“Helena is only a few years older than you.”
“And yet you’re very close.”
“On what do you base this conclusion?”
“I’ve seen you together. I have two sisters, remember? Sisters I’m close to. I understand the dynamic. The dependence. The silent ability we have of communicating to one another that baffles outsiders.” Her smile was richly enigmatic and his desire kicked up a notch.
“Is this how it is between us?”
“Between us?”
“Between Helena and me,” he clarified with a tight smile.
“Oh.” Her cheeks burned and she rolled her eyes, embarrassed by her own wishful stupidity. “Yes. She looks at you and it’s as though she’s spoken. You get her.”
“In a way her husband doesn’t?” He prompted silkily.
“Oh.” Sophie was stricken. “That’s not really my place to say.” Her words all rushed together, and though Alex’s English was impeccable, he had to concentrate to decipher them through her accent and haste.
“You are uniquely placed to say,” he corrected.
Sophie forced her gaze to meet his, and her heart kicked in her chest. He was so beautiful. So breath-takingly stunning. “What are you really asking me?”
Did she suspect that he knew? Or did she know that he suspected? He brushed his foot against hers beneath the table, enjoying the way her eyes widened instantly at the surprise contact.
“My sister was very young when she married Eric. He is ambitious. I wonder sometimes if he is making her happy.”
Eric’s worry that Alex would interfere in his marriage came to the fore of her mind. And yet what could Sophie say? To deny that Helena was miserable didn’t sit comfortably with her. Her breathing was shallow; her lungs seemed to burn with confusion. “Working in someone’s house requires a level of discretion. I’m there, but I’m not there. And I’m certainly not there to judge, nor gossip.”
“Gossip,” he refuted with a sharp laugh. “I am her brother. Eric is my friend.”
“Yes,” she nodded, but her eyes glinted with determination. “And I’m sure they would both appreciate my discretion.”
“You are discreet as a matter of course then?” He asked, thinking of what a necessary quality that would be in conducting an affair with her married employer.
“Of course. It goes with the job.”
Alex felt frustration licking at his heels. He had bet on bedding her, but not on finding her this fascinating. He had also not imagined she might prove so difficult to comprehend.
“You’re very protective of her.”
“Helena?” Alex clarified, pausing while the waiter served their main course. The delicious aroma of curries and accompaniments surrounded them and Sophie inhaled gratefully.
When he began speaking, she’d almost forgotten what she’d asked. “My own parents died when I was eleven. Helena was four.”
“Oh, Alex. I’m so sorry.”
“We had no other family. My parents were very happy, but very poor. Our apartment was tiny and rented. We were evicted the day after the funeral.”
“That’s terrible. I’m so sorry,” she said again, for want of anything else she could possibly say.
He smiled dismissively. “We were put into foster care.” He compressed his lips and wondered why he was telling Sophie this. He had never spoken of that torrid time in his life to another soul. He had kept it out of the press. It was his silent shame and personal pain. Did he want her to feel guilt? To pity the woman she was wounding with her callous cheating? “But the parents were … let us just say they epitomised the worst of the system.” His smile was grim.
“I’m so sorry.” She seemed to be repeating herself, but the thought of two such young siblings going through what he was describing sent a shiver down her spine.
“We ran away. Or rather, I ran away, and dragged Helena after me.”
“What did you do?” She was transfixed.