Free GHOSTS OF ST. BARTS a totally addictive romance read (St. Barts Romance Books Series Book 5) by EMME CROSS Page A

brain. He couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t think about anything else. The sight of the two of them had even driven to the back of his mind his sorrow over his granddad’s death.
    Sunny reached over to hug the little boy. Charlie flinched at her touch, yanking away, his elbow jostling hard against her sore upper arm.
    A cry slipped out from between her lips as he struck her bruised flesh.
    “Don’t touch me! Don’t you touch me.”
    “Charlie, honey. It’s okay. It’ll be all right. You just need some time,” Sunny said in a soothing voice.
    Then Sven approached. “She’s trying to help. You don’t have to hurt her.”
    Charlie looked up at him, his hazel eyes blazing. “You should talk about hurting!”
    “Charlie!”
    He stared at their shocked faces, eventually fixing his gaze on Sunny. She acted so gentle and nice. Yeah, right.
    “I saw. I saw it all. I’m not the one who hurt you.” He got up and ran out of the room.
    Colin rushed over. “I’m sorry for this. I can’t get him to talk to me. He’s been like this since the night Henry died. Staying in his room. Hiding behind the lens of that damn video camera my father gave him. It’s like he wants to put a distance between himself and real life. It’s as though something’s broken inside.”
    * * *
    Sunny looked up, pale and shocked. Her mind went back to the night Henry died. Charlie had said, ‘I’m not the one who hurt you. You should talk about hurting.’ He’d said it to Sven. Suddenly she realized. The boy knew. He’d seen. Oh, poor Charlie!
    Ignoring the puzzled look her husband gave her, she rushed out of the library, saying over her shoulder, “Let me talk to him. I have to talk to him.”
    Sunny scoured the house. Charlie wasn’t in the kitchen or on the main floor. He wasn’t in his bedroom or the billiard room. She was about to give up when she heard his voice coming from the nursery. Charlie was standing over her sleeping daughter, talking and sobbing.
    She stood in the doorway. “May I join you?”
    Charlie looked up and away, smearing the tears from his cheeks with the back of a hand. “She’s your baby.”
    “And she’s your sister, sort of. Henry was your grandfather and her godfather, so that makes you family. When I’m upset I like to spend time with her too. A happy child seems to chase away the bad feelings.” She kept her voice neutral. “What were you two talking about?”
    “She may not be happy for long. I know what it’s like when your parents get divorced. It’s awful. Everyone fighting.”
    “Charlie, Sven and I aren’t getting divorced. Where did you get that idea?”
    She let the silence build. It didn’t take long for him to fill it.
    “I saw you. You won’t stay now, not after. . . that. How could you?” He angrily shrugged off her comforting touch. “It’s my fault! I should have stopped him. I saw you fighting and I heard you moan. He was hurting you and I didn’t help. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let him . . . rape you!”
    The horrible word slipped past his lips in a choked whisper before he could stop himself.
    “You thought Sven raped me?”
    Sunny was aghast. What exactly had happened? She still couldn’t untangle what had been real and what had been a filthy memory; it was like fragments of a nightmare. But she understood at once how it must have looked to the boy. She held his hand firmly when he tried to pull away.
    “Look at me. Now.” Her voice was soft but insistent. She must make him understand.
    “I’m sorry that what you saw confused and upset you. It wasn’t rape. Sven couldn’t, wouldn’t rape me. He’s my husband and I love him. It would be like denying a part of myself. It wasn’t rape, Charlie. Never. He would never, ever, ever do a thing like that. Not to me, nor any woman. Sven is kind and gentle and loving. He’s the best husband and father a woman could hope for.” The words, spoken aloud, calmed Sunny’s own troubled heart.
    “I’ve been