“Have we?” She simpered, biting into the pappadum and swallowing the piece whole.
“You were telling me about your air-bubble.”
She lifted her water and sipped it slowly. It wasn’t his fault that her emotions were zipping all over the place. Something had slipped loose in her usual resolve and now it was up to Sophie to pick up the pieces.
“It was my mother’s doing. She was determined that we would enjoy a beautiful youth.”
“Why?”
“Because she never had one,” Sophie said simply. “Her parents were poor, and she had to get a job when she was young. She grew up in Manhattan and she got a part time job in a record store, but it took her almost an hour to get there on three different busses. As soon as she found out she was pregnant with us, she drove off into the sunset.”
“To Australia? That seems … both drastic and brave.”
“Yes to both. That was my mum though. Brave and fearless, and determined as hell.” She sipped on her soda water, and told herself that the burning in her throat came from the bubbles and not the cloying threat of
tears. “She was diving when she died.” Her eyes were prickling with the sting of unshed salt. “Countless people have said to me, ‘at least she died doing something she loved’.”
Alex made a sound of frustration. “A pointless platitude. Far better to live and spend many more years doing what she loved than to die needlessly.”
Sophie’s heart turned over in her chest. “Yes, exactly. That is exactly as I feel. It almost seems worse that we lost her to diving. As though one of her great loves betrayed her.”
He pushed his sympathy deep down in his gut. He didn’t want to feel it for this woman. He couldn’t forget, no matter how enchanting her stories were, that she was a danger to him, for she was a danger to his sister.
“And your father?” He enquired silkily.
Sophie shrugged. “We never knew him.”
“Never? He chose not to be in your lives?”
“Apparently.” She bit down on her lip, a habit of hers he found distracting to the extreme.
“You’ve never contacted him?”
“No.”
“You don’t want him in your life.” A statement, not a question.
“I don’t know how to contact him,” she corrected, careful to keep emotion flattened from her tone.
“What do you mean?” His eyes narrowed as he studied her.
“Whoever he is, he wanted no part of mum when she told him she was pregnant. From what we know, which isn’t a lot, he paid her off to stay out of his life and keep quiet.”
Something like anger rolled through Alex. Anger at this man? At his lack of integrity? “How old was your mother?”
“Twenty four. My age.”
“A baby.”
“Hardly. How old are you?”
His laugh was a rich sound. “Thirty four.”
“A decade between us.” She reclined in her chair and studied his face. He had an ageless quality to him. Skin that was flawlessly tanned and eyes that were mysterious and loaded with emotion. “You are older than Helena,” Sophie said, moving her hands to her lap and clasping them there.
At the mention of his sister, Alex seemed to stiffen momentarily. “Ne.”
Her pulse fired in response to his sexy utterance. It reminded her of the way he’d whispered foreign words into her mouth while they made love. She dipped her eyes away.