She nodded—far too quickly. Her eyes were still unfocused and her face pale as moonlight. Still, to her stubborn credit she rose to her feet and attempted two whole steps before her legs buckled and she tipped into his waiting arms.
‘This is mortifying!’ she groaned, her face mashed against his chest.
Roman ignored the all too welcome sensation of having her slim figure pressed against him. With a deep breath he lifted her against his shoulder and closed the distance between them and the villa.
Once inside, he deposited her roughly onto the bench in the kitchen and set about preparing a cold meat sandwich on crusty white bread and a tall glass of ice-cold orange juice.
She sipped at the juice with gusto, and a hint of colour reappeared in her cheeks after a moment as she nibbled on the crust of the bread.
‘You eat like a rabbit,’ he commented, when after five minutes she hadn’t taken more than a series of tiny bites.
‘I eat enough.’ She shrugged.
Roman remained silent. She was watching him closely over the rim of her orange juice glass, but did not speak until the sandwich was completely gone.
‘White carbs are my weakness.’ She sighed. ‘You’ve just sent me down a path of total and utter ruination in the eyes of my stylist.’
‘I’m sorry its not gluten-free, but true hunger can’t afford to be picky.’
‘What would you know of true hunger?’ She raised a brow. ‘You eat enough to feed a small army.’
‘I grew accustomed to eating as much as I could fit in once I got out of prison.’ He spoke without thought, and then watched as stark realisation dawned over her delicate features. ‘Old habits, I suppose.’ He shrugged, instantly regretting his words.
‘I never thought...’ She let her voice trail off. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You’re sorry that I was in prison?’ He leaned down, grabbing her plate and turning to deposit it in the sink. ‘Don’t be. I deserved every year I got. Trust me.’
‘No, I’m sorry you had to experience hunger like that. I didn’t think when I spoke. I was just being...snarky.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’
In all the years that had passed since his time in jail, he couldn’t remember anyone ever commiserating with him over the hardships he must have endured. She didn’t even know why he had been landed there in the first place. She knew nothing of the man he had been. No, he corrected himself, the boy he had been.
‘You’re not a bad guy,’ she said quietly.
Roman looked up, unable to conceal his surprise at her words.
‘I mean, obviously I’ve only known you a couple of days...’ She shrugged her shoulders, heat lightly warming her cheeks. ‘But a bad guy wouldn’t have brought me here to begin with. He wouldn’t be making sandwiches at one in the morning to stop me from fainting like a helpless damsel.’
‘Don’t paint me as some hero, Olivia.’ He shook his head. ‘You have no idea how far that is from the truth.’
She made to continue talking, but he’d suddenly had enough. He put a hand up, silencing her. ‘I’ve had a long day, and I’d appreciate it if you considered what I said about obeying my rules tomorrow.’
‘I’ll consider it.’
She shrugged, then walked past him into the hallway and began ascending the stairs, effectively robbing him of the chance to walk away first.
‘That didn’t sound like a yes.’ He sighed, trying and failing to avoid the delectable sight of her shapely bare calves below the hemline of her dress.
‘That’s because it wasn’t one.’
She disappeared from his view.
* * *
Olivia shielded her eyes as her hair whipped around her. The wind was like razor blades at this altitude, but the hour-long hike had definitely been worth it. She braced herself, taking one step out onto the balcony of the lighthouse. Heights had never really been an issue for her, but then again she had never been alone on a ledge in coastal winds before.
But all fear was forgotten once she stepped out and felt the sun spread across her face, warming her through.