Page 29 of Forbidden Passion

Ciara quickly wiped her tears away, but suspected that her efforts weren’t effective. Was her mascara running? She’d have to reapply her makeup and maybe sit for a bit with some cold spoons on her eyes to alleviate the swelling.

“What are you doing in here?” she asked, but her voice was still raspy from the remembered terror because of that damned song and her sobbing.

“I came here to have some private time with you since you obviously don’t want anyone to know that we’re together,”he explained, then scooped her up into his arms, carrying her over to the sofa.

Ciara tensed, expecting him to initiate sex. So she was startled when he took out a linen handkerchief and gently wiped away her tears. “What’s wrong, Ciara? Are you hurt? Do you need to see a doctor?”

His tender inquiry was her undoing. She’d been tense, ready to reject his advances. So this softer, sweeter side of him just tore her apart. The tears started again and she tried to slip off his lap.

“Stop, love,” he said in his low, husky voice as his hands moved soothingly over her back. “You don’t have to tell me what happened. Just…relax and let it out, love.”

In response, Ciara burst into tears all over again, burying her face against his neck. She felt his arms wrap around her and she tried to stop the outburst of emotions. She knew better than to let something as silly as a song or a memory get to her. She’d gone off to boarding school to escape the brutality of her nanny. She’d healed. She’d recovered and moved on with her life.

Apparently, she hadn’t completely healed if a simple childhood song brought it all back. And a stint in a dark closet. No matter how hard she tried, Ciara couldn’t put that memory back into it’s box.

So she tightened her arms around his neck and cried, sobbing out her trauma for the first time.

A long time later, the sobs slowly died out, but Ciara didn’t move. She should get up and fix her makeup. She’d probably need to redo her hair too. Instead, she sat there on his lap, feeling warm and comforted. She breathed in his clean, masculine scent, enjoying the way he stroked her back.

Finally, sniffing, she tried to pull herself together. “I should…?”

“Relax, Ciara,” he ordered.

Normally, she would balk at a command. But she felt safe at the moment. So she sighed and pressed her nose against the warmth of his neck, accepting his comfort.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nope,” she replied succinctly.

“Okay.” And more soft touches.

“Thank you,” she whispered, suddenly ashamed that she’d taken advantage of him like this.

“Anytime,” he replied, and he sounded sincere.

Sighing, she pushed away from him. “What time is it?”

He glanced at his watch. “Three thirty,” he replied.

Ciara cringed. “I’m late. I had a meeting with the chef and Maggie to discuss recipe options.”

“I suspect that Astra is fully capable of guiding Maggie through that meeting,” he countered, smoothing her ponytail down over her shoulder. He touched her cheek. “Why don’t you freshen up, then have a glass of wine with me? You don’t need to tell me what happened. Just relax for a few more minutes.”

Ciara thought that sounded perfect. She smiled and, because she felt so safe, leaned forward and kissed him lightly before pulling back. “Thank you again.”

Then she slid off his lap and hurried to her bedroom where she sat down at her makeup table and repaired the damage her emotional outburst had caused.

When she reemerged, feeling better, if slightly exhausted after the outpouring of emotions, she walked back into the main area of her suite, then came to a screeching halt.

Falk was still there!

“What…?”

“Let’s have that glass of wine.” he smiled, gesturing to the bottle of wine and two glasses.

She stared at the glasses and the bottle, her mouth-watering. “I really should get back to…well, I have things to do.”

“I spoke to your staff and they told me you’d taken the whole week off to help with event preparations. But now that Astra is here, why don’t you let the expert handle that task?” He moved closer, taking her fingertips with his hand, leading her over to the chairs. “She loves this stuff. I spoke to Antonio earlier and he mentioned that she’s in heaven. She hasn’t been this excited in a long time.” He poured some wine into the glasses. “He thought that she’d been happy back in Spain, planning events for the village near their home. But he’s realizing now that she needs more. Astra’s imagination is so vast that he realizes that she needs the mental outlet of planning larger, more elaborate parties.”