It was then that he noticed the faint bruises on her left arm. He was striding to her and lifting her arm to examine the marks before his brain had connected with his body.
‘Who did this to you?’ he demanded.
Her surprised gaze snapped from his to her arm. Her flush deepened as she swiftly shook her head. ‘I…it doesn’t matter; it’s nothing—’
He swallowed hard. ‘Like hell it is.’ The idea that his demands on her might have caused this to happen to her made a thread of revulsion rise in his belly. He forced it down and concentrated on her face. ‘Tell me who it was.’
She swallowed. ‘My father.’
Pure fury blurred his vision for several seconds. ‘Your father did this to you?’
She gave a jerky nod.
Why the hell was he surprised? ‘Has he done anything like this before?’ he bit out.
She pressed her lips together in a vain attempt not to answer. A firm grip of her chin, tilting it to his gaze, convinced her otherwise. ‘Once. Maybe twice.’
His vicious curse made her shiver. Theo examined the marks, which would grow yellowish by nightfall, and pushed down the mounting fury. ‘That son of a bitch will never touch you again.’
Shock made her gasp. ‘That son of a bitch is my father. And I’ve given you what you wanted, so I expect you to hold up your end of the bargain.’
He frowned with genuine puzzlement. ‘Why do you tolerate this, Inez?’ He glanced from the bruises to her face. ‘You’re more than old enough to live on your own. Hell, if money and a rich lifestyle are what you crave, you’re sufficiently resourceful to find some wealthy guy who would—’
She snatched her arm from his grasp. It was then that he realised he’d been caressing her soft skin with his thumb. He missed the connection almost immediately.
‘I certainly hope you’re not about to suggest what I think you are?’
Keen frustration rocked him into movement. ‘I’m curious, that’s all.’
‘I’m not here to satisfy your curiosity. And perhaps you’ve been lucky enough to be granted a perfect family but not everyone has been afforded the same luxury. We made do with what we… Did I say something funny?’ she snapped.
He cut off the mirthless laughter that had bubbled up at her words. ‘Yes. You’re damned hilarious. You obviously don’t know what you’re talking about.’
She stared at him with confusion and a little trepidation. ‘No. But how can I? We only met two nights ago. And now I’m here, your possession for the foreseeable future.’
The simple statement twisted like live electricity between them. The look in her eyes said she was daring him to react to it. But the off-kilter emotions swirling through his chest made him back away from it. He shouldn’t have dealt with her so soon after speaking to Benedicto. He should’ve left Teresa, his housekeeper, to see to her needs.
He turned and headed for the door. ‘I’ll show you upstairs. And then I need to go.’
Striding into the hallway, he started up the grand central stairs that led to the upper two floors of his house. After a few steps, he noticed she wasn’t behind him.
Turning, he found her paused on the second step, her gaze once again wide and wondrous as she stared around her.
‘What?’
‘There are no concrete walls.’ She looked up at the all-encompassing glass around her. ‘Or ceilings.’
He resumed climbing the stairs. ‘I don’t like walls. And I don’t like ceilings,’ he threw over his shoulder.
She hurried after him and caught up with him as they neared the first suite of rooms. She regarded him for a few seconds then bit her lip.
He paused with a hand on the doorknob. ‘What?’ he asked again, trying and not succeeding in prising his gaze from her plump lips.
‘I’m not sure whether to take that as a metaphor or not.’
‘Anjo, there’s no hidden meaning behind my words. I literally do not like concrete walls or ceilings.’
She frowned in puzzlement. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘It’s very simple. I don’t like being closed in.’
‘You’re…claustrophobic?’ She whispered the word as if she wasn’t sure how to apply it to him.