The Sweetest Temptation
Chapter 176: Memories

Chapter 176: Memories

Beatrix grinned as he pulled out an array of pre-made salads and a large foil bag. "Is this some kind of Niarchos house rule?" she teased.

He produced a bottle of chilled wine with a flourish, grinning. "And who’s complaining now?"

"Not me," she replied with a laugh.

He turned the bag over, and paper plates, plastic cups, napkins, forks, and a bottle opener spilled out onto the blanket.

"You thought of everything," she said, impressed. She tried to sound apologetic but couldn’t hide her joy. He looked so proud of himself, like a little boy who had just received straight A’s.

As he focused on opening the wine, Beatrix leaned forward on her knees and placed her hands on his shoulder. When he looked up, she placed her lips on his. The kiss was gentle, filled with the love that had been growing inside her.

He dropped the wine, entangling his fingers in her hair. Pulling her mouth onto his, he consumed her. The kiss became intense for a brief moment before he released her, his face darkened by arousal, and something else, something she couldn’t quite place.

He grabbed the bottle of wine. "Don’t get carried away, Bea. We haven’t even tasted it yet."

Beatrix forced herself to ignore the twinge of disappointment. Why hadn’t he continued kissing her? Don’t be foolish, they were in a public place. Anyone could have seen them. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that he had pulled away for a different reason.

Turning to the blanket, she gazed out at the starry sky. She could hear the cries of fireflies.

"So how have you been? Have you been sleeping well? "

Beatrix turned to look at Rhys.

"Well you’re not by side love, how can I sleep?" He smirked at her.

Beatrix rolled her eyes at him. "I’m serious Rhys. How have you been? Have you been getting any nightmares lately?"

Rhys sighed and looked up at the sky. "To be honest, I’ve been having some rough nights. The memories still haunt me sometimes," he admitted.

Beatrix scooted closer to him and took his hand in hers. "I’m sorry, love. I wish I was there with you."

Rhys gave her a sad smile. "Thanks, Bea. But I don’t want to burden you with my problems."

"You’re not burdening me, Rhys. I want to be there for you," Beatrix reassured him.

Rhys leaned in and kissed her forehead. "You always know how to make me feel better."

They sat in silence for a while, enjoying the peacefulness of the night. The fireflies continued to light up the darkness, and the stars sparkled above them.

Beatrix spoke up again, "So what really happened to you Rhys. What causes these nightmares?"

The question popped out before she’d thought about it. She regretted it instantly when his shoulders tensed. Her hands went still.

His past was one of the subjects they never talked about. From the little she knew about it, she guessed it was something he didn’t want to be reminded of, so she had tried hard not to pry.

"I’m sorry,Rhys. I shouldn’t have asked that."

He turned to look at her and studied her.

She bit her lips. What had she done?

"I really am sorry,Rhys. I didn’t mean to bring back bad memories."

Seeing the stricken look in her eyes, Rhys reached out, took her hand in his. "Don’t look so scared, little mouse. You’re curious. You’re entitled to ask."

"I didn’t mean to. It just sort of slipped out."

She hadn’t asked all this time with him, he thought, although he knew she was curious. By not asking, she had given him her unconditional trust.

And he hadn’t done the same for her because he was scared?

Scared that once she knew all the sordid details of his life she wouldn’t look at him with the same adoration, the same affection any more?

Should he stay silent, let the moment pass, or should he give her something back? Didn’t he owe her that much?

"You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to."

The vehemence in her tone made him feel oddly comforted. "Do you really want to know? It’s ancient history."

"Well, I do." Her eyes were fixed on his face. "But only if you want to talk about it."

Drawing a leg up, he rested an arm on his knee and studied the sky and saw a shooting star.

Could he talk about it? Did he want to?

It was weird.

He’d never felt compelled to talk about it before, but, oddly, with her he did.

Beatrix waited, watching his profile, her emotions a confusing mix of anger—at the boy he had been, the horrors he had suffered—and anticipation.

She so desperately wanted to know more about him. Was he finally going to talk to her about himself?

It seemed like an eternity, but eventually he turned back to her.

"The year after I was adopted by Damien’s father I was drugged and taken by some unknown men. I heard them whispering if I was Carlos’ son. The man who killed their madam. They were going to get revenge on the bastard.

They thought I was Damien. I didn’t correct them because I knew once they know it isn’t me they will either kill me or go for Damien.

Rhys’ hands were trembling as he paused and took a deep breath.

"For the next two weeks, those men raped me over and over again using all kinds of toys on me, nonstop. They kept me drugged the whole time, but I was awake, I could feel everything they were doing to me. Remember all their faces. The torture and pain I remember everything."

Beatrix was frozen.

Rhys gripped his hair tightly, his chest constricting and his pulse racing as he tried to process everything that had just happened. The noise in his head was overwhelming, drowning out everything else.

He could feel himself panicking, his body betraying him once again, and he hated that he couldn’t control it. The memories always elicited the same response from him.

Beatrix watched him with concern, unsure of how to help. She tried to soothe him with her words, her voice edged with tension.

"Rhys, just listen to my voice. You’re okay, we don’t have to talk about it anymore."

Rhys couldn’t respond. He felt a lump form in his throat and the pain of his emotions felt unbearable. He cried out in agony, his voice thick with pain.

"Why won’t they stop hurting me?" he shouted.

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