But apparently not today, because she let out a breath then said, “He was a surgeon, like I said, and I wanted very much to do something that would make him proud of me. So I spent the whole of my sixteenth year paying attention to my studies. I…wasn’t the best at school, but I tried very hard that year, because he liked me to. I got a B plus for Biology in the end, and I was very pleased. And I expected him to be impressed, but…he wasn’t.”
She turned her head slightly away, as if she didn’t want him to see her face. “He was disappointed I hadn’t got an A, told me I needed to work harder and not to bother him for any less than an A minus. I was…furious. I don’t know why it hit me so hard that night, it just did. I’d tried so hard for him-I always tried hard for him-but he just wasn’t interested.” Her voice had become scratchy. “I lost my temper. I wanted to hurt him the way he’d hurt me and so I grabbed my mother’s picture off his desk and took it out of the frame. And then I ripped it up into pieces.”
She didn’t look at him, the setting sun gilding her lashes. “It was very precious to him because it was the only photo he had of her and he’d loved her so much. He’d never got over her death and I knew that. It was my mother who’d wanted a child, not him, but then she died and he ended up with me, and I… I guess I ended up being a reminder of that.”
She paused. “He was so upset about the photo. I’d never seen him get so emotional about anything. And then he…just collapsed. I had to call an ambulance and they took him to hospital. He’d had a fairly serious stroke and, although they told me it wasn’t my fault, I…”
“You still blamed yourself,” he finished gently.
Her lashes lowered again, the tension receding from her muscles as he kneaded her shoulder. “Dad was always telling me I needed to control myself and he was right. I wanted to hurt him and I did.”
But no, he couldn’t have her thinking that. Because it wasn’t true. The only thing she was guilty of was loving deeply a father who couldn’t love her in return. A father who was too busy grieving someone who was gone.
Kinda Like you.
No, not like him. Because it was apparent that Anna still cared, while his own heart remained empty. All his caring was gone. He’d used up the final dregs of it the day he’d left Haerton with his mother.
Cedric gripped her gently and turned her over on her back, so her pain-filled gaze looked straight up into his. She protested a little, trying to turn away, but he put one hand on the side of the lounger, leaning on it as he took her determined chin in his other hand, holding her still.
“Listen to me,” he said flatly. “Yes, you were angry and yes, you lost your temper. Yes, you wanted to hurt him. But you were only sixteen and you can’t take responsibility for his failings. You were his daughter. He should have loved you and accepted you for what you were, not blamed you for what you weren’t.”
“But I-”
“No. You’re not difficult and you’re not a “handful”. You’re not demanding. And your temper is a beautiful storm. You are a beautiful storm, do you understand?”
He said the words calmly, clearly, and with all the conviction in him, because they were true and he wanted her to know it. “You’re passionate and curious and you feel things deeply.”
He leaned down, holding her chin firmly, and nipped at her bottom lip, making her breath catch. “You’re a goddess, Anna. A bonfire.” Another nip. “A solar flare.” He kissed her, taking his time, taking it deep, hot. “You’re stubborn and challenging and I like it.” Another nip, a little harder.
“I like you angry. I like you passionate. I like you wild. I like you the way you are and you don’t ever have to be anything else for me.”
Anna was trembling, her gaze wide and smoky and dark. She didn’t say a word, only reaching for him, bringing his mouth down on hers. But that was all the response he needed, because he could taste her answer in the desperate, hungry kiss that she gave him, as bright and as passionate and as demanding as she was.
And there in the sunset he took the flame that she was and stoked it higher, turned her into a bonfire, a goddess blazing in her glory. Then he let those flames of hers burn him to the ground too.
_______________
Anna sat curled up in the soft leather seat of the jet on the way back home, reading a book Cedric had bought her. She found it fascinating, but it was getting harder and harder to concentrate because Cedric was lounging in the seat opposite her, long legs outstretched, gazing at her very intently from underneath his long black lashes.
He was planning something, she could tell. Anticipation coiled inside her, along with a certain heated excitement. She loved it when he looked at her like that, like a very hungry panther looking at his prey.
He’d done that a lot over the previous week. He’d done a lot of other things too, showing her all about how taking one’s time could lead to the most delicious pleasure. Talking with her about any topic she wanted to discuss, his mind a storehouse of seemingly irrelevant yet fascinating facts that he was more than happy to share. Arguing with her-she especially loved that-about inconsequential things which always ended up with them in bed, who was right and who was wrong forgotten. Taking walks with her and clearly reluctant to do so, yet willing to go along all the same, before taking her back to the small library and going over some of the things they’d seen out on their walk in the pages of the books there.
Sometimes he was quiet, reading or working on his laptop, and then she’d like to sit and watch him, his stillness somehow calming and relaxing.