Название | The Complete Boardroom Collection |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Yvonne Lindsay |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Mills & Boon e-Book Collections |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474083058 |
He was pulling down Serena’s socks now, distracting her from his words and the bitterness she could hear in his voice. He sucked in a breath when he saw the angry raw blisters.
‘That’s my fault.’
Serena blinked. Had Luca just said that? And had he sounded ever so slightly apologetic? Together with his obvious concern for others, it made her uncomfortable.
He looked at her, face unreadable. ‘New boots. They weren’t broken in. It’s no wonder you’ve got blisters. You must have been in agony for hours.’
Serena shrugged minutely and looked away, self-conscious under his searing gaze. ‘I’m no martyr, Luca. I just didn’t want to delay you.’
‘The truth is,’ he offered somewhat sheepishly, ‘I hadn’t expected you to last this far. I would have put money on you opting out well before we’d even left Rio.’
Something light erupted inside Serena and for a moment their eyes met and locked. Her insides clenched hard and all she was aware of was how powerful Luca’s muscles felt under her feet. He looked away then, to get something from the medical box, and the moment was broken. But it left Serena shaky.
His hands were big and capable. Masculine. But they were surprisingly gentle as he made sure the blisters were clean and then covered them with thick plasters.
He was pulling her socks back up over the dressings when he said, with an edge to his voice, ‘You’ve said a couple of times that you didn’t do drugs... You forget that I was there. I saw you.’
His blue gaze seemed to sear right through her and his question caught Serena somewhere very raw. For a moment she’d almost been feeling soft towards him, when he was the one who had marched her into the jungle like some kind of recalcitrant prisoner.
Anger and a sense of claustrophobia made her tense. He’d seen only the veneer of a car crash lifestyle which had hidden so much more.
She was bitter. ‘You saw what you wanted to see.’
Serena avoided his eyes and reached for her boots, but Luca got there first. He shook them out and said tersely, ‘You should always check to make sure nothing has crawled inside.’
Serena repressed a shudder at the thought of what that might be and stuck her feet back into the boots, but Luca didn’t move away.
‘What’s that supposed to mean? I saw what I wanted to see.’
Getting angry at his insistence, she glared at him. The firelight cast his face into shadow, making him seem even more dark and brooding.
He arched a brow. ‘I think I have a right to know—you owe me an explanation.’
Serena’s chest was tight with some unnamed emotion. The dark forest around them made her feel as if nothing existed outside of this place.
Hesitantly, she finally said, ‘I wasn’t addicted to Class A drugs...I’ve never taken a recreational drug in my life.’ She tried to block out the doubtful gleam in Luca’s eyes. ‘But I was addicted to prescription medication. And to alcohol. And I’ll never touch either again.’
Luca finally moved back and frowned. Serena felt as if she could breathe again. Until he asked, ‘How did you get addicted to medication?’
Serena’s insides curdled. This came far too close to that dark memory and all the residual guilt and fear that had been a part of her for so long. At best Luca was mildly curious; at worst he hated her. She had no desire to seek his sympathy, but a rogue part of her wanted to knock his assumptions about her a little.
‘I started taking prescribed medication when I was five.’
Luca’s frown deepened. ‘Why? You were a child.’
His clear scepticism made Serena curse herself for being so honest. This man would never understand if she was to tell him the worst of it all. So she feigned a lightness she didn’t feel and fell back on the script that her father had written for her so long ago that she couldn’t remember normal.
She gave a small shrug and avoided that laser-like gaze. ‘I was difficult. After my mother died I became hard to control. By the time I was twelve I had been diagnosed with ADHD and had been on medication for years. I became dependent on it—I liked how it made me feel.’
Luca sounded faintly disgusted. ‘And your father...he sanctioned this?’
Pain gripped Serena. He’d not only sanctioned it, he’d made sure of it. She shrugged again, feeling as brittle as glass, and smiled. But it was hard. She forced herself to look at Luca. ‘Like I said, I was hard to control. Wilful.’
Disdain oozed from Luca. ‘Why are you so certain you’re free of the addiction now?’
She tipped her chin up unconsciously. ‘When my sister and I left Italy, after my father...’ She stalled, familiar shame coursing through her blood along with anger. ‘When it all fell apart we went to England. I checked into a rehab facility just outside London. I was there for a year. Not that it’s any business of yours,’ she added, immediately regretting her impulse to divulge so much.
Luca’s expression was indecipherable as he stood up, and he pointed out grimly, ‘I think our personal history makes it my business. You need to prove to me you can be trusted—that you will not be a drain on resources and the energy of everyone around you.’
Boots on, Serena stood up in agitation, her jaw tight with hurt and anger. She held up a hand. ‘Whoa—judgemental, much? And you base this on your vast knowledge of ex-addicts?’
His narrow-minded view made Serena see red. She put her hands on her hips.
‘Well?’
Tension throbbed between them as they glared at each other for long seconds. And then Luca bit out, ‘I base it on an alcoholic mother who makes checking in and out of rehab facilities a recreational pastime. That’s how I have a unique insight into the addict’s mind. And when she’s not battling the booze or the pills she’s chasing her next rich conquest to fund her lifestyle.’
Serena felt sick for a moment at the derision in his voice. The evidence of just how personal his judgement was appeared entrenched in bitter experience.
Luca stepped back. ‘We should eat.’
Serena’s anger dissipated as she watched Luca turn away abruptly to light the camping stove near the fire. She reeled with this new knowledge of his own experience. And reeled at how much she’d told him of herself with such little prompting. She felt relieved now that she hadn’t spilled her guts entirely.
No wonder he’d come down on her like a ton of bricks and believed the worst. Still...it didn’t excuse him. And she told herself fiercely that she didn’t feel a tug of something treacherous at the thought of him coping with an alcoholic parent. After all, she still bore the guilt of her sister having to deal with her.
Suddenly, in light of that conversation, she felt too raw to sit in Luca’s company and risk that insightful mind being turned on her again. And fatigue was creeping over her like a relentless wave.
‘Don’t prepare anything for me. I’m not feeling hungry. I think I’ll turn in now.’
Luca looked up at her from over his shoulder. He seemed to bite back whatever he was going to say and shrugged. ‘Suit yourself.’
Serena grabbed her backpack and went into the tent, relieved to see that it was more spacious inside than she might have imagined. She could only do a basic toilette, and after taking off her boots and rolling out her sleeping bag carefully on one side of the tent she curled up and dived into the exhausted sleep of oblivion.
Anything to avoid thinking about the man who had comprehensively turned her world upside down in the last thirty-six hours and come far too close to where she still had so much locked