Bound by the Italian's Contract(48)

                “Good, you see it, too,” he said, and she nodded. “I didn’t realize how very much I needed a retreat until the accident.”

                She certainly understood the desperate need to escape a horrible incident. Her refuge had been her lodge and a redirection of her life. Taking control again, if only in baby steps.

                In time, the personal attack she’d suffered receded to the back of her mind. It was rarely recalled, yet the pain and shame were never forgotten.

                No, she didn’t have to ask how much his loss and his terrible accident pained him emotionally and physically. One look at his drawn features proved he suffered deeply on both levels.

                “I wish I would have been able to help you then,” she said, hesitating before laying her hand atop his.

                But on what level could she have helped? Emotionally? Maybe. Physically? Not likely considering what she’d endured.

                She would like to think she could have put her own feelings aside, but in all honesty she wasn’t sure. It had taken her years to recover to this stage. And besides, the point was moot as that was the time she’d delved deeper into her studies, putting her degree first in her life and taking that vow to go it alone.

                He brushed off her hand and stormed to the window. “I couldn’t think beyond my own need to be alone. Secluded.” He shook his head. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

                “But I do,” she said, batting at the unwelcome tears stinging her eyes, debating if she should tell him what had happened that night he’d left her.

                Why? What good would it serve? None.

                “I have lived with shame and fear and the desperate need to escape the world my mother adored,” she said instead.

                He hung his head, jaw clenched. “I didn’t know that pained you so much, but then I was too wrapped up in my own problems and needs. What else can I say to convince you that I am truly sorry for my past behavior?”

                “Nothing. Explanations aren’t necessary.” For either of them. She shook her head, shelving that dark past where it belonged. “Did you hire me because you regretted how you treated me in the past?”

                “No. I told you it was because you are the best at what you do and I meant it. The past had nothing to do with it.” He grasped her hand and she could have sworn she saw sparks fly from the contact. God knew she felt the burn to the depths of her soul. “What can I do to ease your mind, Caprice? Tell me.”

                “You’re doing it.” She forced a smile, grateful she could still feel the trembles deep inside her.

                “Good.” He rubbed his hands together and smiled, a far more relaxed expression than she thought him capable of. “Am I right then? Do you like this and feel it is the perfect design for the adaptive program?”

                She turned in a slow circle, absorbing the pulse of this amazing space, liking it. No, she loved it. Felt the energy flowing here. “You’re right. It’s amazing—this design makes me feel strong and capable of doing anything.”

                “It is the inspiration I covet.” He took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’m loath to share it, but because it will benefit others, I give it to you.”

                For a long moment she studied his solemn expression, judging if he was sincere. If relinquishing his private design somehow took the beauty and serenity from him.