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“So no one would find me.”
“Your dad spent millions of dollars trying to find you.”
She stiffened and squeezed her eyes shut. “Are you going to tell him where I am?”
“Not if you don’t want me to.”
“Why?”
“Because I promised to keep your secret.” He leaned back and smiled at her. “I trust you with mine.”
Her jaw trembled as he stroked her cheek.
“Why’d you run away?
How could she answer that question? How could she explain everything Rafael and her father had done to her? At least her father had been gentle, at least at first. Not like Rafael. But both men had played their part in her destruction.
Mark searched her eyes and then sucked in a sharp breath. “You were studying under Rafael Alvarez, weren’t you?”
She nodded.
“He has a reputation of being an incredibly demanding teacher...” He stared over her head. He looked back down at her, searching her eyes again. “Was he abusive?”
She nodded and he closed his eyes and exhaled, pulling her close. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
She gave a bitter laugh. “I tried to tell my father once. He didn’t care.”
“Your dad didn’t do anything about it?”
She shook her head, tears falling down her cheeks. Only later did she come to understand why her dad didn’t care.
“Oh, Emma...” Mark held her tightly against him, rocking her and stroking her hair as she cried.
Her mind went back to the night Geoffrey offered her the position in Section One. He’d said he didn’t believe that what Rafael had done could have been an accident.
Had all those “accidents” been part of a bigger plan between her father and Rafael?
She shivered as she remembered that horrible night when things went from bad to worse. Rafael had owned her completely by then, and he made her do the worst thing she could imagine, at least at that point in her life.
But she quickly learned there was no limit to Rafael’s—or her father’s—depravity.
Thirty
Mark clenchedhis jaw as he envisioned a forty-year-old Rafael Alvarez yelling and—dare he imagine it—hitting a young girl like Emily. How could anyone be so cruel to such a sweet, talented girl? He knew Rafael. He knew Emily’s—Emma’s—father.
Standing here, holding her... How could her father have let that happen?
Hell, he’d played with Rafael many times. He’d admired him since he was a teenager.
Now the thought made him sick.
He supposed Emma might have been lying, but why would she? What would she gain? She’d been trying to keep her distance from him. Or she had been. Until now.
It was both wonderful and horrible to have her in his arms. Horrible because of why. Wonderful, because, if he were honest, he’d wanted to ever since he’d seen her at the Juilliard audition, years ago. Someone who could understand music like he did, something few people were capable of. He’d wanted to ask her out that day, but she had been sixteen at the time, too young to be appropriate. Then she’d disappeared.
“Where did you go?” he asked, half-afraid to hear her answer. “When you left?”
She shuddered. “Nowhere good.”
