‘How do you know? Did your mother tell you that?’
He stared at her blankly for a moment, then frowned. ‘Of course not. I’ve never spoken to her about him,’ he said in a broken voice. ‘Why would I? When it would only hurt her more?’
She doubted that. The Maria Montoya she had met was a woman who loved her son. Iona couldn’t imagine Maria wanting to see Zane suffer like this, any more than she did. ‘But then how do you know it was rape?’
‘Because I saw them together at the house where we lived, on his father’s estate, when I was twelve years old.’ The bitterness had returned, tenfold. ‘When he tried to do it again.’
‘Oh, God.’ Iona touched shaking fingers to her mouth, so horrified at what both he and his mother had endured she was momentarily speechless. Had he seen his father assaulting his mother? It was too hideous to even contemplate. ‘Zane.’ She stroked his arm, trying to offer what little comfort she could. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s okay—I said he tried. He didn’t get away with it a second time. I saw him pawing her through the
cottage window.’ He shrugged. ‘I thought they were kissing. I’d never seen my mother kiss a man before that.’ His eyes met hers, the pain in them so naked, she felt her heart tearing in her chest. ‘But as I watched through the window, I saw she wasn’t kissing him back, she was struggling. I wanted to help her, to stop him, but I couldn’t move.’
‘Zane, you were probably in shock—it’s not surprising.’ He sounded so guilty, so disgusted with himself.
‘Don’t you get it? I didn’t do anything.’
‘Did he hurt her?’ she asked, praying that he hadn’t.
‘No. She slapped him really hard. And he howled something about what was she getting so pissy about, she’d enjoyed it before. And then I heard her say “I didn’t enjoy it, you raped me—and you know it. Don’t ever come near me again, or I will kill you.” And then he said, “If it was that bad, why did you have the kid?” And then I turned and ran. And I hid. I heard his car leave a few minutes later and when I finally got up the guts to return, she was there, making lunch. Pretending nothing had happened. But I could see her fingers shaking. I wanted to say something. To apologise. To make it better. But what could I say when I was a part of the man that had done that to her?’
‘That’s ridiculous, Zane,’ she whispered. ‘Is that why you won’t acknowledge your brother Nate or his son?’ she asked, understanding it all now, and her heart aching for Zane and his misguided guilt and stupid gallantry. Had the disgust he felt for his father—and for himself—been the trigger for that too? ‘Because you’re trying to protect your mother?’
Couldn’t he see how foolish that was? And how unnecessary? She refused to believe Maria would have asked that of him. So why did he ask it of himself?
He looked stunned for a second, then his brows slashed down in a furious frown. ‘How the hell do you know about Nate and me? You’ve never even met the guy.’
She didn’t flinch at the hoarse accusation.
‘Tess called round this afternoon to bring you this.’ She pulled the invitation out of her pocket. ‘Because she really wants you to go to Brandon’s christening.’
She held out the envelope but he only stared at it, until she lowered it again.
‘She had Brandon with her and I…’ She paused. ‘I mistakenly thought he might be yours. So she explained about you and Nate and we had a cup of tea…And a wee chat.’
He cursed under his breath. ‘What’s a wee chat? Is that Scottish for “I grilled Tess about something that was none of my damn business”?’
The closed fury on his face made it very obvious she’d stepped way over the line. Her throat thickened, the brittle accusation almost as brutal as the dismissal behind it.
If she’d wanted proof that this had never been more than casual for him, she had it now. Unfortunately, seeing the desolation in his eyes a moment ago had also forced her to acknowledge the truth—their relationship had never been casual for her.
In the last month, she’d come to depend on him and the way he made her feel: cherished and important and desirable, but worse than that Zane had made her feel needed, in those moments when he’d let his guard down.
But now she understood he hadn’t needed her at all, not specifically. Everything he’d done for her, even the spectacular sex, had been a symptom of his need to protect her, just as he had needed to protect his mother, and that young girl being brutalised by a drug dealer, and probably every other woman he’d ever encountered.
‘No, it’s Scottish for Tess and I had a mature conversation about a man who matters to me,’ she said, refusing to let him see how much his dismissal had hurt.
‘I matter to you? Then maybe you should butt out of this.’
She flinched but refused to let the uncharacteristic show of temper derail her again. This wasn’t about her. She could see that now.
Clearly Brandon’s birth and his christening had brought Zane’s issues with his father bubbling to the surface in the last year—she’d never been the special someone Tess had talked about; she’d simply been a convenient distraction.
But even so, she didn’t intend to be a doormat too.
‘They love you, Zane,’ she continued. ‘Not just Tess and Nate and your mother, but her family too. Don’t you see how insane it is for you to shut them out, because of some pig-headed idea that you’re responsible for your father’s crimes?’
She would be leaving as soon as was feasibly possible. and she could never tell Zane that she loved him—because it would only be a burden to them both—but she wanted to at least try and make him see how wrong he was about himself.