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What had happened to him? Who could have done such a thing?
‘Some people deserve to be hurt, ma petite.’
And suddenly she knew exactly who. And the words he had whispered before they’d fallen on each other—to try and erase the hurt with sex—came back, too.
‘Because I am not worth it.’
Sharp pain dug into her stomach, her gasp of distress ringing off the room’s luxury furnishings.
His body went rigid and he heaved himself off her. Their gazes locked.
Shame flickered across his face, making the knife in her gut plunge deeper.
All the questions, came tumbling back, but she had answers to them all now.
So this was why they’d always made love in the dark or the semi-darkness...why he always left her in the morning...why he hadn’t shared a bedroom with her...why he locked the door so she couldn’t join him in the bathroom. It was another secret he’d guarded for three months.
He reached behind him to drag on the shirt that had fallen off his shoulder. To cover the scars.
She grasped his wrist, felt the warm blood pulsing through him, and her heart broke inside for the boy he’d been. ‘Don’t hide them from me, Dominic, you don’t need to,’ she whispered, naked, vulnerable, but unafraid.
She’d had no idea his father had been such a monster, but how could she not have known, when all the signs had always been there?
‘Your back... The scars...’ She choked the words out and saw the muscle in his cheek flex as he looked away. ‘Did Pierre do that?’
His eyes darkened, his expression becoming strained and tense.
‘I’m so sorry.’ She allowed all the compassion she felt for that boy to show in her face.
‘Why are you sorry? You didn’t do it,’ he said, his voice clipped and wary. ‘It was a long time ago and I deserved it.’
‘Dominic, how can you possibly believe that?’
* * *
Dominic pressed his thumb to her lips. He didn’t want to talk about that time in his life, or that night. Why the heck did she think he’d gone to so much trouble to stop her seeing the scars? But he hated seeing the sheen of moisture in her eyes, the compassion he didn’t deserve.
Somehow, she had sneaked under his skin. Made him care when he didn’t want to care. Made him want more than he should. And more than he would ever be able to reciprocate.
She was so young and vulnerable, so honest and open, so brave and strong, but she had no idea who he really was. He had hoped to keep this from her, had clung to the delusion that if she never discovered the truth, they could end their marriage with dignity. But this relationship had never played out on the terms he’d tried to insist upon. He’d become captivated, enchanted by her and invested in a future he had no right to expect.
And by trying to protect her he’d only hurt her more.
‘I’m not that screwed-up kid any more, and my father has been dead for a long time,’ he said, determined to take that misty look out of her eyes.
‘I know, but why did you hide...?’
‘Shh, Alison.’ He stroked his thumb across her lips—wishing he could kiss her into silence. But knowing he had to stop being a coward, and tell her the truth.
She blinked, those amber eyes glossy with tears. ‘Did you get those scars that night? Because you were protecting my mother?’
‘No.’ If only that were true. ‘She was protecting me, that’s why he hit her, why he threw you both out. I snapped, sick of the insults. I thought I could best him, thought I could finally make him pay for what he’d done to my mother, by abandoning her and me. But I was wrong. I was a stupid child, hyped up on my own bitterness and resentment. She found him using his belt on me and she tried to stop him.’
‘Oh, Dominic...’ Her eyes widened, the compassion so fierce, he had to fist his fingers to stop from taking what he wanted from her. ‘I’m so sorry...’
‘You misunderstand me, Alison. I was young and foolish and full of bravado and I was spoiling for a fight with him. And you and your mother paid the price.’
‘You can’t blame yourself for your father’s violence, surely you must see that,’ she said. ‘You didn’t do anything wrong.’
