He went to the balcony doors and unlocked them. Holly stiffened. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I want some fresh air.’
Bitterness burned in her gullet. ‘You’re only doing that to get rid of me. It’s cruel, Julius. You know how much it freaks me out. I thought you understood. I’ll only come in here if those doors are closed.’
‘It’s just a balcony, for God’s sake.’
Tears sprouted but Holly tried to blink them back. ‘It’s not just a bloody balcony!’ She got off the bed, pulling the sheet with her to cover herself. ‘I spent hours and hours—years—of my life frightened out of my wits, and now you’re using that fear, exploiting that fear, to push me away because you’re scared of how you feel about me leaving.’
He flung the doors wide open and stepped out on to the balcony, standing with his back to her as he looked out over the estate.
Holly felt a gnarled knot of emotion clog her throat. Her heart was beating too fast, too erratically. Her skin was icy-cold and then clammy-hot. Her vision blurred with tears. She tried to get away but the sheet wrapped around her halted her progress. She tripped, stumbled and then fell in an ungainly heap on the floor.
‘Are you all right?’ Julius was by her side in seconds.
Holly batted his hand away. ‘No, of course I’m not all right. Close the freaking doors, will you?’
He gripped her chin between his finger and thumb. ‘You’re fine, Holly. Look at me. You’re fine. No one’s going to hurt you.’
She glared at him. ‘You hurt me. You did. You shouldn’t have done that.’ Tears leaked out of her eyes in spite of all she did to try and stop them. She landed a punch on his arm but it glanced off as if she had hit stone. ‘You sh-shouldn’t have done that.’
‘Hey...hey...hey...’ He drew her against him, resting his chin on top of her head as he gently stroked her back in soothing circles. ‘It’s all right, querida. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry. Shh, don’t cry.’
‘I’m not c-crying.’
‘Of course you’re not.’ He kept stroking her, holding her.
‘I’m angry, that’s all.’
‘Of course you are. You have every right to be. I was being a jerk.’
‘If you want me to leave the room or get out of your life just say so, okay?’ she said against his chest. ‘I can take a hint. I’m not stupid.’
There was a deep silence.
Holly listened to the sound of his breathing. Felt the steady rise and fall of his chest against her cheek and the slow beat of his heart. Felt his hand gently stroking her hair, his chin resting on top of her head. Felt her heart squeeze at the thought of how soon this was going to end.
Before she knew it, she would be on her way to a new life in England. The only contact she would have with him would be seeing articles about his family in the press. She wasn’t falling in love with him. She wasn’t. It was just that he was so...so different from all the men she had met in the past. He was impossibly strong, yet tender when he needed to be. He was a control freak but that showed he had discipline and self-control. He was a man with honour and standards. No one had ever taken the time to get to know her like he had done. He was interested in what made her the person she was and he inspired her to become who she was meant to be.
How could she not feel a little regret over her imminent departure? It was normal. It didn’t mean she was falling in love with him. She had never been in love before and didn’t intend to be now. She had seen first-hand the damage loving someone could do. You lost your power, your autonomy, your self-respect and your freedom. Love was a trap. A cage that, once you were in, you couldn’t get out of. That wasn’t what she had planned for her life.
Julius eased back to look down at her. ‘I want you to do something for me.’
‘What?’
He took her by the hands in a gentle hold. ‘I want you to come out on the balcony with me.’
Holly tried to pull away but his grip tightened. ‘No. No. Don’t ask me to do that. I won’t. I can’t.’
He kept her imprisoned hands close to his chest. ‘I’ll be with you the whole time. I won’t let go of you. Trust me, Holly.’
She felt the panic rise in her chest. Felt the bookcase flatten her lungs until she could barely inflate them enough to breathe. Could she do it? Could she trust him to stand by her and hold her, to help her confront her worst nightmare? Her skin crawled with dread. Her heart raced. Her stomach churned. ‘I—I’m not sure I can do it... My stepfather used to drag me out there by the hair. He would lock me out there and then beat up my mum while I watched. Don’t make me do it. I c-can’t.’