After grabbing a rag from the nearby work table, he wiped his hands, then whipped out a scowl. “What is this awkwardness you speak of?”
For a moment, Kira couldn’t remember what she had said when she’d come upon him looking like one hundred percent prime male. Fortunately, she recovered quickly when she recalled her tense conversation with his ex-girlfriend. “I don’t appreciate you sending me into the lion’s den with the lioness.”
“Please explain.”
Oh, she would. Gladly. “You should have informed me that you and Athena were lovers.”
He tossed the rag aside and put on a somber expression. “She informed you of this?”
“Yes, because she assumes I’m her replacement.”
He went back to cutting another stone. “And you said?”
“She was mistaken. She also warned me that you are the consummate heartbreaker.”
That earned her another frown. “I prefer not to discuss this here.”
Maybe not here. Maybe not now. But they would discuss it tonight.
Kira brought her attention to the intricacy of the wall and realized Tarek had talents she hadn’t known about until then. In reality, she still knew very little about him from a personal standpoint, even if she did know what he looked like naked.
“Where did you learn to do this?”
He placed another tile—this one rust-colored—into the pattern. “I was schooled by the man who raised me.”
“You mean your father?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you say that?”
He glanced at her over one shoulder. “He is the man who raised me, is he not?”
“Yes, but...” No need to argue a point she wouldn’t win. “Was this a hobby, or did he make a living as a stone mason?”
“A meager living,” he said as he faced her again. “His craft sent him to an early grave.”
She could imagine the poor man being trapped under a stone wall. “Did he suffer a work-related injury?”
“He suffered from a weak heart that claimed him before his fiftieth birthday, as it was with his own father.”
Kira’s palm automatically went to her belly, an unexpected maternal gesture. “That probably causes you quite a bit of concern in regard to your own health.”
“It does not.”
In her opinion, he should be worried, yet Tarek would forever be a tough guy in her eyes. When it came to their child, she couldn’t help but be troubled by genetic predisposition to disease. “What happened to your mother?”
His expression turned somber, as if he had been plagued by sudden and unwelcome memories. “She contracted pneumonia the year I turned ten and never recovered. She suffered from a weak will.”
Kira swallowed around her shock. “That’s a crass thing to say about the woman who gave birth to you.”
“It is the truth, according to her husband. I barely remember her beyond a few select memories.”
Odd that he couldn’t seem to say “father.” A very telling omission, and perhaps the reason behind his inability to commit. Maybe his father cheated on his mother. Maybe the man had been cold and distant. She could only hope that someday she would find out.
“I’m sure it’s difficult to get past the grief over losing both parents so soon in life. I don’t know what I would do without mine.”
Tarek swept the back of one arm over his forehead now beaded with perspiration. “I am glad you enjoyed a stable childhood. Now if you will excuse me, I will finish here and see you at the villa later.”
Talk about being dismissed in short order. She refused to let him get away with it the next time they conversed. “Fine. Hopefully you’ll be back by lunchtime.”
Five
The sun had long since set before Tarek returned home. The troubling conversation with Kira had prompted him to remain longer in an effort to discard the bitter memories. In an effort to avoid her questions.
He had loved his mother greatly and had mourned her loss as any other devoted son would. He had respected her without fail...until he had learned of her deception and indiscretions. Since gaining that knowledge, he had concentrated on rising above his upbringing, and avoiding interpersonal relationships. He had built a financial empire that rivaled most. He had achieved this virtually alone.
Tonight, he would push those recollections away and concentrate on the one woman who could help him forget, if she would be willing to do that. To attain his goal, he would endeavor to answer her questions, at least those that he could answer. And perhaps he would ask a few questions of her.
After he entered the foyer, a person walking toward the end of the pool, cast in blue shadows, caught his attention. The curve of her hips and the grace of her movements left no question as to her gender. He had explored those curves before, and he wished to do so again. First, he must find out if she was still speaking to him.