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He wasn’t.
‘But actions speak louder than words.’
What was she talking about?
‘Are you really that afraid of showing your ugly mug to the outside world?’
At any other time he’d have laughed at the ‘ugly mug’. He happened to know for a fact that she was rather partial to his particular ‘ugly mug’ no matter how much she tried to hide it. Except...
Was that what she really thought of him?
His shoulders slumped. ‘I’m not vain, Jo.’
She gnawed at her bottom lip, but didn’t say anything.
He dragged a hand down his face. ‘I made a promise to Mrs Devlin that I would lie low and stay out of the limelight until Ethan was out of hospital. Tabloid journalists would hound me like a dog if they knew I was in Sydney.’
She opened her mouth, but he continued before she could voice her protests.
‘They’d find out—no matter how quiet I tried to keep it.’
‘Why did you make such a promise?’
‘Because the media brouhaha surrounding me and the accident was seriously upsetting for Ethan.’
‘And you wanted to do what you could to make things easier for him.’
‘At the time I’d have done anything either he or his mother asked of me.’ He still would. He leaned towards her. ‘Why don’t you think what I’m doing for Ethan is good enough?’
She reached out and twirled the stem of her wine glass in her fingers. ‘Is that your question?’
Dammit! ‘No.’
She didn’t say a word. Just sat there like the rotten sphinx, sipping her wine. She picked a piece of pepperoni from the pizza and popped it into her mouth.
He watched the action, suddenly ravenously hungry. Their gazes clashed and she stilled mid-chew. For a moment she was all that filled his vision, and then she looked away.
‘What’s your question?’
Her voice came out high and thready. He knew why. The same frustration coursed through his veins and made his skin itch. Would a brief physical relationship really be such a bad idea?
He forced himself back in his seat, closed his eyes and drew a deliberate breath into his lungs. He opened his eyes, but the question on his tongue about the relationship between her, her grandmother and her great-aunt dissolved, to be replaced by an altogether different one.
He leaned towards her and her eyes widened at whatever she saw in his face. ‘What I want to know, Jo, is why you’re so convinced that you’re not beautiful? Who or what made you feel that way?’
She glanced away, traced the edge of her placemat. She opened her mouth, but he cut her off.
‘I want the truth.’ Not the lie he could see forming on her lips. ‘If you won’t give me the truth then don’t give me anything.’
She swallowed and met his gaze. He stared back. He knew how forbidding he must look, but he wanted her to know he was serious about this.
‘We might not be able to explore the physical relationship I’m aching to explore with you, but out here in the boondocks we can at least be honest with each other.’
Eventually she nodded. ‘Okay.’
She pushed her hair behind her ears and then drained what was left of her wine—which was a not inconsiderable half-glass.
‘When I was in school I was always teased for being a giant. I might have been picked first for basketball games, but I was always picked last at school dances. Boys obviously didn’t like to date girls who were taller than them.’
He grimaced. Kids could be cruel.
‘But when I was nineteen and at university I fell madly in love with a chemistry student. I thought...I thought he had feelings for me.’ Her knuckles turned white around her glass. ‘It turned out, though, that I was a bet—a dare. It was some kind of Chemistry Club challenge—the guy with the ugliest date for the Christmas party won.’
Mac couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘He... You—’
He broke off, shaking all over.
‘Me and some of the other girls caught wind of it and dumped them all before the event, but...’
But it had made her doubt her beauty. And she’d been doubting it ever since.
She refilled their glasses and handed him one, glancing up at him from beneath her fringe, her eyes bruised and wounded.
‘I don’t want to talk about this, Mac. I answered your question and the conversation is now over.’
‘No!’ He exploded out of his chair. ‘I can’t believe you’ve let a bunch of immature jerks let you feel like this—made you feel ugly and worthless. You’re beautiful and you’re worth a million of them.’
‘Go and see Russ, Mac, and then we can talk about this as much as you like. But until then—zip it.’
