“There was a time in my life when things became difficult; I turned to drugs.” He said it so matter of factly. “I wanted to escape. Your cousin helped me break the habit; he helped me back to myself.”
“What did you want to escape?”
His response was to shift slightly in his seat, angling his body away from hers in the minutest way. “Memories.”
She took the hint; he didn’t want to talk about it. But gnawing frustration chasmed into curiosity. She wanted to know. Selfishly, she wanted him to talk, but how could she push him when he was drawing this line between them?
Strange, that she felt so close to him. That she’d felt close to him almost from the moment he’d arrived.
A tremor ran the length of her spine as a danger siren blared.
She’d avoided relationships for a long time, and this was why. It was hard to keep your distance from people. It was hard to give all your focus to a sport if you became distracted.
And Leonidas Xenakis had an overwhelming capacity to distract.
Ignoring her curiosity was important for Mila, too.
“Where are we going?” She asked instead.
“Somewhere very private.”
“I thought I’d already done that,” she said quietly. After all, Benji’s house was effectively removed from the world.
“I’d like to ask you some questions.”
“Like what?”
“About your movements.”
“I told you, I have to be flexible, it’s part of the sport,” she said, then shook her head. “Sorry. I make jokes when I’m stressed.”
He nodded, his features not shifting. Anxiety beaded her brow. Not because she was scared of Leonidas but because she was intimidated by him. He was physically stunning, but it was his demeanor that made her insides chill. He was so authoritative and efficient, his expression so firm, as though it had been carved from stone. She could just imagine how it would feel to be his adversary. Not only that, he was clearly concerned, which made her even more worried.
“When did you arrive in Croatia?”
She counted back the dates in her mind. “Twenty two days ago.”
“How did you get there?”
“I swam.”
At his look of impatience, she lifted her hands in the air by way of apology.
“I took a flight, obviously.”
“Which airline?”
“British Air.”
“Were you in coach or first?”
“Economy. Why?”
“I’m just getting a full picture. Did you feel as though you were being watched at all?”
She shivered. “Have you ever been stalked, Leonidas?”
His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly at the use of his name. “Not that I know of.”