‘It’s easy to judge from the outside looking in, Leo.’
The reproach in her tone made the tips of his ears uncomfortably warm.
‘There’s a hundred reasons women stay trapped in abusive relationships. Fear of reprisal. Fear of isolation from loved ones. Fear of being alone. Believe me, I’ve tried talking to her, but she shuts me down every time.’
He heard the tremor in her voice, saw the quiver in her lip she tried to suppress, and cursed.
To hell with not touching.
He shifted over and lifted her into his lap. She stiffened, surprise flitting over her pale features. But as he wrapped his arms around her, her body softened, acquiesced, and she dropped her head on his shoulder.
‘I am sorry, cara,’ he murmured against her hair. ‘I know how painful it is to watch someone you love suffer.’
Everyone he’d loved had suffered. His mother with cancer. His father from grief and addiction. Marietta, whose life had been irreversibly altered by that one fateful decision.
Helena turned her face into his neck and he buried his fingers in her hair, the soft, peachy scent reminding him of the organic fruit orchards surrounding his villa in Tuscany.
He closed his eyes.
Five weeks they’d had together in London.
Five short, intense weeks. Barely enough time to get to know one another, and yet he’d fallen like a teenager on his first romantic crush.
Hell.
Had he really thought he could bring Helena to Rome for seven nights, keep her in his home, his bed, and not risk a return of the insanity that had proved his downfall the first time around? It was a colossal mistake—one he would no doubt regret. But not today. Not yet. Not until he had all the answers he needed.
‘You said your father hit you twice.’
Instantly her body tensed. He waited until she relaxed, her breath warm on his neck as she released a pent-up breath.
‘After that first time I’d never seen my mother more furious—or more willing to stand up to my father. It was the most violent argument I’d ever heard them have—and I’d heard a few.’ She paused. ‘I was in my room and couldn’t hear it all, so I don’t know everything she said to him, but I do know he didn’t lay a hand on me again for six years.’
Swiftly Leo calculated that she’d have been nineteen when Shaw had next assaulted her. His brows sank. Nineteen. Her age when he’d met her. Coincidence? A sick feeling in his gut told him it wasn’t.
‘The night you wouldn’t see me...after you sent me away from your hotel,’ she said, her words segueing from his thoughts with uncanny accuracy, ‘I went to confront him. I knew Mum was out at some charity thing but I was too angry for caution. Too upset to notice he’d been drinking.’ A faint quiver undermined her voice. ‘One minute he was cool and condescending, the next...he lashed out so quickly I never saw it coming.’
Leo gritted his teeth.
‘My lip split,’ she said before he could speak, ‘and I fell, hit my head on the fireplace. When he came at me a second time I picked up the first thing within reach—an iron poker—and swung it at him.’
‘Dio!’ She’d fought back? Gutsy, but unwise if she’d had the safer option of fleeing. He smoothed her hair back, pulled her chin up so he could look at her. ‘That could have been dangerous, cara.’ He ran his thumb over the soft skin of her cheek, made the mistake of imagining that cheek bruised, her mouth bloodied. Tension coiled in his muscles. ‘What happened?’
‘I struck him,’ she whispered, emotion creeping in now, her shoulders hunching forward. ‘And he...he went down. I was horrified. I felt sick. There was a gash on his head and...and a lot of blood. I ran to help him, but he was already staggering to his feet and he shoved me away—so hard I fell again.’ She shook her head, as if trying to dispel the ugly images. ‘I got out as fast as I could and... Well, you know the rest. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since.’
‘And he cut you off?’
‘He cut off my allowance, stopped paying my college fees, but I chose to make it on my own. As long as he supported me financially I was bound by his rules. His dictates. I wanted freedom, for myself and—’ She stopped suddenly.
‘Helena?’
She pulled her chin from his grasp, looked down. ‘I... I wanted to live free of his control.’
Her fingers plucked at a button on his shirtfront and he covered her hand, stilled her fidgeting. ‘Your father never met me, yet he took exception to our relationship. To me.’ Even now, years later, that rankled deep. ‘Why?’
Her hand curled into a delicate fist under his. ‘Father had rules for everything—including who I dated. Boys who were wealthy, British and well-connected were the only ones deemed acceptable.’ She emitted a soft snort. ‘He never tried to hide his disappointment that his firstborn wasn’t a son. He once said my greatest worth was as marriage material, so I should at least choose someone he could benefit from.’
Leo’s stomach clenched. He’d thought his loathing for the man couldn’t deepen. He’d been wrong.