Pausing in the middle of the bridge, Leila leaned back against the worn balustrade with her arms resting on the warm, smooth wood. ‘Your grandmother said she was surprised that you could take my pregnancy so calmly. She said there were things it wasn’t possible to discuss over tea. She reassured me that there were no genetic problems in your family to worry about, so I wondered—’
‘My grandmother said too much.’
He hadn’t meant to snap. Or turn his back. Or lean over the bridge lost in his thought, but the guilt he had lived with for so long was curdling inside him. He had to take several deep breaths before he could control the emotion. Feelings that had been buried for so long had a way of running wild. They had threatened to ruin him as a youth, but he had mastered them as an adult, and control ruled him now. Leila must think him distant and aloof from her, but she was wrong. He was intensely focused on the only thing that mattered to him now, which was Leila’s safety when she gave birth to their child.
‘Raffa?’
‘What?’
‘Have I said something to upset you? I didn’t mean to be intrusive or to probe into your past.’
‘I know.’ He still didn’t turn around. It would have been easier for both of them if he had kept Leila at a distance, stopped her coming to the island, but his head had been full of her, and he doubted now that any amount of work or distraction could shake her out. He couldn’t have known she was carrying his baby, or how that would make him feel. He could never have anticipated the old ghosts from the past coming back to taunt him with the guilt he’d lived with all his life.
Following Raffa’s gaze down the busy stream as it rushed and bubbled on its way to the sea, she could feel the barricades rising around him. Raffa’s self-imposed isolation was a shield to keep her and the world at bay, and whatever had made Raffa withdraw into himself, it was something he had kept hidden for years, so he was hardly going to blurt it out now. But her impulse was to reassure him, and there was nothing to stop her doing that.
‘Your grandmother cares very much about you, Raffa. She didn’t break any confidences. She wouldn’t tell me anything.’
Straightening up, he turned to face her, and his expression had not mellowed as she’d hoped. ‘Is that what this walk is about?’ There was suspicion in his voice, even hostility. ‘Do you expect me to reveal all now?’
‘No,’ she said, holding Raffa’s burning gaze steadily. ‘Of course I don’t. I just wanted you to know you’re not alone.’
‘It’s you we’re supposed to be sorting out, Leila.’
‘I don’t need sorting out. And you shouldn’t be so proud that you can’t admit that you do.’
‘What?’ he said softly.
‘I’m sorry, but someone has to tell you. Your grandmother is one of the strongest women I’ve ever met, but she loves you so much she has spent her whole life tiptoeing around you, and whatever it is that makes you feel so guilty. And I won’t do that.’
Drawing back his head, Raffa stared down at her in disbelief.
Even now, even with Raffa glowering down at her, her only wish was to reach out to him and hold him until the ghosts had no strength left. He was a pent-up powerhouse of outraged affront, which increased the force of his physical appeal tenfold. She felt it as a primitive and very earthy response to him, and Raffa felt it too. Just the smallest change in those hostile dark eyes told her exactly how Raffa Leon would like to resolve this situation. Perhaps the combined force of their passion would be enough to banish all their ghosts in one fell swoop, she reflected wryly.