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"What kind of fantasies?"
A hint of a smile crossed her face. "Sexual. Kinky, actually."
"Really?" Despite knowing better, he couldn't prevent the interest in his voice.
"Yeah." She finally met his gaze, her blue eyes warming, the ice melting.
"How kinky?"
"Spankings, being tied up, things like that. I told David about them, at his urging of course. He'd seemed so open, so interested in knowing how to please me, what turned me on."
Now there was the loaded-with-sexuality-Morgan he knew existed under her cool exterior. Fire and passion lurked inside her. And, dammit, he wanted to see it.
"On our honeymoon, David indulged me. Tied me up, treated me gently, but gave me my fantasies. He even spanked me."
"Did it excite you?"
"Very much. Made me wet. Made me come--hard."
Tony sucked in a deep breath, thankful he'd tossed on a pair of shorts after they'd left the pool. Not that the shorts hid his erection. But the thought of Morgan enjoying that kind of sex, the images running through his mind of her spread-eagled and tied to the bed, whet his sexual appetite like no other woman before.
"I haven't had sex since I left him."
Holy shit! "And how long ago was that?"
She shrugged. "Three, three and a half years. I bought Paradise Resort with the money from my divorce."
"Why haven't you had sex?"
"I was scared. After he'd lulled me into feeling secure, into telling him exactly what I wanted and how, he turned the tables on me. He used my fantasies against me."
"How?"
"Spankings became beatings. Being tied up became chains, collars, gags and cuffs. Sex became pain."
Fuck! How could she have survived years of that kind of torture? "I'm sorry."
She inhaled deeply. "It's over now."
Somehow, he didn't think so.
"How did it end?" Tony felt sick, wanted her to stop telling him things he could so easily visualize. He couldn't bear thinking of her being treated as she had.
"David started bringing other men over." She must have caught his horrified expression, because she held up her hand to stop him from commenting. "He let them do the same things to me. One night they beat me so badly the doctor he brought in couldn't stop the bleeding so they had to rush me to the hospital. The police arrived and questioned him. He pleaded with me not to say anything."
Somehow it didn't surprise him the guy had been a coward.
"He told me I could have anything I wanted if I didn't tell. So I made him draw up divorce papers, giving me enough money to get away from him. I changed my last name and left the States, leaving no trail behind me. Before I left, I told him if he ever came near me again I'd tell the newspapers the entire sordid story."
"That took a lot of guts."
"Guts? Hardly. If I'd had guts I'd have left him after the first time he hit me. Instead, I stayed and endured it all those years, hoping somehow he'd tire of the game, or maybe realize that he was hurting me. Anyway, by the time I ended up in the hospital I'd had enough. I wasn't going to be a whore for him. It was bad enough I'd let it go on as long as I did."
"He had a hold on you, Morgan," he said, reaching his hand out to smooth the hair away from her face. Despite his earlier vow not to touch her, he couldn't help it. She didn't even flinch. It was as if telling the story to someone had been a catharsis for her.
He let his hand linger, then slide down and caress her cheek. Her eyes met his.
"I want a normal life again."
"I know you do."
"I want to feel like a woman again, instead of an empty shell. I need to feel that life force surging through me like it did before he ripped my joy away."
So infuriated with her ex-husband he couldn't speak, Tony just nodded.
"Help me," she said, her eyes pleading.
"Anything." He'd move mountains for this woman, although he didn't know why she mattered so much to him. All he knew was he wanted her to heal. He wanted to see the real Morgan Brown. "Tell me what you need."
A glimmer of a smile traced her lips. "I need sex."
Chapter Six
If not for the pain stabbing through her, Morgan would have laughed at the shocked expression on Tony's face. But reliving every moment of that nightmare chilled her, made her feel empty, lifeless.
But it had also helped. She'd never told anyone that story. Not anyone but her family, and they hadn't believed her, hadn't come to her rescue. She had no further use for them.
But Tony, a complete stranger, had listened. Encouraged her to get it out, tell him everything, no matter how repulsive.
Only he wasn't repulsed or disgusted by her. He'd believed what she said to be true, no matter how outrageous. He was sympathetic, but didn't show signs of pity. She wouldn't have been able to handle his pity. He let her speak, let her tell the story, but didn't judge or blame her.
Somewhere deep down inside her, a tiny spark of life flickered.
She desperately needed to feel alive again--to feel whole, complete, in every way.
Especially sexually.
He swallowed. "Sex?"
"Yes. Will you help me?" It was time to put the past behind her. If she didn't, David would win. Even though he no longer physically controlled her, he continued to pull her strings as if they were still attached. Well, no more. It had to stop now.
"Hell yeah," he said, practically leaping out of the chair. That made her smile. Then his expression turned serious. "I mean, of course I'll help you. But are you sure?"
The look of concern and tenderness on his face nearly brought her to tears. But she had no more tears left to cry. She'd left them all in Boston over three years ago. "I'm sure."
She took another long sip of wine to fortify her courage. Just talking about sex again made her break out in a sweat. The thought of actually doing it, of trusting a man enough to let him touch her, might reduce her to a complete puddle of liquid.
But when she looked into Tony's dark brown eyes, she trusted him. She didn't know why--she shouldn't. And yet he'd made it so easy for her to tell the story she'd never told anyone. Maybe it was because he was a journalist and adept at getting people to reveal their secrets.
She hoped to God she hadn't been wrong about him, that she wouldn't find her story plastered all over the newspapers tomorrow morning.
"Tell me what I can do to help you," he whispered, gently stroking her cheek.
Grateful for the warmth coursing through her at his touch, she smiled. "I don't really know. I just know it won't be easy. You don't have to--"
He touched her lips with his fingertips. "I want to do this. I want to help. You need to see that not every guy is a prick like your ex."
She nodded. "We'll have to start slow."
"You call the shots. Tell me what you want."
"Touch me. Not sexually. Just touch me." She'd missed the simple pleasure of human touch, so afraid of anyone's hands on her that the simple act of shaking hands with her guests had made her shudder. But no more, she was through with being afraid.
He stood and held out his hands to her. Inhaling deeply, she slipped her hands in his and waited for the typical rush of revulsion to hit her.
It didn't. Tony's hands were warm and so much larger than hers. Instead of making her feel overpowered, she felt safe. She allowed him to pull her to her feet. Slowly he stepped toward her until his body was inches from hers, and yet not touching. Then he gently folded his arms around her back and pulled her into his chest.
A moment of panic cut off her next breath, but she fought past it. Her heart pounded when she rested her palm on his chest. His own slow, steady heartbeat comforted her, and she laid her head on his shoulder.
When he rubbed her back with light strokes, she didn't flinch.
"Is this okay?" he asked.
"Mmm hmm," she mumbled, afraid to break the spell, afraid to think too much. If she did, she might bolt and run. She didn't want to ruin the m
oment. She was being held and touched again, and it felt so right.
After a few moments she leaned back so she could look at him. "Kiss me."
His eyes sparkled and he graced her with a devilish smile. He dipped his head, lightly brushing his lips across hers. She felt the whimper in the back of her throat and let it out.
