Page 37 of The Millionaire's Mechanic

Rainer took a deep breath, blinked a few times. “Fuck, I don’t know why this is so hard. I told my friends and my therapist all about it. And, compared to what happens to women all the time, my thing is nothing.Nothing.”

His body told her otherwise. A tremor passed over him. Her heart squeezed tight in her chest in sympathy.

Anxious to do anything she could to help, Georgia inched closer, but stopped before taking him into her arms. It didn’t matter that they’d already had sex. She shouldn’t touch him without permission just now.

But Rainer closed the distance, scooting over until his side was pressed against hers. He didn’t take her hand, keeping his forearms resting on his thighs.

“I met a woman,” he began.

Of course, it had been a woman. Nothing else would explain this reaction.

“Not going to lie—up until a few years ago, a lot of women came in and out of my life,” he said, his smile self-deprecating. “I was young and rich, and I enjoyed my life. But this woman, she was something else. Eileen was mesmerizing. And I wasn’t alone in my reaction to her. She affected everyone that way. Every room she walked into, conversations would stop or be derailed.”

Georgia didn’t move, silently cataloging the woman’s attributes and comparing them to her own. She didn’t rate, of course, but she didn’t wheedle for his reassurance.

This wasn’t about her.

“Eileen worked for the British Museum buying antiquities. I was an avid collector so, naturally, I thought it was a match made in heaven. But that was just a cover for her. Eileen’s interest in me wasn’t real. She just needed access to my computer records.” He turned to look her in the eye. His were suspiciously red. “And she drugged me to get them.”

“Drugged? Like she roofied you?”

He nodded. “Except I don’t think she slipped something in my drink. My glass was never out of my hand that I recall. The drug must have been in her lipstick.”

“Shit.” Georgia’s eyes widened, deciding it was stupid to be jealous over a poisoned kiss. “That’s some serious Mata-Hari level, femme-fatale stuff.”

“I know.” He laughed, lifting a hand to wipe his eye. “I woke up the next day wondering what the hell had happened. It took me a while to figure out she’d broken into my laptop, accessing my financial records.”

“Was she a corporate spy?”

His cheeks pulled up, and he shook his head. “Not according to the key-logger program I used—something Powell installed.

“Of course,” she acknowledged. “What did she want?”

“She was after some broker in the art world. I thought it was weird because my information on the man said he was legit. At least I thought so until the broker ended up dead.”

Holy crap! “She could have killed you.” This time, Georgia did touch him, wrapping an arm around his waist. It was grossly inadequate. She wanted to wrap him in bubble wrap and put him where no one could hurt him.

“Actually, the police cleared her in that death,” he said, shrugging. “A DEA agent investigating her came around. They interviewed me. Later, I found out that she teamed up with him, so, ultimately, Eileen must have been on the side of the angels.”

Georgia scowled. “That does not excuse what she did to you. Even if she was some sort of undercover super-spy—there were ways to get that information without hurting you.”

One broad shoulder lifted. “Maybe she thought I was one of the bad guys. And I wasn’t hurt. Not really.”

The sound she made was straight-up Diamond—when her foster mother decided it was time to stop bullshitting around.

“You’re so clean that you damn near squeak,” she snapped, her hand flexing with the urge to slap this Eileen woman silly. “And don’t say you weren’t hurt. It’s no coincidence that this period is when you started living your hermit life or that you began to donate to women’s and children’s charities in large amounts. You did that because you identify with them—because you know what it’s like to be vulnerable, to be violated.”

Her hands and voice were shaking by the end of her speech.

Rainer sniffed, wiping a rogue tear away with the heel of his hand. “I know. My therapist and I have had this particular heart-to-heart a few times. I talked to Garrett, too, and took steps to train to get in better shape. I even learned some hand-to-hand fighting techniques so I wouldn’t ever be that vulnerable. So, I’m not saying it didn’t affect me. But I do think what I went through doesn’t compare to the trauma of abuse survivors. I should have gotten over it by now. In most respects, I have, or at least I told myself I did. Until I tried to start dating again afterward.”

His inability to sleep with her now made so much sense. “No more overnight guests?”

“No anything.” He gave her a mirthless grin. “I told myself the reason those few dates went badly was that I simply wasn’t into those women. That it would be different when I met someone I liked. But even though I doreallylike you, I couldn’t sleep after we—”

Rainer broke off, scrubbing his face with his hands. “Well, you know.’

“I understand,” she whispered. “It was fine when we were sleeping together for warmth, and nothing had happened between us. But now we’ve crossed that line into intimacy, so you can’t be sure of me, not enough to leave yourself unprotected in sleep.”

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