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Frustration screaming through him, he dropped his hands from her, and he moved away.

She began to shake and her eyes welled with tears. She took a shuddering breath, and her tears began falling in earnest.

He watched her crying, great, gulping sounds as the tears ran down her face. She wiped at them frantically with the back of her hands, and within seconds her face was streaked with mascara. Her distress was heartrending, and it was confusing to him.

Confusing as hell.

He attempted to sooth her while self-disgust bled through his veins. “Hey. It’s okay. I’m sitting over here. You can calm down now.”

Her shoulder turned toward him in a stiffened posture that screamed of her resistance. She glanced his way, studied him, and looked as if she was trying to regain some control. “I’m sorry. I know you warned me not to cry—”

“What? When did I warn you not to cry?”

“That first day in your office.”

He thought back to the day she’d come to see him and remembered how angry he’d been. Prior to that, he’d chased her relentlessly, sending those goddamn flowers all the time. His embarrassment had turned into belligerence. In his anger, had he actually told her not to cry? His temper exploded at himself, and at her for taking every word that came out of his mouth so damn literally. “Goddamnit, Katie. You think I’m a fucking monster?”

She took a shuddering breath and the tears came harder.

He felt her distress like a fist to his solar plexus. He stifled his confusion and impatience and turned his focus to her tears. She was crying so hard now he knew she believed he truly was a monster and he was wondering if she wasn’t right. How could he have treated her so badly? His conscience licked fire through what remained of his heart as he tried to gentle his tone. “Baby, I’m sorry. Don’t cry. I shouldn’t have said that to you before. I was angry when I said it. I just don’t want to see you like this.”

She wiped the backs of her hands down her cheeks to erase the tears and visibly tried to regain control.

When she looked like she had it within her grasp, he tried again. “I’m not a monster, I don’t want you to think of me that way.”

She directed a piercing stare at him and hissed, “I don’t know what to think about you. One minute you’re mean as hell and the next minute you’re gentle and the next minute you strip me and attack me.”

Her words almost annihilated him. A hit of pain slammed his chest and pierced his heart. “I did not attack you,” he said pointedly. “I tried to kiss you and you refused. The end.”

“You stripped m-me, Zach.” Her voice wobbled and her eyes filled with fresh tears.

“Katie.” He wanted her to look at him, to make her understand that his intent had not been to hurt her. Didn’t she know the difference between assault and seduction? Again, the thought that she might be a virgin entered his mind. “Katie, sweetheart, I’m sorry I scared you.” She refused to look toward him again. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you so scared? Are you still a virgin?”

Her head snapped around at that. Heated anger radiated from her eyes. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Not particularly. I wouldn’t mind it. But I don’t expect it. So what’s the answer? Are you a virgin?” His tone was becoming impatient.

“We’ve been through this before, Zach.”

“Three goddamn years ago. I didn’t get an answer then and three years is a long time. Let’s do this again. But this time, you’re going to give me an answer.”

“It’s not your business.”

“Jesus Christ, Katie, are you a virgin or were you raped? Your reactions aren’t normal for a twenty-three year old woman.”

Katie blanched and looked across at him with such an expression of pain and hostility that the sudden, horrendous truth kicked him in his gut. In that moment, he realized sharply and irrevocably that she’d been traumatized in the past. And he knew, because of her previous experience, that what he had just pulled on her had very nearly traumatized her again.

Horror at what she’d gone through and a need to kill somebody bled through his veins. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Guilt coursed through him like a cold douche of water in the face, but it wasn’t the overriding emotion he was feeling. He was appalled that anyone could have hurt her; he was so pissed he felt an overwhelming desire to commit murder.

But right at this moment, he needed to force his own feelings aside and fix what he’d just done. She was scared and upset and damn near traumatized again and he needed to soothe her, now.

He stood in one motion and the water sluiced down his body as he climbed from the spa. Grabbing a towel, he wrapped it around his hips and brought the other towel to her and laid it down beside her.

As Zach watched Katie sitting in the water so quietly, his shock was replaced by primal emotions. He wanted to protect her and comfort her, keep her safe from himself and any other man or animal that tried to hurt her. And the need to know the story was not going to go away, he needed to know the story, so he could inflict pain or even death on the man who had hurt her.

He ruthlessly put his volatile emotions on the back burner. Getting himself under control, he managed to speak in a level voice. “Here’s a towel, sweetheart. I’m going to put on some dry clothes. I’ll give you some space and privacy while you do the same.”

He turned to go back inside. Then he stopped, and spelled out his demands, even as he tried to temper his voice. “I want you meet me in the living room in thirty minutes, okay?

His words stopped abruptly when she looked up at him, her wounded heart glistening in her eyes, her lashes sparkling wet from her tears. “Is it always about what you want, Zach?”

The look in her eyes almost decimated him on the spot and the need to hold her in his arms was like a tangible thing. “No, baby, it’s not. Not ever again. Just meet me in the living room, sweetheart.”

He turned and disappeared through the French doors.

Chapter Twelve

A Promise Renewed

When the door shut behind him, Katie closed her eyes and leaned her head against the tile coping. The last thing she wanted to do was tell Zach anything, because she didn’t want to have to bring the memory to the surface. But he was going to want to know the story. Could she placate him with just the

basic, simple truth? The details weren’t something she wanted to dwell on. Already, she was aghast that she had reacted with such emotion. Had she really thought he would hurt her? Or had the shock of him trying it on with her, coming on the heels of his declaration that she was safe for now, set off the panic inside? Whatever, it had happened. And now he knew her deepest secret. And she was kind of glad he knew now. Maybe he’d understand why she’d always acted like she had toward him. Would he understand? Her stomach sank. She stood up, before the stress of the situation began to eat her alive.

Zach was standing by the fireplace mantel, a glass of bourbon in his hand, when she walked into the living room forty minutes later dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. He lifted his head when he heard her approach and looked into her eyes, as if searching for a clue to her state of mind. And she knew what he would see. She was still upset, but much better than she had been in the spa. The mascara was gone and she had washed away all signs of recent tears. She stood in the doorway and waited.

He ushered her in with a wave of his arm. She hesitated, and then came to the single chair flanking the couch. She sat down, and waited for him to start his inquisition. When he offered her a drink and she turned it down, he wasted no time in speaking.

“I want to apologize again for scaring you. It was never my intention.” He stood erect, his posture held in stiff lines. It was more than obvious to Katie that he was upset to find out she’d been hurt, and he seemed sincerely contrite for alarming her. But nevertheless, if he hadn’t forced her to come here with him, none of this would have happened.

She stood up, plucked a small pillow off the couch and moved back to her chair and fell into it. She wanted to move past all of this, get as much of it as she could out in the open. But she was still mad at him for his machinations. She held the pillow in front of her as if it were armor, and cut her eyes up to his and blasted him with words that were spoken softly but heatedly. “Sure. Scaring me wasn’t part of your plan of revenge, control, and sexual manipulation.” Her words faltering at the flinch of pain she saw on his face, she lost some of her anger and ended on a miserable whisper, “bonus points for that, Zach.”

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