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Each question sliced deep, ripping toward that dark, bitter place, aplace he didn't dare touch. “You don't know anything about it, Shayne,” His tone was too low, too harsh. Too close to the edge. She planned to leave him. He had to get her to stop before he did or said something he'd regret, before he drove her away. He forced a deadly note in his voice. “Be smart. Drop it. Now.”
“Was it longer than a year? Or did those twelve months pretty much cover it?”
“Did you hear? Stop!”
Her dark eyes flashed with a contradictory mixture of velvety softness and sharp reprimand, as though her emotions were at war with her reason. “You gave up, didn’t you?”
For an instant he didn’t move. Adistant roaring filled his head, preluding the coming of an anger so deep and so old and so relentless, it drowned out every other feeling or consideration. He exploded from the bed, the bells on her mask startled into a frantic jumble of sound. Rational thought vanished, the thin veneer of civilization stripped away and replaced with sheer animal rage. With a guttural shout, he snatched the tray from the bed and threw it with every ounce of strength toward the nearest wall. Dishes shattered.
He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror over the dresser and flinched, seeing a man reduced to his most primitive state. Vivid color scored his cheekbones, the wild glitter in his eyes fired by deadly intent. Even the atmosphere in the room had changed, burning with the scent of fury, as though ancient pheromones had been released, igniting the urge to attack. He sucked air into his lungs, desperate to regain his control, shaking with the effort.
“I searched, damn you!” The raw words howled from a bottomless well of pain. “He bought off my private investigators. Isent you letters. You never answered. Where were you, Shayne? Why didn’t you come to me?”
“I came.” She approached, adorable, foolish woman, braving his wrath with gentle hands and soothing words. “At least, Itried to.”
The coldness returned, sweeping over him and he welcomed it. Embraced it. Clung to it. It would protect him from feelings he refused to acknowledge. “What stopped you, Shayne?” He turned on her like a wounded animal, intent on inflicting as much damage as possible before giving in to his own agony. “What possible excuse could you have?”
“I...” Sadness shadowed her expression. “I had a small accident.”
He discovered in that moment he had a heart and this woman controlled its every beat “An accident,” he repeated stupidly. An accident. The accident.
He shook his head. No. Not that. Not the car wreck that had scarred that sweet, beautiful body. Not while she’d been coming to him. Not the one she’d told Mojo about, all the while shooting him quick, nervous glances, as though half-expecting him to reject her because of a few scars.
“I did that to you?” he whispered. “Your scars were my fault?”
“No!” She was in his arms, wrapping him in warmth. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was a freak storm and a small rock slide on a bad corner. Ilost control of the car.”
“Rafe. He was trying to stop you, wasn’t he?”
“He wasn’t chasing me, if that’s what you were thinking. He’d discovered what I’d planned and attempted to intercept me at the airport. Iwas lucky, Chaz. If he hadn’t come down the mountain when he had—”
“Don’t!”
She broke off, pulling back ever so slightly. “You’re shaking!”
“You’re damned right I am.” In one swift movement, he yanked her knit shirt over her head and tossed it aside. “And in a minute, you will be, too.”
Her bra came next, neatly removed with a flick of his fingers. As much as he wanted to fill his hands with her softness, he had more important duties to take care of first. Like getting her naked and on the bed where he could feast on her at his leisure. Unfastening her slacks, he worked his thumbs into the waistband and tugged everything not skin off herlegs.
In less than thirty seconds, he had her exactly as he wanted her, the way he’d fantasized since that first passionate encounter before their wedding. Hell, if he were honest, he’d admit he’d clung to the desperate memory for nine long years. Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her to thebed.
He set her down, her body barely denting the mattress. She stared up at him without a hint of shyness and he found he appreciated that calm, direct gaze, relieved her scars hadn’t stolen that from her, hadn’t filled her with self-loathing or embarrassment.
The instant his clothes hit the floor, he joined her on the bed. The kerosene lamp filled the room with shadows, but now that he knew what to look for, he found the network of scars with ease. Before this night ended, he’d kiss the full length of each and every one. They were a testament to his history with Shayne, to what they’d gone through to finally come together again. They were a silvery road map that had led to this moment intime.
“Chaz...” Her voice slipped through the dusk, filling him with longing.
How he wished he could love her as she deserved. That the deadness inside him would burgeon with new life. That the heart he’d just discovered was capable of more than shoving ice-cold blood through his veins. “I’m here, sweet. And you’re safe. Nothing will hurt you, Ipromise.”
Except him, the knowledge taunted.
Shayne’s gaze followed the gentle fingers of light that traced across the impressive width of her husband’s shoulders, chasing the shadows deep into the crevices of his work-hardened muscles.
She couldn’t see all of him. Darkness ate into their circle of privacy, concealing him from the waist down. But the lamp-light fell full on his face, turning his eyes to an impossible shade of blue. It also highlighted the sharply angled cheekbones and the sun-weathered creases that told of a man who’d ridden a long, hardroad.
He returned her look in full, taking his time about it. Then he clasped her wrists in one hand and lifted them over her head, anchoring them there while he studied her even more closely. Without a word, he dipped toward her, finding the jagged line that ran from wrist to the tender inner curve of her upper arm. She shuddered at the first touch of his mouth, shivering helplessly beneath each rasping lap of his tongue. Inch by torturous inch, he followed the scar until he reached the end. Only it wasn’t theend.
He rolled her onto her side, her hands still shackled above her, allowing the light to fall on all of the other scars, ones only her doctors had ever seen. And then he kissed them one by one, athousand kisses of tenderness.
