Kiss an Angel(76)

He mounted the stairs. “You’re a romantic, Daisy. It’s not that I think I’m so irresistible—God knows, I don’t—but over the years it’s been my observation that the minute any man puts a red flag in front of a woman, she changes it in her mind to a green one.”

“Pooh.”

They reached the top. He leaned his hips against the rail and studied her. “I’ve seen it happen too many times. Women want what they can’t have, even if what they can’t have isn’t good for them.”

“Is that the way you feel about yourself? That you’re not good for the people in your life.”

“I just don’t want to hurt you. That’s why I got upset when I saw what you’d done with the trailer. The place looks great, and it’ll be easier to live in, but I don’t want us playing at being man and wife. Regardless of the legality, we’re having a fling. That’s all there is to it.”

“A fling?”

“An affair. Whatever. All right—a circumstance.”

“You jerk!”

“You’re proving my point.”

She fought down her anger. “Why did you marry me? I thought it was because my father paid you, but now I don’t believe that.”

“What happened to make you change your mind?”

“I got to know you.”

“And now you don’t think I can be bought?”

“I know you can’t.”

“Everybody has a price.”

“Then what was yours?”

“I owed your father a favor, and I needed to pay him back. That’s all there is to it.”

“It must have been a big favor.”

His expression grew stony, and she was surprised when, after a long silence, he went on. “My parents died in a train wreck in Austria when I was two years old, and I was handed over to my closest relative, my mother’s brother Sergey. He was a sadistic sonovabitch who got his kicks from whipping the crap out of me.”

“Oh, Alex . . .”

“I’m not telling you this to earn your sympathy. I just want you to understand what you’ve gotten yourself into.” He sat down on the bench, and some of the anger seemed to leave him. Leaning forward, he rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Sit down, Daisy.”

Now that it was too late, she wondered if she should have started this, but she’d gone too far to back away, and she took a seat next to him. He stared directly ahead, looking tired and empty.

“You’ve read stories about abused kids who are locked away in attics for years.” She nodded. “Psychologists say that even after these kids are rescued, they don’t develop the same way other kids do. They don’t have the same social skills. If they weren’t exposed to language by a certain age, they never learn to talk. I guess I think love is like that. I didn’t experience it when I was young, and now I can’t do it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not one of those cynics who doesn’t believe love exists, because I’ve seen it in other people’s relationships. But I can’t feel it myself. Not for a woman. Not for anyone. I never have.”

“Oh, Alex . . .”

“It’s not as though I haven’t tried. I’ve met some wonderful women in my life, but in the end, all I’ve done is hurt them. That’s why I’ve been so concerned about your birth control pills. Because I can’t ever have a child.”

“You don’t believe any relationship you have with a woman will last? Is that it?”

“I know it won’t last. But it goes deeper than that.”

“I don’t understand. Is there something wrong with you?”

“Haven’t you been listening?”

“Yes, but . . .”

“I can’t feel the emotions other men feel. Not for anyone. Not even for a child. Every kid deserves to be loved by their father, but I can’t do that.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Believe it! I know myself, and this isn’t some quirk on my part. A lot of people take the business of having children lightly, but I don’t. Kids need love, and if they don’t get it, something damaging happens to them inside. I couldn’t live with myself knowing I’d done that to a child.”

“Everybody’s capable of love, certainly of loving their own child. You’re making yourself sound like some kind of . . . of monster.”

“Mutation might be a better word. My upbringing changed me from the norm. I can’t tolerate the idea that I could have a child who’d grow up knowing his own father didn’t love him. The abuse starts and ends with me.”

The night was still warm, but she shivered as she realized that the ugly legacy of Alex’s violent past had never left him. It had also spilled over to hurt her, and she wrapped her arms around herself. She had never consciously imagined them having a child together, but maybe the idea had wormed its way into her subconscious, because now she felt bereft.

She gazed over at him and saw his profile outlined against the spinning carousel in the distance. The juxtaposition filled her with pity. The brightly painted horses with their wooden manes seemed to be everything innocent, carefree, and childlike, while Alex with his brooding eyes and empty heart was one of the damned. All this time she had thought she was the needy one, but he was far more wounded than she had ever been.