Burn My Hart (The Notorious Harts 2)

I swallow, watching as he places another batch on the grill then turns the full force of his attention on me. He’s lifted one arm and laid it along the back of the booth so I’m in the circle of his body, surrounded by his strength and warmth, and I like it here. I really like it.

‘So you were saying how you feel like you never really belonged?’ he prompts and I shake my head.

‘I don’t think I was saying that at all.’

‘Or words to that effect.’

I reach for another piece of beef, tasting it while I contemplate what I had been going to say. ‘My dad never wanted me.’

He frowns so a divot forms between his brows.

‘Oh, it’s fine. I’m not upset about it, not like I used to be. It’s nothing to do with me; it’s just what he had planned. He and Mom knew they needed a child, an heir—he takes the whole family empire thing pretty seriously. Joshua ticked that box. My dad was done and dusted, no need for any more noisy, crying infants to destroy his peace and tranquillity.’ I don’t meet his eyes.

‘But they changed their mind?’

‘I was an accident,’ I demur quietly. ‘I’ve always wondered if maybe my mom planned it, maybe she lied to my dad to fall pregnant? I mean, maybe she chose to have me?’

‘Would that have made a difference to you?’

I bite down on my lip. ‘Yeah, probably.’ Crap, my voice sounds shaky. I clear my throat. ‘But, whatever, dad definitely didn’t want another child, and he definitely didn’t want a daughter.’

I feel Theo tense. ‘Why not?’

‘It’s not like he’s a misogynist. This isn’t a boy versus girl thing. He didn’t know what the hell to do with a daughter, and without Mom he felt like he was flying blind. I was—am—so different to Josh, and Dad just had no clue how to deal with that. I was like a bizarre alien or something.’

He doesn’t smile, but he stares at me with an intensity that makes my skin lift in goosebumps.

‘I have no experience with kids but I imagine we’re all pretty much the same.’

‘In lots of ways,’ I murmur. ‘But I was sensitive and emotional. Dad couldn’t deal. Joshua has always been contained and calm, reasonable and rational. I used to fly into a rage if I didn’t get my way, slam doors, stomp my feet, cry loudly, laugh until my stomach ached. I felt everything to the nth degree and it took a long time for me to learn that wasn’t...okay in my family.’

His frown deepens. I dip my head forward, burying it in his shoulder.

‘You’re nothing like that now.’

I think about that. ‘I probably still am, deep, deep down. But conditioning is powerful and my whole life was spent conditioning me not to act like that.’

‘Self-possessed is a word I would use to describe you.’

‘Sure.’ I lift my shoulders. ‘I’ve definitely learned to be that way.’

His expression shows disapproval. ‘So you were made to feel as though all your natural instincts were somehow wrong?’

Yes. A thousand times yes. But I hate admitting that to anyone. I feel disloyal and unkind. ‘It’s hard to distil it down to such a simple statement. My dad was grieving my mother. Her death changed him.’

‘I imagine it was hard for your brother to lose her too, and for you to have grown up with no mother.’

I run a finger over my collarbone distractedly. ‘Joshua missed her, though he didn’t like to speak about that. As for Dad...’ I shake my head. ‘Grief is a difficult emotion.’

‘You’re making excuses for him?’

‘No, but I’m conscious that I’m making it sound like my dad was some kind of a monster and that’s not the case. He’s fine. He’s great. But he struggled with me, which meant I struggled with him. I suppose you could say that when my mother died we lost a huge part of my father too. I don’t think we’ll ever get him back.’ I lift my face to his. Our lips are so close. I feel his breath on the side of my face and my insides squeeze in the nicest possible way. It’s like a web has been spun with us at its centre.

‘He must be proud of you, though?’

I lift a single brow, a twisted smile briefly lifting my lips. ‘I don’t think pride is necessarily in his arsenal.’

‘He’s proud of Joshua?’