She didn’t really like thinking of her brother in those terms, but he was the only man she really knew. She had no reason to believe that Mak wasn’t the same. Yes, he’d been married, but he was single, and likely had been for a while. Which meant he was probably back to being free and easy with the way he satisfied his body’s needs.
And he was also back to that implacable, emotionless calm of his. She’d successfully gotten a growl out of him, but that was about it. He was all hard steel. Immovable. Unshakable. Uncompromising.
“Is dinner to your liking?” he asked.
A bland, ridiculous question all things considered. Did he really feel nothing? Her entire body felt singed and he was just … fine.
How annoying.
“Perfect. Good enough for a tiger to eat, maybe.”
He chuckled, low and emotionless, but sexy all the same. “Maybe.”
“What is it you do for fun around here? Make snow angels?” she asked, looking up at the high ceiling.
“Not quite. There’s a good ski resort nearby, and the village is nice. But I mainly come here to be alone, as I said. To get away from demands.”
“Of your work.”
He paused for a moment, a flicker of emotion in his eyes. Just for a moment. “Among other things. But mainly work now. Not that I ever truly leave my work behind. It’s far too important.”
“But you don’t generally go out in the field now.”
“I haven’t been an operative for a long time. I organize, I make connections and head up training. Things have expanded and we now do security on nearly every level you can think of.”
“That’s … daunting.”
“It’s how I’ve made my fortune. Certainly more gratifying than working just as hard for pennies. For just enough to buy food for my family for a couple of days.”
Her throat tightened. It was easy to see Mak as super-human. As someone so far beyond her, in life experience, in so many things, that she could forget he’d had struggles. That he’d been through things that were more difficult to bear than anything she’d ever had to endure.
“Did your … couldn’t your father work?”
“He did. And we waited in line for food, for the same nothing everyone else got. I did what I could on the side. Hid that bit of extra. There were a lot of mouths to feed. I’m one of five children.”
“Do you … do you ever see them now?”
“The ones I could find. I lost touch with them for so long … and I’m not the only one. They all sort of drifted apart.”
“How did you lose each other?”
“A number of reasons, I should think. Mostly the pursuit of a better life, which took us all far from where we came from. Though I’m not sure of the specifics for everything.” He paused. “I know how I lost track of them, but it’s a long story.”
“I have time,” she said.
“You’re trying to hold hands and share again.”
She shrugged. “It won’t kill you.”
“All right. I got married young. I left home.”
“And?”
“And that’s all,” he burst out. “Marina’s parents didn’t approve, and that meant leaving as soon as we possibly could to avoid her father coming to kill me. Or if not kill, seriously harm or perhaps have me sent to jail for kidnapping or whatever else he might be able to think of. I had gotten work out of the country anyway, which was for the best, for both of us. It was a dream of hers to live in Paris.” He pushed out a heavy breath “We were going to live in Paris.”
“And?” she pressed.
“And story time is over. You seem like the sort of girl who likes happy endings. This one ends badly.” He stood. “Are you finished?”
“What?” She looked down at her half-eaten soup. “Yes.”
He picked up her bowl and his and headed into the kitchen.
She watched him go, her mind turning his words over. His wife had died, of course it had ended badly.
But she wished she knew more. Wished she knew what had happened to make him who he was. Wished she could imagine that he’d been happy, just for a while. She hoped he had been. That he’d had a few years of joy with someone he loved.