Читать книгу Modern Romance March 2015 Collection 1 - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 16

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘GET IN THE CAR, SAM!’

It was such a pleasant sunny Monday morning that Sam had decided to walk Daisy to school, before leaving her daughter safely in her classroom.

Despite Malcolm’s threats on Saturday night—threats Sam had been trying to forget all weekend—she was completely unprepared, as she left the school grounds, to see Malcolm sitting behind the wheel of the sleek black saloon car, the passenger-seat window lowered so that he could speak to her.

Sam desperately tried to gather her scattered wits together as she glared into the open window at him. She didn’t fool herself for a moment that this was going to be any more pleasant a meeting than the one on Saturday evening had been.

Malcolm’s eyes narrowed to blue chips of ice as she made no move to do as he instructed. ‘Get in the damned car, Sam,’ he repeated harshly. ‘Unless you would prefer I get out of the car and we talk right there on the pavement?’ he added challengingly, as several of the other mothers leaving the school gave them obviously curious looks as they walked past them.

Unsurprisingly, when for the last eight months Sam had always been alone when she delivered and collected Daisy from school.

‘What are you even doing here, Malcolm?’ she demanded as she wrenched the car door open and slid into the passenger seat beside him, knowing she had no other choice if she didn’t want to cause a scene. And for Daisy’s sake, she really didn’t.

Her one defiant gesture was to deliberately slam the car door shut. She knew how it would irritate Malcolm; unlike his behaviour towards his wife and daughter, Malcolm had always been obsessive about the care and treatment of his cars.

Shut in the confines of the vehicle with him, Sam instantly became aware of the spicy—and expensive—aftershave Malcolm had always worn, and which she had only ever associated with him. To a degree that if she had happened to smell it randomly these past three years, on some other man, it had always made her feel slightly nauseous. As it now caused her to swallow down the bile rising in her throat.

Goodness knew the rest of her weekend had been awkward enough, without this.

There had been Malcolm’s horrible threats for her to deal with, and on top of that Sam had been dreading seeing Xander again on Sunday morning after the intimacies of the previous evening.

But she needn’t have worried about the latter, because Xander obviously regretted that lapse as much as she did. The two of them had barely exchanged half a dozen words as she’d helped him in and then out of the shower yesterday morning. Later he had refused her polite invitation for him to join her and Daisy when they went swimming an hour or so after lunch. And he had been secluded in his study working when the two of them returned to the apartment, assuring Sam he would get himself a snack to eat later in the evening if he felt hungry.

If he had done so then Sam had been fast asleep in her bed when it happened.

The only positive thing about yesterday had been that Daisy had seemed completely unaware that she’d had a nightmare the previous night. Nor had there been a repeat of it last night, thank goodness.

Sam looked at Malcolm warily. ‘I wasn’t even aware you knew where Daisy went to school.’

He gave her a satisfied smile. ‘You might be surprised at what I’ve been able to find out about you and Daisy in the past twenty-four hours.’

She gasped. ‘Have you had someone spying on me?’

That smile faded as he now looked at her with icy eyes through narrowed lids. ‘I had no idea I needed to until I saw you at the Midas Hotel on Saturday evening,’ he dismissed harshly.

Sam’s heart sank at the mention of that meeting and Malcolm’s threats to her.

Malcolm’s mouth thinned. ‘I hired a private investigator, and guess what he’s already found out? My ex-wife and my daughter are currently living with Xander Sterne in his apartment.’ His eyes glittered darkly.

Colour warmed Sam’s previously pale cheeks. ‘It’s none of your business where we live, Malcolm.’

‘I’m making it my business, Sam!’ Malcolm reached out to take a painful grip of her wrist. ‘Xander Sterne!’ He gave a disbelieving shake of his head.

She struggled to free herself. ‘Let go of me!’ she ordered when Malcolm’s fingers tightened more painfully.

He gritted his teeth. ‘You obviously have a thing about rich and powerful men,’ he taunted.

‘If you mean that I despise them, then yes I do.’

‘The fact you’re living with Sterne would seem to contradict that statement.’

Sam gave an inward shiver at the cold fury she could now see in Malcolm’s eyes. ‘I am not romantically involved with Mr Sterne.’

‘My information says you are,’ Malcolm rasped. ‘And you’ve dragged my daughter into your little affair,’ he continued purposefully. ‘I think that might be grounds for bringing your fitness as a mother into question.’

‘How dare you?’ Sam rounded on him furiously, breathing hard in her agitation. ‘How dare you even say that to me after— You’re the one who has always refused to acknowledge her existence! The one who sold his daughter in exchange for my not asking for a divorce settlement, which would have enabled me to stay at home and be a full-time mother to Daisy. How dare you now accuse me of being an unfit mother, when you have never been a father to Daisy, even for a minute?’ She glowered at him.

He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘Maybe I’ve changed? Maybe I realise it’s time I got to know my daughter better? I’m sure the courts would lend a sympathetic ear if I were to—’

‘No!’ Sam protested fiercely at the threat. ‘I won’t allow it. I won’t allow you anywhere near— We had a deal!’ she accused heatedly. ‘No divorce settlement for me in exchange for full custody of Daisy.’

‘And as I said to you on Saturday evening, there’s absolutely no reason why that can’t continue,’ he came back softly. ‘Once you’ve ditched Sterne and become my mistress, of course.’

Sam stared at him in complete horror, feeling as if her feet had been knocked from underneath her. ‘I won’t—I can’t!’

‘But you will,’ Malcolm insisted. ‘For Daisy’s sake, you know you will.’

Sam looked at him searchingly, once again able to see that cruelty in Malcolm’s eyes and in the harsh slashes beside his nose and mouth. She wanted Daisy to have nothing to do with this man. Being her daughter’s biological father didn’t make Malcolm any less the cruel and controlling man he had always been beneath that outward layer of social charm. There was no telling what damage Malcolm might do to Daisy emotionally if he were to obtain weekly visiting rights with her.

‘Why are you doing this, Malcolm?’ she prompted emotionally, knowing she was on the verge of tears. And she really didn’t want to give Malcolm the satisfaction of reducing her to tears, when he must already be aware, by the hold he had of her wrist, how badly she was shaking. ‘Why?’

‘Obviously because I’ve decided that I want you back in my bed.’ He shrugged.

Sam stared at him dazedly. ‘I don’t love you, Malcolm. I don’t even like you!’

‘What has that got to do with anything?’ He looked at her pityingly. ‘The thing is, Sam, I really don’t like the idea of you belonging to any other man but me. I realised when I saw you again the other night that what’s mine should stay mine.’

‘I don’t belong to anyone, Malcolm.’

‘Not for the past three years you haven’t, no.’ Malcolm confirmed that he really had had her investigated. ‘And you aren’t going to belong to anyone else now, either. So I suggest that you and Daisy move out of Sterne’s apartment as soon as you’ve told him your little affair is over. Preferably before the end of the week,’ Malcolm bit out.

Sam frowned. ‘I can’t do that.’

‘That’s a pity.’ His tone was deceptively mild.

And Sam wasn’t deceived for a moment. ‘You don’t understand,’ she came back agitatedly. ‘I don’t live with Xander Sterne, I work for him. As his carer,’ she added impatiently as Malcolm eyed her sceptically. ‘He was involved in a car accident, and now needs help to—to—’ Somehow Sam didn’t think it was a good idea to tell Malcolm that one of the things she did for Xander was to help him in and out of the shower! ‘I cook for him and help him when necessary,’ she substituted.

Talking of which, it was almost time for her to drive Xander to his physiotherapy session as Paul had the day off.

‘And those duties include you sleeping with him too?’

‘You’re wrong!’ Embarrassed colour heated her cheeks as she recalled how close she had come to doing exactly that on Saturday night.

A guilty blush which caused Malcolm’s eyes to narrow dangerously. ‘Even if what you say is true, you aren’t seriously expecting me to believe that Xander Sterne has a beautiful woman living in his apartment with him, but that he hasn’t slept with her yet?’

‘That’s exactly what I’m telling you,’ Sam maintained stubbornly.

‘And there’s no yet about it,’ she added firmly. ‘I’m only staying at his apartment for a couple of weeks,’ she insisted. ‘Just until his brother returns from his honeymoon. You were at the wedding on Saturday, too, so you know I’m telling the truth.’

‘About Darius being away on his honeymoon, at least, yes.’ He nodded. ‘If what you say is true—’

‘It is.’

‘Then it won’t be difficult to find someone else to take care of him while his brother is away so that you can move out in the next few days.’

Not difficult at all, which was why Sam was so grateful to have this job at all; the Sterne family could have employed anyone to care for Xander, but they had chosen her, Andy had chosen her.

‘I can’t do that,’ she insisted, knowing she couldn’t let Andy down, or forget the fact that the money she earned these two weeks would pay her bills.

Malcolm now eyed her thoughtfully. ‘You’ve changed, Sam; once upon a time you wouldn’t have dreamt of answering me back.’

‘Once upon a time I was stupid enough to think myself in love with you, too!’ she replied heatedly, knowing she shouldn’t antagonise Malcolm in the circumstances, but totally unable to stop herself from retaliating to that last jibe.

His mouth twisted into the semblance of a smile. ‘But not any longer.’

‘That’s one of the reasons we’re divorced, remember?’ Sam eyed him warily.

‘I remember only too well.’ Malcolm’s mouth thinned. ‘I have never liked failure, Sam. And I definitely consider my marriage to you to be in that category.’

She gave a pained frown. ‘And whose fault was that? If you had told me you didn’t want children then I would never have married you in the first place.’ Having long been an orphan, Sam had always wanted children of her own. She hadn’t just wanted children, she had ached for a family of her own, to love and care for, and to be loved and cared for in return. Instead she had got Malcolm.

And Daisy...

Daisy made up for all the pain, all the disillusionment of those unhappy years of being married to a man as cold and controlling as her ex-husband.

She would do anything to protect Daisy.

Anything at all.

‘I want you back in my bed, Sam, and I think you know me well enough to know that I’ll use any means at my disposal to achieve that,’ Malcolm informed her confidently.

Almost as if he had been able to read her thoughts.

And maybe he had. Malcolm already knew that Daisy was Sam’s weak spot, her Achilles heel. And now he was once again using that weakness to his advantage, in an effort to force her into resuming a relationship with him. A relationship that horrified Sam so much she felt physically ill.

‘No,’ she answered him woodenly.

He arched mocking brows. ‘No?’

‘No,’ she repeated firmly.

She had thought about this all weekend, finally accepting that she couldn’t allow herself to be browbeaten by Malcolm again, to be forced into becoming his mistress. She just couldn’t!

There had to be some other way. Some way to stop his blackmail once and for all. There just had to be.

‘And if I insist?’

Sam was breathing hard, her emotions in turmoil. But she couldn’t, she wouldn’t, give in to Malcolm’s blackmail. Because she knew that once it started it would never stop. Until one day she would wake up and find herself once again imprisoned, totally entrapped.

She drew herself up determinedly. ‘You can insist all you like, Malcolm, but my answer will still be no.’

He shrugged, his fingers once again tightening painfully about her wrist. ‘Obviously you would rather the two of us talked through our lawyers.’

‘I would rather—’ She broke off, her eyes stinging with unshed tears, knowing she had to get away, before she gave Malcolm the satisfaction of seeing those tears fall. ‘I have nothing more to say to you, Malcolm. And I have to go now,’ she added before he could speak again. ‘I have to drive Mr Sterne to his physio appointment.’

‘Have dinner with me this evening, Sam, and we can discuss this further then.’

Sam repressed a shiver of fear. ‘I’m not going to do this, Malcolm,’ she told him shakily. ‘Not dinner this evening, not any of it.’

He chuckled softly. ‘Give it time, Sam, and you’ll do exactly as I want,’ he drawled confidently. ‘You have until the end of the week,’ he added coldly. ‘After which I’m calling my lawyer.’

Sam wrenched her wrist painfully from his grasp before opening the car door and climbing quickly out onto the pavement, slamming the door closed behind her, before turning on her heel and walking off in the direction of Xander’s apartment.

All the time aware that her wrist ached abominably, her knees were knocking together, and her body was shaking in complete awareness of the fact that Malcolm had just demanded that she become his mistress by threatening Daisy.

A demand, despite her defiance of him, that placed her as the fly to Malcolm’s spider...

* * *

Xander had been aware that there was something seriously wrong with Samantha from the moment she’d returned from walking Daisy to school earlier that morning. Her face was pale, her eyes almost feverish, and she was totally distracted as she went off to change into a red long-sleeved shirt before silently driving him to his physio appointment. The return journey had been made just as quietly.

Xander was thoroughly worried by her uncharacteristic silence by the time they arrived back at his apartment just before one o’clock, and he now sat at the breakfast bar watching her as she moved about the kitchen preparing lunch. ‘Are you still angry with me for what happened on Saturday evening?’ he finally prompted gruffly.

Events that had resulted in him spending two sleepless nights unable to banish thoughts of Samantha, who was lying in her own bed just a short distance down the hallway. He had wondered if she was also awake and thinking of him.

Somehow Xander doubted that very much.

Samantha had been so cool towards him on Sunday, so businesslike in her dealings with him today, even when helping him in and out of the shower this morning. An occasion when he had been unable to hide the arousal her touch incited in him. He might as well have been a block of wood for all the notice Samantha had taken of that!

And that rankled.

This whole indifference thing Samantha now had going towards him rankled!

Okay, so he had read the signs wrong on Saturday evening, had realised almost immediately that he should have offered her comfort, with his arms and words, rather than kissing her. He was also aware he wasn’t feeling his best right now. His leg was still aching badly from all the extra activity on Saturday; the wedding, Daisy throwing herself at him, kissing Samantha. But he had never had a woman react towards him with such indifference as Samantha had been doing these past two days and nights.

Maybe he was losing his touch?

And maybe Samantha would just rather forget those kisses had ever happened?

Wouldn’t that be a dent to his already bruised ego?

‘What?’ She turned to look at him blankly now, almost as if she had forgotten he was there for a moment, colour suffusing her cheeks as his words penetrated her thoughts. ‘Not in the least,’ she dismissed, her head now buried in the refrigerator. ‘I’d forgotten about it.’

Her sudden blush seemed to indicate that it really had been the last thing on her mind.

Oh, she hadn’t forgotten about it yesterday, had been very skittish towards him over breakfast, so much so that Xander had decided it would be better if the two of them avoided each other’s company for the rest of the day, especially in front of Daisy.

But here and now? Yes, Xander could well believe that this Samantha had completely forgotten about the two of them kissing on Saturday night. The question was, what had happened since yesterday—since breakfast this morning, in fact—to cause Samantha to be so distracted that she wasn’t even defending herself? It was very unlike her.

‘Do you want ham or cheese for your sandwich?’ she asked distractedly now.

‘Both,’ Xander answered her just as dismissively. ‘Samantha?’

‘In that case, your lunch is ready,’ she announced briskly.

Xander glanced down at the breakfast bar, his eyes narrowing as he saw that only one place had been laid. ‘Aren’t you eating too?’

‘I’m not hungry.’

‘You only had coffee for breakfast.’

‘Are you spying on me, too?’ She glared at him accusingly. ‘Because if you are, I advise you to stop. Right now!’ She was trembling with anger.

‘Whoa, Samantha.’ Xander reached out with both arms to grasp her about the waist as she would have turned and marched angrily from the room, his leg giving a protesting jolt of pain as he did so. Xander ignored that pain as he instead looked down searchingly into Samantha’s face; her eyes still sparkled with that earlier temper, her cheeks were flushed with anger, her mouth—her mouth...!

Xander was breathing hard as he gazed down at that perfect, tempting bow, the bottom lip fuller than the top. These were the lips that had haunted him day and night these past two days. And right now those delicious lips were as red and plump as ripe berries, no doubt caused by that same flush of anger.

Why was Samantha so angry? It seemed completely out of context to their conversation.

‘What did you mean when you said too?’ Xander asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. ‘Who else has been spying on you, Samantha?’ he prompted.

Sam’s anger left her as quickly as it had arisen as she realised her mistake. Xander was just too intelligent, too astute, not to have noted and questioned her earlier comment. Or to add two and two together and not to come up with the right answer. If not now, then at some later time.

Xander hadn’t recognised Malcolm on Saturday, and a part of Sam didn’t want Xander to know that she had once been married to a man like Malcolm Howard, let alone that he was now threatening her.

She trembled every time she thought of her earlier conversation with Malcolm—which had been often in the past few hours! She knew she couldn’t allow Malcolm to come even close to demanding visiting rights with Daisy.

Which meant what?

That she would have to telephone Malcolm and agree to have dinner with him this evening, at least?

Sam hated the thought of even doing that, let alone agreeing to Malcolm’s other demands.

But she knew Malcolm too well, knew how clever he was at pretence, how charming he could be, and how easily he would be able to fool a judge into believing he was totally contrite regarding his previous attitude towards his daughter, and that he now wanted the chance to become a father to her.

Daisy would be totally bewildered by suddenly having a father she had never known thrust into her life. Her daughter would be hurt and confused. Miserable. And Sam would be just as miserable, but also worried out of her mind on those occasions when Malcolm was allowed to take Daisy out. It simply couldn’t be allowed to happen.

She looked up at Xander. ‘Would you please release me?’

Xander looked down at her searchingly, totally unsettled by the look of pained resolve in her eyes. As if she had come to a decision she didn’t like. A decision she hated, if the grey tinge to her cheeks was any indication.

His mouth thinned. ‘Answer my question, Samantha.’

‘Release me now, Xander.’ She challenged him as she pulled out of his arms.

Leaving Xander with no choice but to reach out and grasp hold of the breakfast bar in an effort to stop himself from overbalancing and toppling over, at the same time as he reached out with the other hand to fold the length of his fingers about Samantha’s wrist to prevent her from moving any further away from him.

Samantha’s gasp of pain was the last reaction Xander was expecting to so light a physical touch. ‘What’s wrong?’ He scowled darkly as he lifted her arm and saw the bandage wrapped about her wrist, previously concealed beneath the long-sleeved red shirt she had changed into after taking Daisy to school. ‘What happened to your wrist?’ he demanded. ‘Did you cut yourself? Sprain your wrist? Tell me how you did this, Samantha.’

‘Or what? Will you make me tell you, Xander?’ she added scornfully. ‘Refuse to release me until I do?’

All of the above, as far as Xander was concerned, because he was not allowing Samantha to leave this kitchen until he knew exactly what was going on with her. Because something most certainly was!

Except...

He could see by Samantha’s almost resigned expression that she was expecting him to bully her into giving him an answer.

Xander might be guilty of a lot of things—might now be living in fear of his temper allowing him to do even worse things—but bullying a woman, in any way, certainly wasn’t one of them.

He maintained a light hold on Samantha’s arm as his thoughts drifted back to this morning. She had seemed quiet but cheerful enough when she’d made them all breakfast. Her mood had only changed to one of complete introspection after she’d returned from taking Daisy to school. The same time that she had changed into the long-sleeved shirt.

Xander’s eyes narrowed purposefully as he lifted that wrist before folding back some of the elasticated bandage to reveal the multicoloured bruising beneath.

Samantha immediately attempted to snatch her wrist out of his grasp. ‘Don’t!’

‘Who did this?’ Xander demanded with icy intensity, a red tide of anger washing over him as he recognised the bruises about the delicacy of Samantha’s wrist as being in the pattern of fingerprints. A man’s larger fingerprints, if he wasn’t mistaken. ‘Who did this to you, Samantha?’ he demanded harshly.

Tears glistened in her eyes, her lashes blinking, and her bottom lip trembling as she attempted to prevent those tears from falling. ‘I caught it on—’

‘Don’t even attempt to lie to me about this,’ he advised softly. ‘I assure you that you won’t like me when I’m angry,’ he added as he felt that red tide threatening to overwhelm and control him.

Samantha’s eyes were wide, her throat moving convulsively as she swallowed. As clear evidence that she also saw and recognised that anger? That it frightened her?

Well, damn it, it frightened Xander too!

It was exactly what he had been running away from facing these past few weeks. The reason he had begun to avoid other people. The reason he had distanced himself from his family. And hadn’t taken a woman to his bed. The very reason he had been so against Samantha and Daisy coming to live here with him in the first place.

Xander released Samantha abruptly before stepping away from her. ‘Who hurt you, Samantha?’ His gaze sharpened as a thought suddenly occurred to him. ‘It was him, wasn’t it? Your ex-husband,’ he stated flatly. ‘You saw him again this morning when you took Daisy to school. Did you arrange to meet him?’

‘No! Absolutely not. Never,’ Sam instantly denied the accusation, giving a shudder of distaste at the mere suggestion she would deliberately spend time with Malcolm ever again.

Except it was what she was thinking of doing now, wasn’t it? By giving in to Malcolm’s demands?

She dropped down onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar. Before her knees buckled beneath her and she fell down.

‘Samantha?’

‘Just give me a minute or two.’ She waved a hand dismissively in front of her face, head bent as she breathed in deeply.

‘Do you still love him?’

Sam’s gaze flew incredulously to the grimness of Xander’s face. ‘I absolutely do not!’

‘Obviously.’ Xander winced as he both heard and saw her obvious vehemence to the idea. ‘So why would you—?’ He paused, breathing softly. ‘You were obviously upset after seeing him again on Saturday evening. He physically hurt you this morning, as well as upset you again. You’re almost in tears now just talking about him.’ He studied Sam intently. ‘What hold does he have over you that you don’t just tell him to go to—? Daisy.’ Xander’s brow cleared as realisation dawned. ‘The bastard is threatening Daisy in some way.’

That red tide of anger rose even further at the thought of Samantha’s ex-husband daring to threaten Daisey’s happiness. In any way.

Bad enough that Samantha’s ex-husband had physically hurt her today, the man deserved to be horse-whipped for that alone, but the thought that he might also have threatened Daisy in some way was totally unacceptable.

Xander came to a decision.

‘Samantha.’

‘Yes?’ She raised her head to look up at him uncertainly.

‘Samantha, I—’ Xander drew in a deep breath, knowing he was about to take a huge leap of faith, but also knowing that he had no choice if he was to persuade Samantha into trusting him again.

He never talked about his abusive childhood to anyone, but if he wanted Samantha to talk to him now then he knew he had to tell her what had happened to him. That he now had to trust her, to confide in her, if he wanted her to trust and confide in him.

And he did want that. He wanted more than anything for Samantha to trust him.

He drew in a deep and ragged breath. ‘Samantha, until I was twelve years old I lived with a father who enjoyed beating the hell out of me.’

She blinked, and then blinked again, as if she were having difficulty taking in what Xander had just told her. As no doubt she was. His childhood hardly fitted in with that charming billionaire playboy image the media were so fond of portraying.

An image that hid the vulnerability beneath.

A vulnerability Xander found himself surprisingly willing to share with Samantha.

‘Darius, too?’ she finally asked huskily.

A nerve pulsed in Xander’s jaw. ‘No, just me.’

Samantha moistened the dryness of her lips with the tip of her pink tongue. ‘What happened when you were twelve?’

Xander’s jaw tightened. ‘My father died.’

Malcolm had been emotionally cruel, deliberately so, but he had never been physically violent, either towards herself or Daisy. Until today, Sam reminded herself with a frown. Today Malcolm had felt absolutely no compunction about hurting her. In fact, she thought he had rather enjoyed it.

She swallowed. ‘How?’

‘Shortly after putting me in the hospital with a broken arm and concussion, my father fell down the stairs in a drunken stupor and broke his neck.’

‘I don’t recall any of this ever being in the newspapers.’

‘It wasn’t,’ he confirmed abruptly. ‘No one outside of my close family has ever known about the abuse.’

Sam was absolutely horrified at the thought of this man’s childhood. ‘Xander.’

‘Samantha, I didn’t tell you this so that your compassionate heart would feel sorry for me.’

‘It doesn’t,’ she assured swiftly, knowing that Xander’s pride was such that he wouldn’t want, or welcome, pity from anyone. That the self-confident man he had become, the caring man he was towards Daisy, the empathy he had just shown her, were clear evidence that he had risen above his abusive childhood.

‘Not even a little bit?’

‘Well, of course a little bit!’ Sam replied exasperatedly, a large part of her wishing that Xander’s father were still alive, so that she could verbally upbraid him for his treatment of his son.

As a way of slaying Xander’s dragon for him in a way that she couldn’t seem to slay her own?

She grimaced. ‘I would have to be completely heartless to remain immune to what you’ve just told me about your childhood,’ she assured him briskly.

If he was honest with himself, Xander was feeling a little off-kilter now that he had actually spoken to Samantha about his father. He really didn’t discuss his private life with people outside his family. Ever. And yet he had just done so with Samantha.

Admittedly it had been as a way of encouraging Samantha to feel that she could confide in him about her ex-husband, that she could trust him, but even so it was something Xander had never imagined sharing with any woman.

And yet...

He had confided in Samantha as a way of letting her know she could trust him with her own secrets, he had never imagined that by doing so he would somehow feel...free. As if a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

And his heart.