‘It’s cold, let’s get up to the apartment,’ he said.
She looked exhausted as she nodded. He knew how she felt as he stepped out of the car, walked around to her door to help her out, because he felt about a thousand years old too.
He wanted to touch her, wanted to hold her, wanted to drive into that tight wet warmth once more, hear her sobs of pleasure, smell that glorious scent, which he was very much afraid would haunt him for the rest of his life, and let her love him—or rather let her love the man she thought he was—just one more time. But as they travelled up to the penthouse in silence, he could feel her compassion, her need to heal him, pressing on his conscience like a concrete block and he knew he couldn’t use sex to avoid the truth any longer.
As they took off their coats she said softly, ‘You have to tell them, Alex. They deserve to know the truth. And you don’t deserve to suffer a moment longer.’
The stubborn set of her chin, her honesty and certainty and reckless determination to make things right were so like her, he felt humbled, even as he knew how misguided she was.
She stepped closer to him, pressed her palm to his cheek. He grasped her wrist, tugged the consoling hand away from his face.
‘Don’t...’ he said. She flinched, and he knew he’d hurt her, because she couldn’t disguise it.
But he couldn’t take it any more. Couldn’t lie to her any longer.
He swallowed heavily, determined for once to live up to his word, to be the man he might once have been, if only he’d been able to believe in love and family, and the essential goodness of people, the way she did. But he knew how deluded she was, not just about him, but about all of it.
‘You don’t know me,’ he said. ‘You think I’m some kind of victim, some kind of good guy, but I’m not,’ he continued, because he could still see the sheen of compassion in her eyes. ‘And I never was, even as a little kid. I do what I have to do to look out for number one. Always. And to get what I want. Just like my old man. And just like your so-called parents.’
‘My... What are you talking about?’ she whispered, the blank confusion on her face making his ribs contract. And his heart lurch painfully in his chest.
He hated himself for destroying her innocence. For taking that sweet, tender compassion and the delusions about the people who had pretended to care for her away for ever. But it was way past time she woke up to what they had done to her. He pushed the anger, with them, with his old man, with himself, to the fore to get the words out.
‘They stole you—and gave you a life you should never have had,’ he said flatly. ‘Hiding you on some tiny island, keeping you to themselves when you should have had so much more. I got the DNA test back two days ago. You’re not Eleanor MacGregor and you never were. You’re Eloise Fraser, Roman’s sister.’
‘That’s not true...it canny be,’ she whispered. The stunned emotion in her eyes had his heart splintering, but he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t hold onto the secret any longer.
‘They wouldn’t do that to me,’ she said, but he could see she knew the truth now, from her horrified expression. ‘They loved me.’
She would hate him, he got that. But wasn’t that what he had always deserved?
He grasped her arms as she braced against his hold. ‘They didn’t love you. How could they, when they robbed you of everything?’
She broke away from him, her face a picture of so much pain, he could feel it ripping him apart. He hadn’t meant to tell her like this. He had meant to soften the blow. But this was for the best, he decided. Or how else would she ever realise he was no different from the people who had kidnapped her, who’d lied to her, her whole life?
The tears rushed down her cheeks, but instead of dissolving as he had expected, instead of collapsing, she straightened. Her eyes narrowed, but, instead of pain or confusion, all he saw now was bravery.
It made the empty space in his heart open even further.
She was beautiful, even now. Valiant, courageous, and so fierce.
‘I’ll no believe it,’ she said, the Scottish accent thickening, as it always did when she was upset.
‘A DNA test doesn’t lie,’ he said, suddenly unbearably tired.
‘It’s not that I don’t believe the truth of the test,’ she said, the hurt replaced with anger. ‘It’s their motives. Theydidlove me. In their own way. They showed me that every day. If they took me from that wreck, they must have believed it was the right thing to do.’
He swore viciously, angry too, now, that she couldn’t see what was right in front of her eyes. ‘The right thing for them, you mean, not you. Can’t you see, they kept you there all those years to protect themselves, not you? There’s no excuse.’ Any more than there was any excuse for what he had done, to destroy his mother, his family, all to placate a man who had never deserved his loyalty. ‘Are you really so naïve you’ll forgive them? Even now?’
He went to take her arm again, suddenly desperate to hold her, to show her, to force her to see the truth.
She pushed him away, her voice steely and so cold it chilled his heart. ‘Don’t touch me...You knew.For two days. And you didn’t tell me? Why didn’t you?’
He raked his fingers through his hair. ‘Isn’t it obvious? Because I still wanted to sleep with you,’ he said, knowing it was the only explanation that made any sense. ‘And I figured once you knew you weren’t a pauper anymore, you might not be so amenable.’
She flinched, her hand covering her mouth. ‘You bastard.’
She shook her head, and then she fled into the bedroom. He could hear her packing. He stood waiting, his heart shattering all over again.