Ravensdale's Defiant Captive

His dark eyes moved over her face, centred on her mouth and then came back to her gaze. ‘Only if you’ll have one with me.’

Holly chewed the inside of her mouth. She didn’t trust herself around him. He was dangerous in this gentle and reflective mood. Keeping her game face on was easy when he was being sarcastic and cynical towards her. But this was different. ‘It’s a bit late at night for me to drink coffee, and since I don’t drink alcohol I’d be pretty boring company...’

His mouth twisted ruefully. ‘I suppose I deserve that brush off, don’t I?’

‘I’m not brushing you off. If I were brushing you off then you’d know about it, let me tell you,’ she said. ‘I’m not the sort of person to hand out a parachute for anyone’s ego.’

He gave a soft laugh, the low, deep sound doing something odd and ticklish to the base of Holly’s spine. ‘That I can believe.’

There was another beat of silence.

‘What would you do if you found out you had a half-sibling?’ he asked.

Holly shifted her lips from side to side as she thought about it. ‘I would definitely want to meet him or her. I’ve always wanted a sister or brother. It would’ve come in handy to have someone to stick up for me.’

He studied her for a long moment. The low light didn’t take anything away from his handsome features. If anything, it highlighted them. The aristocratic landscape of his face reminded her of a hero out of a nineteenth-century novel. Dark and brooding; aloof and unknowable.

‘Things were pretty tough for you as a kid, weren’t they?’

Holly moved her gaze out of reach of his. ‘I don’t like talking about it.’

‘Talking sometimes helps people to understand you a little better.’

‘Yeah, well, if people don’t like me at “hello” then how is telling them all about my messed-up childhood going to change their opinion?’

‘Perhaps if you worked on your first impressions you might win a few friends on your side.’

Holly thought of how she’d stomped into his office that morning—had it really only been a day?—with her verbal artillery blazing. She’d put him on the back foot at the outset. But she’d been angry and churned up over everything. Her forthrightness had been automatic. She liked to get in first before people took advantage. ‘I could’ve come in and been polite as anything but you’d already made up your mind about me. You’d heard about my criminal behaviour. Nothing I could’ve said or done would’ve changed your opinion.’

Julius took a step that brought him close to where she was standing. Holly held her breath as he sent a fingertip down the length of her arm, from the top of her shoulder to her wrist. The nerves fluttered like moths beneath her skin. Her heart skipped a beat. Her stomach tilted. ‘Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?’ His voice was low, a deep burr of sound that made the base of her spine fizz.

‘I’m sure.’

He sent the same fingertip down the curve of her cheek, outlining her face from just behind her ear to the base of her chin. ‘I think underneath that brash exterior is a very frightened little girl.’

Holly quickly disguised a knotty swallow. ‘Keep your day job, Julius. You’d make a rubbish therapist.’

His eyes held hers for another long moment. ‘I’ll see to the rest of the windows,’ he said. ‘You go on up to bed. Sleep well.’

Like that’s going to happen, Holly thought as she turned and slipped out of the room.

* * *

Holly didn’t see Julius for over a week. He hadn’t informed her he was leaving at all. She heard it from Sophia, who told her he was working on some important software and had to attend meetings in Buenos Aires, as well as flying to Santiago in Chile. It annoyed Holly he hadn’t bothered to tell her what his schedule was. He could have done so that night in the library, especially as she’d heard him leave the very next morning. But then, she reminded herself, she was just a temporary hindrance for him. The more time away from the villa—away from her—the better. The bruises on her arms had faded but the bruise to her ego had not. Why couldn’t he have talked to her in person? Told her his plans?

The fact was, it was dead boring without him. Sophia was kind and sweet and did her best to make sure Holly had plenty to do without exploiting her. But spending hours with a middle-aged woman who reminded her too much of the mother she no longer had was not Holly’s idea of fun. The more time she spent with the gentle and kind housekeeper, the more she ached for what she had lost. Sophia had a tendency to mother her, to treat her like a surrogate daughter. Holly appreciated the gesture on one level but on another it made her feel unutterably sad.