Because You Are Mine (Because You Are Mine #1)(80)
“Your father,” she whispered, noticing the gleam in his blue eyes. Was that a warning glint, a silent message for her to tread carefully? She continued despite the potential risk. “Do you know who he is?”
He shook his head. She definitely felt the tension in his muscles now, but he stayed put in the bed. She decided to take courage that he didn’t excuse himself and walk away, as she suspected he might have before tonight.
“Were you curious about who he is? Are you?”
“Only insofar as I’d like the knowledge in order to kill the bloody bastard.”
Her mouth fell open in shock. She hadn’t expected his focused, intense aggression. “Why?”
He closed his eyes briefly, and she wondered if she’d gone too far. Would he retreat now?
“Whoever he was, he must have taken advantage of my mother. I don’t know if that means out-and-out rape or the seduction of a very vulnerable, sick woman, but whatever the case, I definitely carry the genes of a f*cking degenerate.”
“Oh, Ian,” she whispered, her heart swelling with compassion. What a nightmare for a young boy to live with. What a nightmare for an adult man. “And you never saw him, he never came around?”
He shook his head, his eyelids still closed.
“And your mother, she never—”
He opened his eyes and met her stare. “She grew anxious every time I brought it up as a kid, started doing some of her repetitive, ritualistic behaviors. After a while, I avoided the topic of my father’s identity like the plague. But inside, I grew to hate him. He’d done that to her, made her that scared and nervous. Somehow I just knew it.”
“But she already was ill . . . schizophrenic . . .”
“Yes, but there was something about the mention of him that never failed to send her into a bad period . . . a dark one.”
She couldn’t stand that expression on his face. It pierced her from the inside out. She hugged him tight. “Ian, I’m so sorry.”
He grunted at her energetic embrace, and then chuckled softly. He resumed stroking her hair. “Do you think squeezing me like a python is going to make it all better, lovely?”
“No,” she muttered, her mouth moving next to his bare chest. “But it couldn’t hurt.”
He encircled her in his arms and laid her on her back, coming down over her. “That it couldn’t,” he murmured, before he leaned down and kissed her in that masterful Ian-like way that made her forget everything for a period of time . . . even his suffering.
* * *
Francesca knew she’d remember that night spent in Ian’s arms, and in his bed, forever. It’d been sublime to have him open up to her . . . even a little. In the past, he’d told her that their relationship would be a purely sexual one, and there could be little doubt that their attraction—their obsession—with each other sexually was powerful stuff.
But that night, their exchange had been more than about sex. Or so Francesca had thought . . .
She woke up to brilliant golden sunlight filtering around the lush drapery. She blinked sleepily, noticing she was alone in the luxurious mussed bed where she’d spent so many erotic, intimate hours with Ian last night.
“Ian?” she called, her voice still rough from sleep.
He came walking out of the bathroom, looking amazing in a pair of dark blue trousers, a stark white button-down shirt, a black silk tie with pale blue stripes, and that belt buckle that always distracted her so much riding low on his lean hips. Had she really seen him completely naked last night, truly seen his awesome reflection in those mirrors, all of those lean, bulging muscles flexed tight as he f*cked her?
Had it been a dream, having him hold and make love to her all night?
“Good morning,” he said, walking toward the bed and fastening a cuff link with deft fingers.
“Good morning,” she said groggily, smiling up at him, feeling content in the warm sunshine, sublime at the sight of him.
“I’m afraid I have to leave town for a while. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”
Her giddy grin faded. His words echoed around her skull like a ricocheting gunshot.
“I’ve spoken to Jacob, and he’s going to give you a lesson on motorcycles. I’d like you to get that license at the same time he takes you to get your vehicle license. Lin is sending you the “Rules of the Road” for motorcycles. I’m leaving you my tablet to use for studying,” he said, pointing to the table in the sitting area of his bedroom suite. His brisk no-nonsense manner only furthered her stunned disbelief.
“Excuse me, Ian? I’m still sort of stuck on ‘I’m leaving town, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back,’” she said, sitting up partially in bed, propping her upper body on her elbow.
“I received a call this morning.” Was he avoiding her eyes? “I have an emergency to attend to.”
“Ian, don’t.”
He paused at her sharp tone, his hand still at his shirt cuff. His eyes flashed.
“Don’t what?” he asked.
“Don’t leave,” burst out of her throat.
For an anxious, awful moment, silence reigned.
“I know you probably feel vulnerable about last night, but don’t run away,” she pleaded, a little shocked at herself. Had she secretly feared this very thing all night as they talked and made love and truly shared of themselves? Had she been worried all along he would abandon her in the aftermath of intimacy?