Had she used him?
God knew he had little reason to trust Freya Clark. He’d felt she was hiding something from the start—sensed that calm composure was covering some purpose or plan—but seduction? Did she really think a single night of rushed pleasure would change his mind? And yet in that moment of shocking intimacy he’d felt closer to Freya Clark than he had to another human being in a long, long time. She could not have expected him to respond that way, to have known how much he longed for it.
And yet it had happened. Freya had approached him, had not turned away from his kiss despite his every expectation that she would. Rafe’s mouth twisted in disgust at both her and himself even as he fought against the urge to condemn her without true proof. He did not want to be unjust, yet he’d faced so much injustice himself.#p#分页标题#e#
And even if she had been using him, he could not send her away so suddenly. Max would be devastated. He thought of Max’s blankly terrified face, the endless screams. Max needed Freya—for several more weeks, at least. They were stuck together, at least for a little while, no matter what her intentions had been. He didn’t trust her. And he still had every intention of sending her away as soon as possible.
Freya walked from the living room as if she were made of glass. She felt as if she could shatter at any moment. She walked with her arms wrapped around herself, as if she could keep herself together by sheer physical force.
How could she have allowed herself to be so weak, tempted by desire yet again? How could ten years of distance and decorum, of carefully building a fortress around her body and heart, count for nothing? She felt as defenceless as a razed tower, her body and heart raw and vulnerable, open and exposed to the elements. To Rafe.
She thought of how he’d left the room, stalking from it as if he were angry, probably disgusted. By what they had done. By her. Had he sensed that weakness inside her? Had he known she would respond to his kiss, unable to keep desire from swamping her senses, obliterating all reason?
Freya went to the bathroom and, mindless of the late hour, ran a steaming bath. She needed to wash away the memory of what had just happened even if she couldn’t erase the regret. She would, Freya knew from experience, live with that for ever.
Even after a bath, sleep wouldn’t come. She kept reliving those urgent moments with Rafe—the feel of his lips on her skin, his body inside her, the fierce sense of both joy and regret, pleasure and pain. She had not been close, much less had sex, with anyone for ten years. Since Timeo. And it stunned and scared her that Rafe Sandoval had been the one to crumble her defences. She turned her head towards her pillow, closing her eyes tightly, willing the memories and regrets to recede.
She must have slept, although she did not remember doing so, for she opened her eyes several hours later to see Max standing very close to her face, peering owlishly at her. Freya blinked and tried to smile, although every muscle in her body ached.
‘Hello, there, sleepyhead.’
Max grinned. ‘You’re the sleepyhead.’
‘So I am.’ She touched his cheek, as soft and round as a peach, savouring the moment. Then the memories of last night rushed in, obliterating anything else, crashing over her so her throat closed up and her eyes stung. She withdrew her hand. ‘Let me just get dressed, Max, and we’ll go and see about breakfast.’
A few minutes later, with Max’s hand slipped through her own, Freya cautiously headed out into the apartment. Rafe was nowhere to be seen, and she felt a dizzying wave of relief. She wasn’t ready to see him yet; she didn’t know if she ever would be.
A housekeeper was busy in the kitchen, setting out bowls of fruit and slices of warm bread with pots of butter and jam, and she smiled at both Freya and Max as they entered. Freya made introductions, and they sat down at a table in the alcove and set to eating.
‘How long are we going to stay here?’ Max asked as he popped a strawberry in his mouth, juice running down his chin.
‘I’m not sure, Max. I think we’ll see Rafe’s house in the country soon. Wouldn’t you like that? To visit the mountains?’
Max frowned, and Freya knew she hadn’t fooled him. Despite her cheerful, brisk attitude, he sensed that something wasn’t right about this whole scenario.
‘I want to go swimming,’ he finally said, and Freya knew he was remembering Rafe mentioning that he had a pool.
‘And you will. It’s warmer in Spain, you know. You can go swimming outside even this time of year.’#p#分页标题#e#
Max brightened at this, and turned back to his fruit. Freya felt another wave of relief. She wasn’t ready to offer Max explanations she couldn’t even give. Thank goodness children were resilient.