He turned away, tension radiating in every inch of his sixfoot, three-inch frame. “You never asked me about my father.”

“You know who your biological father is?” she asked in shock. She’d just assumed his mother had not known which of her clients had sired her oldest son.

“Yes.”

“Well, don’t make a meal of it.” She pulled him around to face her. “Tell me.”

“If you talked to the other men of his class, they would tell you he was a respected olive grove owner from an honorable family who was lucky in his investments. Only he and his wife had luxurious tastes in living that could not be supported with his olive income. He made investments, but not of the respectable kind.”

“What do you mean?”

“He invested in a stable of women, and yes, that is what he called them. He treated them as well as he would horses, I suppose. He provided for their physical needs, while expecting them to serve his customers. And him. My mother was his favorite. He was the only man allowed to copulate with her without using a condom.”

“He kept her working for him, even after she had his son?” What a prince…not.

“He did not recognize me as such. Not until I was older and he realized his legitimate wife was never going to give him an heir for the family’s grove. He came to the home with the intention of claiming me. He thought I would be grateful he wanted to ‘adopt’ me.”

“What a morally corrupt, not to mention selfish, slimeball.” Her heart ached for the child Zephyr had been and for the man whose ability to trust and love had been so damaged.

man who treated my mother like a commodity and was content to leave

ran away from the home, isn’t

with his mother, before she died.

you two took off

other build lives as far from the ones we’d been born to as it was

“You both succeeded admirably.”

“Yes.”

go tense. “So, you brought your

sighed and tried

wouldn’t let

a position to do so, I made

that made sense. “That ruthless

“Yes.”

go

home every bit as ruthlessly as

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t even

showed on his face.

“So?”

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