The Millionaire by Victoria Purman Page B

eyes, but she lifted her chin, challenging him.
    “Then they didn’t deserve to be there.”
    Ellie’s breath caught and a fat tear rolled down her cheek and dripped onto her breast. When Chris leaned down, kissed it away, she began to cry.
    “Ellie, don’t.” Chris pulled her into his arms, soothed her, kissed the top of her head and caressed her back, so deliciously gentle.
    He was doing and saying all the right things, but she’d seen the look on his face. When he’d lowered his gaze to her scars, he’d flinched. Even though she’d lived with them for two-thirds of her life, she still wasn’t prepared for the look in people’s eyes: the questions, the pity, the demands from total strangers that she share her life story with them, as if they thought it their right to know, as if she should fling open her medical records and tell them every single detail of what had happened.
    Chris had hesitated. She’d felt the tension in his hands at her shoulders, seen the clench in his jaw and the momentary blank look in his eyes.
    “Chris—” she said.
    “Ellie—” he said at the same time. “Trev warned me. Said you’ve been through a lot. Is this what he was talking about?”
    She nodded, her eyes shining with tears. “Yes. After I was burned, I came out here, stayed for the rest of that summer with Grandpa and Nanna. They looked after me. They saved me.”
    Chris enveloped her in his arms, but his hold was heartbreakingly loose.
    Ellie’s heart ached at the pity she felt in his embrace. She slipped out of his arms. “I’m really tired. I need to get some sleep. We have to be at the airport early tomorrow.”
    He cupped her cheeks with his big hands. “Ellie, listen to me. Your body is beautiful. It’s strong and it survived what happened to you. I’m not afraid of your scars.”
    His words hit her like a sledgehammer. She’d always believed she wasn’t afraid of them, either. She’d believed herself to be strong, to be proud of who she was and what she’d become.
    So why was she running?
    “Goodnight,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
    And she couldn’t look back.

Eleven
    ‡
    T he next morning, Ellie threw her arms around her grandparents for one final hug. This visit hadn’t been long enough and she’d been so distracted by the photo shoot and Chris that she hadn’t spent as much time with them as she wanted to.
    “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks at the airport. I’m so excited you’re coming to Sydney for the ball.”
    “Look after yourself,” Trev said.
    And in the quick moment he met her eyes before turning away, she saw a look in her grandfather’s eyes that she recognised. As much as he tried to remain stoic, she could see in his frown that he was worried about her.
    “Be good, Ellie love,” Vilma added.
    Chris manoeuvred around Ellie to kiss Vilma on the cheek and give her a hug. “Thanks for having me. This is an incredible part of the world. I’m glad I got to see it.”
    He held out a hand to shake Trev’s. “And, Trev, thanks for playing at being a supermodel.”
    The old man harrumphed good-naturedly. “It hope it raises plenty of money, that’s all I’ll say.”
    “It definitely will, especially with you there. Thank you, Grandpa,” Ellie said and damn it, she started to cry.
    It happened every time she left the farm and, since Grandpa’s health scare, it was becoming worse each time she left. Every time The Plains grew smaller in the distance, in the shimmer of heat and dust, she wondered if this would be the final time she would see either of her grandparents. They weren’t young any more, and she was so far away in Sydney.
    There was an arm around her shoulders. It was Chris, drawing her in to the comfort of his embrace. She fought the urge to bury her face in his chest and let go. It felt so damn good but it was impossible. She hadn’t forgotten the look in his eyes when she’d revealed herself to him last night. Whatever he’d felt before that,