When Da Silva Breaks the Rules (Blood Brothers 3)

Lexie glanced up at Cesar and then away again quickly. He was so...implacable. Determined. Stern. The numb shell that had surrounded her for the past two days was finally breaking apart.

When Cesar had burst onto the set and she’d seen him... He would never know the depth of the gratitude she’d felt. Because on some level she’d always needed to know that someone might have saved her.

She forced herself to look at him. ‘Why did you do that?’

Cesar paced back and forth now, energy sparking off his tall, lean body. His mouth was tight. ‘I don’t know, to be honest. But when I saw you...I could tell something was wrong.’ He shook his head, stopped pacing. ‘You weren’t acting, Lexie.’

Something huge inside her shifted to know that he’d intuited something was wrong. ‘No, I wasn’t acting...not by the end.’

Cesar pulled a chair over to sit in front of her. Lexie gazed at him. Remembered how good it had felt when he’d swept her up into his arms. Too good. As if she’d been running for a long time and someone had finally allowed her to stop and rest.

She found that she wanted to tell him. She wanted to explain about the other night.

‘Lexie...what?’

She took a breath and then said starkly, ‘I was raped when I was fourteen.’

Cesar went white in an instant. His whole body tensed. ‘What did you say?’ His voice was hoarse.

Lexie bit her lip. She couldn’t go back now.

‘I was raped by my aunt’s husband. One night my parents and my aunt had gone out—he said he’d babysit. He brought me into my parents’ room when the others were in bed and raped me.’

‘The others...?’

‘My five younger brothers and sisters.’

‘Dios mio... Lexie...that animal...’ Cesar looked sick. ‘You looked at me the other night like I was going to hurt you—you were scared...’

Lexie leant forward and touched his arm. ‘No...’

B

ut Cesar was almost recoiling now, and she could see the horror on his face that she might have thought for a second he was capable of something so heinous.

She shook her head, ‘No, Cesar. I wasn’t afraid of you. I knew this scene was coming up... I was apprehensive about it... It’s the first time I’ve ever had to do a scene like this and it was just too close to the bone.’

Cesar pulled free of her touch and stood up, pacing again. Lexie was tense, her hands forming fists in her lap.

He faced her, eyes flinty green. ‘My God,’ he said again—in English this time.

Suddenly a kind of hurt bloomed inside her. He was looking at her as if she was a stranger. A damaged stranger. The guilt that she had worked long and hard to believe wasn’t hers reared its ugly head again. Her rapist’s accusations were as clear today as they had been then. ‘You were asking for it, you know. Always prancing around under my nose dressed in that uniform.’

She felt cold and said tightly, ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you.’

She stood up from the couch, hating that she’d been weak enough to confide in Cesar. Hating that she’d thought his intuition made her feel as if he deserved to know.

‘Where are you going?’

She looked at him. ‘Back to my room.’

She turned and headed for the bedroom, but Cesar caught her hand. This time when she looked at him his eyes were blazing. ‘Dammit, Lexie, you’re staying here.’

Hot tears pricked the back of her eyes, galling her. She hadn’t even cried after she’d been raped—too shocked and traumatised—and yet with one touch, one look, this man could reduce her to tears and make her want to lean on him when she’d fended for herself for so long now...

‘Damn you, Cesar.’ She pulled her hand free and faced him. ‘Just let me go.’

He shook his head. ‘You shouldn’t be alone right now.’