Page 28 of Sins of the Father
Her laughter broke free—bright, unrestrained—and something in Luc’s expression softened. For a moment, the darkness she always sensed in him eased, replaced by something quieter… warmer.
So he did. Patiently, inexorably, he taught her to let the water carry her, to float, to find balance. His hands were everywhere—at her back, her hip, brushing her arm—firm, commanding, impossible to ignore. Sometimes it felt unbearably sensual, his chest pressing to hers, his voice murmuring in her ear, heat and salt and power wrapping around her.
But then, at some point, she scarcely realized, his hands slipped away. Mia kicked, stretched, and found herself moving on her own, the waves lifting her up, bearing her forward.Another laugh burst from her lips, wild and free. She turned her head, and Luc was watching her, a smile on his face. Not the cold smile she had come to fear, but something warmer, unguarded. The sight made her stomach flutter in ways she didn’t want to name.
She stopped swimming and tried to stand. Mia gasped. She had gone out farther than she meant to. Her toes no longer touched the sand and, for a heartbeat, she thought she could feel the ocean take her whole. Panic flared hot and immediate. She shrieked, and the world turned liquid and black.
Something seized her from behind—hands like iron at her waist—kicking hard, driving them both up through the surf. He hauled her to the surface, and she gulped air like a drowning thing. The sky stung her eyes. Her chest heaved. Heart banging, she was painfully aware of the solid heat of his body pressed to her back, the press of him steadying her in the swell.
His palm spread flat across her belly, fingers splayed. Through the thin fabric of her suit, he traced the old scar along her side, rubbing as if cataloging each ridge.
“I’ve wanted to know what caused this,” he said, his voice low and almost casual against the roar of the sea.
She twisted, outraged and wet, and managed, “How would you even know about that?”
“Your apartment in St. Joseph was bugged. I saw you in the shower.”
The words landed with an ugly clarity. Heat rose to her face, and shame tangled with fury. “You cretin,” she spat, voice raw.
He laughed then, that soft sound that slid across her ear, and before she could think, he nipped her earlobe between his teeth. The small, intimate bite only sharpened the sensations writhing inside her chest. “Did you watch me shower?”
“Yes.”
“You areshameless.”
“A quality I have long owned to.”
Oddly, Mia smiled. “When I was ten,” she said, steadying herself with an effort she didn’t trust, “I fell out of a tree and cut myself. The convent walls were high, and I wanted to see what was beyond them, and I could only do that by scaling that tree, even though it was so intimidating. The next day, they cut the tree down.” Her voice went flat with the memory. “They said it was to keep me safe from curiosity, which brings its own danger.”
He watched her quietly, his expression unreadable, fingers still tracing along her arm where the sea breeze had cooled her skin.
“You felt trapped behind the convent walls,” he said, his tone reflective.
“I… for a few years, I did,” Mia admitted softly. “But as I grew older, St. Mary’s became my home. It was all I knew. Still, the longing to see the world never left me. I used to dream about the places my frien—”
She cut herself off abruptly, the word catching in her throat.
Luc’s eyes glinted with dark amusement at her sudden silence. “I know of Bianca,” he said quietly. “You can speak of her.”
Mia’s stomach knotted. She didn’t like how easily he had read her thoughts—or how casually he dropped her friend’s name. The reminder of his reach, of the unseen eyes and ears he commanded, sent a cold ripple through her. Mia’s throat felt tight, but she forced herself to clear it, trying to dispel the unease clawing up her spine.
Mia pasted on a faint smile, hoping he couldn’t see her fear. “Then… yes,” she murmured, her voice steadier than she felt. “Bianca. She’s the one who used to tell me stories about the world outside. She spoke of the many places she visited—the Aegean Sea, the Eiffel Tower, the Caribbean, and the GrandCanyon. They sounded so vast, so full of life. I want to see all of them one day and so many more.”
His gaze softened, though there was an edge of something darker beneath it.
“Those cold walls devoid of anything personal are not a home,” he said. “They were a cage dressed as a sanctuary.”
Mia peered up at him, startled by the conviction in his voice. The wind tangled her hair, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of old bitterness in his eyes.Have you ever felt caged in this life?she asked silently, not daring to give voice to the thought.
Mia didn’t know how to feel around him. His presence radiated warmth now, a strange kind of safety she didn’t trust. His earlier words about love—spoken so matter-of-factly—had made him sound almost human, almost like any other man who wanted to be understood. Yet something in his eyes had betrayed the illusion. She had the sudden, uneasy sense that if Luc ever loved, it would not be a gentle thing.
He wanted her affection not because he needed it, but because it would bind her more tightly to him, another chain disguised as tenderness. And though he had promised honesty, Mia found herself too afraid to ask the questions that clawed at her heart.
“I will give you a proper home,” he continued, lifting his hand to brush his fingers over her cheek. “One in every country, should you wish it. And I’ll make sure you see every place you’ve ever dreamed of.”
Her breath caught at the promise. “Would I be alone… or would you come with me?”
His eyes softened, though a shadow lingered there. “If you wish me there, I will be there.”
