Page 12 of Their Shared Mate
She sat next to him on the sofa and didn’t pull her hand out of his. The physical connection made her feel supported without being overwhelmed. “My parents divorced when I was eleven. Joel had just turned nine and he was devastated. He was convinced that Dad didn’t want him anymore, that he’d done something to drive Dad away.”
“Many children react that way,” Victor said softly.
Joel’s tormented image flashed through Claire’s memory and a sob tore from her throat. It took her a few moments and several deep breaths before she could continue. “Mom tried to comfort him, but Joel lashed out at her. They argued all the time, so he started following me around like a shadow. He depended on mefor everything. Before long, I felt more like his mother than his sister.”
“But you were still a child and you’d lost your father too,” Raphael objected. “Who comforted you?”
She looked at him, feeling oddly protective of her family. “My mother did the best she could. She kept a roof over our heads and food in our bellies. That’s more than a lot of kids get.”
“Tell me about Joel,” Raphael prompted. “What was he like? Did you enjoy spending time with him or was it all responsibility?”
“It was responsibility in the beginning, but we grew closer. Trauma tends to do that to people.”
“And what was he like?” Raphael persisted. “Tell me abouthim, not just the things that happened to him.”
She paused, allowing Joel’s image to form in her mind. “He was quiet, introverted. He liked to read and did really well in school.” She smiled wistfully as she added, “He was the polar opposite of his big sister. I was a good student too, but I drove my teachers crazy. And no one ever accused me of being introverted.”
“Did he have lots of friends? Did you?” Victor asked.
“We moved around a lot. Mom had a hard time holding down a job, so friends were challenging.” She hesitated, not wanting to follow where the story naturally led. Tension banded her chest, and her mouth dried out.
“Keep going,” Raphael urged, his tone warm and encouraging.
Victor stroked her hand, just a light brush of his fingers to remind her that she wasn’t alone.
“I got a lucrative job when I graduated from college and Joel moved in with me. He needed to finish his education, but we couldn’t afford a place on campus.” A lump of emotion formed in her throat, making it hard to breathe, much less speak. Beyond this point there was only pain, paralyzing pain.
Victor squeezed her hand as he said. “Look at me, Claire.”
She slowly looked into his eyes. She felt surrounded by gold, warm and caressing.
“You can do this. Take a deep breath, then tell us what happened.”
Following his directive, she pulled air into her lungs. The tension eased and her throat relaxed as she met his steady stare. “My job was with Nuevo Biotech.” Her whispered confession ended with a shiver. “I was thrilled when they hired me. I thought I’d landed the job of a lifetime. But I had no idea who they really were or what they were doing.”
“And knowing only what you knew at the time, anyone would have reacted the same way,” Raphael insisted. “Before the scandal broke, they were known for stability and prosperity. They were one of the giants in the biomedical field.”
She looked at him and felt more of her emotions melt away. His expression was even more intense than Victor’s, but there was no accusation, no resentment or anger. He just watched her, waiting for her reaction. She suddenly felt the irrational urge to run across the room and curl up on his lap. It had felt so good to be sheltered by his strong arms. She desperately wanted to be there again.
“How long did you work for them before you suggested that Joel apply?” Raphael asked.
“Two years. He was finishing his degree, and I wouldn’t let him quit.”
“When did you find out about the experiments?” Victor asked, his expression carefully guarded.
“After it all blew up. I learned most of the details during the trials.”
Raphael arched his brow as he asked, “Then why do you blame yourself for what happened?”
“Joel was on Rydaria because of me,” she cried. “He was ruthlessly murdered while I stood their paralyzed by fear. How can Inotblame myself.”
Raphael narrowed his gaze and studied her silently for a tense moment. “Would you like to be punished for what happened to Joel?”
“P-punished?” Their gazes locked, his burning into hers. She felt exposed and vulnerable, yet anxious and—she hesitated over the final admission—aroused. But aroused by the thought of punishment? Why in the world would that be true?
Raphael stood and ambled toward her. “If you’re guilty, don’t you deserve discipline?”
Her heart fluttered wildly then tingling heat washed over her in a sustained wave. She knew damn well what discipline meant to Rydarian males. He wanted to spank her, or worse. “It wasn’t my fault,” she insisted as she nervously licked her lips.
