Stunned by what he was telling her, Ava shook her head. ‘No. His father died in a boating accident.’
‘Your father was driving it.’
‘I know, but... You think Baden believes he should be the heir to the throne in Anders?’
‘That’s what it looks like.’
‘But why do something now? Why not get rid of me and Frédéric years ago?’
‘He might not have considered it. He might be off his meds. Or perhaps your father’s illness has made him panic.’
Ava refused to countenance Wolfe’s ideas.
‘How could he expect to get away with such a thing?’
‘That’s the part only he knows.’
His expression grew remote and she felt him mentally withdraw from her when he stood up.
‘All you need to know is that it’s over. You can go home.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘IT’S OVER. You can go home.’
Ava shivered. She knew Wolfe meant more than the threat to her life was over, and it made the four-hour flight to Anders interminable. She spent the whole time thinking about every way imaginable to tell him that she loved him and didn’t want him to leave, but came up empty.
She’d nearly blurted it out in his kitchen, when he’d told her he was jealous, but he’d tensed up like a lone lion with a pack of hungry hyenas approaching and distracted her. She suspected that move had been because he had guessed what she’d been about to say and didn’t want to hear it. And why would he? It wasn’t as if she would be giving him some prized gift he’d waited his whole life to receive.
And on top of that her period had arrived midflight. She didn’t know how she felt about that, having thought all afternoon about what it would be like to carry Wolfe’s baby. But she knew she hadn’t been relieved to find his bathroom well stocked with female hygiene products. Though that had been a timely reminder that he was a man who enjoyed women. And plenty of them. And knowing why, knowing that his mother had left him over and over and no doubt given him a healthy dose of abandonment issues in the process, didn’t make the reality of his choices any easier to bear.
Still feeling torn about what to do when the plane finally landed, she moved to the open doorway and paused. A fierce wind whipped her hair around her head. She saw her father and, surprisingly, Lorenzo waiting beside one of the palace cars, and she wished she was wearing more than one of Wolfe’s shirts tied in a knot at the waist and a pair of his jeans rolled at both ends.
She felt Wolfe come up behind her and turned, expecting that he would accompany her down onto the tarmac. As soon as she saw the remote expression on his face she knew instantly that he wasn’t going to. And, unlike the last time he had flown her home, she would have welcomed his support now.
‘You’re not coming,’ she said unnecessarily, straightening her spine as if his actions meant nothing to her.
Wolfe hesitated and then shook his head. ‘No. I have another job to go to.’
Oh. She hadn’t thought of that. ‘Where is it?’
‘That’s confidential.’
And dangerous. He didn’t have to add that.
Ava gripped the inside of the open doorway, remembering all those scars on his body.
‘I won’t be back.’
She nodded slowly, feeling as if her stomach was about to upend its entire contents all over his shiny shoes. He looked at her warily, as if he was expecting her to kick up a fuss and stamp her feet—beg him to stay, perhaps. And she wanted to. She wanted to do all those things. But she wouldn’t.
For one thing her father was waiting with what looked like the entire police force in attendance, and for another...Wolfe was too closed. Too distant.
Saying I love you seemed like too big a leap to make in the face of his implacable regard, and it wasn’t as if it would change the outcome in any way. He was leaving. He couldn’t make that any plainer.
‘I can see that.’
His eyes snapped to hers, as if he was surprised by her lack of argument. ‘I can’t give you what you want, Ava. I’m sorry.’
He was sorry?
Ava shook her head at his pitiful comment. No way was she accepting that cop-out. ‘How do you know? You haven’t even asked what I want.’ She knew there was an edge of frustration in her voice but she couldn’t contain it. ‘The truth is, Wolfe, you don’t want to give me what I want because you have trained yourself not to need anyone. To be like that island you own. But you’re not, and if you’re honest with yourself you’ll realise that your mother’s actions hurt you just as much as they did your brother. Maybe more.’