * *
‘Do you want out?’ Tomas asked bluntly.
‘Out?’ She blinked uncomprehendingly. ‘You mean do I want to leave?’
‘Yes. Do you want me to help you?’
His question was brusque and unexpected. She instinctively knew he wasn’t going to wait for her to um and ah. He wasn’t going to cajole or try to convince her. This was a single offer and she had a single second to decide.
She nodded.
‘Follow my lead.’ He let her go and turned towards the stairs. ‘No matter what.’
Back up on deck Jasper was standing with his briefcase in hand. Her uncle was attempting to hide his anger and disappointment by talking incessantly about the tourism boom. Zara stood terrified at a distance, knowing her uncle would be even angrier that she’d returned to the deck.
‘Sit back down, Jasper,’ Tomas said with deceptive softness. ‘I’ve had some time to think about things some more while freshening up.’
‘You have?’ The glow of bitterness in her uncle’s eyes morphed to avaricious excitement. ‘Go fetch more drinks, Zara. Now.’
‘No, I want her to stay,’ Tomas overruled him firmly. ‘She’s a crucial detail to this possible deal.’
Cold sweat slid down Zara’s spine. Surely he wouldn’t call her uncle out for hitting her? She sent Tomas a desperate look, but he wasn’t looking at her at all.
‘I want your niece,’ Tomas said bluntly. ‘I’ll invest in your casino operations, but only if I have Zara.’
Zara’s heart stopped. She couldn’t have heard right.
‘You
