Paradise Revival Part 7

with her teeth. G.o.d, the woman really needed to talk to someone.

"Come over here. Sit by me. I won't touch you unless you ask me to. You have all the control, Morgan. Please. Trust me."

Uncertainty crossed her face, then she lifted her chin and threw back her shoulders

before swimming quickly toward him.

Having won some internal battle with herself, she stood in front of him, the water

barely covering her voluptuous b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Despite the fact he itched to reach out for the succulent globes and caress them, he didn't move so much as a muscle.

"What happened to you?" he asked again.

She didn't answer.

"Morgan, I know I've given you no reason to trust me, but have you ever opened up

to anyone about where you got those scars?"

"No."

"Then tell me. Take a chance and trust me. I won't print what you tell me. You need

to talk to someone."

"Why?" Her eyes still held a hooded wariness that stabbed at his heart. She was like

a cornered rabbit and he was filled with the desire to strangle the sonofab.i.t.c.h who'd hurt her. "It'll help. You carry a fear around with you that closes you off. Do you have any friends on this island you can talk to?" "No." "Then talk to me." Trust me. Please, I know I don't deserve it, but trust me. "I was beaten," she answered quietly. She avoided eye contact and offered a nonchalant shrug.

"Obviously. By whom?"

"My ex-husband."

Tony fought to keep his own breathing under control as a raging desire to kill the man burned within him. "Once?"

She shook her head.

"How often?"

"Frequently."

He closed his eyes for a second, unable to fathom what kind of pain she'd gone

through. When he opened them again, she was looking at him.

"How long were you married?"

"Five years."

"And did he beat you from the beginning?"

Her lips curved into a cynical smile. "No, he didn't start right away. He waited until

after the honeymoon."

Rotten, f.u.c.king, no good sonofab.i.t.c.h. Tony filed a mental note to somehow,

someway, find out who her husband was and make sure he paid, one way or another.

"How did it happen? Didn't you have any signs that he was an abuser?"

"No. He was very sweet to me from the moment we met. The monster didn't show

his claws until after the honeymoon."

She spoke as if she were in a trance, turning her gaze somewhere out in the distance

toward the ocean. And her body no longer s.h.i.+vered. Instead she stood ramrod straight, her expression cold. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and pull her against him. Then kiss her and make love to her until he melted the ice.

"Why didn't you tell someone?"

"I tried. My parents refused to believe that someone of his background could

possibly hurt me. They told me I was being childish and immature, and that whatever had happened needed to stay private between me and my husband."

"You're from a prominent family?"

She nodded, but he'd already surmised that. "I met him at my debutante ball. He was the perfect catch. All the girls wanted him."

"But you got him."

She smirked. "Of course. I was young, naive and believed in love at first sight. I was also aggressive back then, and went after what I wanted. And I wanted him."

"How old were you when you married?"

"Nineteen."

Jesus. Barely out of her childhood and thrust into the arms of Satan.

"Did he abuse you s.e.xually?" Tony couldn't stop the questions from pouring out.

Suddenly he needed-had to know everything about her. About that b.a.s.t.a.r.d. About

what he'd done.

Now that she'd opened the floodgates, Morgan seemed to want to talk about it. But she'd started to s.h.i.+ver again. Before she could answer his last question, he suggested they step out of the pool and dry off.

He handed her a towel and her robe, careful not to touch her. He'd made a promise, and no matter how much he wanted to hold her in his lap and soothe away her pain, he wouldn't.

Not unless she asked.

Tony opened a bottle of wine and poured a gla.s.s for both of them. Morgan drank hers down quickly, seemingly unaware of what she'd swallowed.

She hadn't answered his question about s.e.xual abuse, and he figured he'd let the

wine calm her. And if she didn't want to talk about it, he wouldn't press her. Not

tonight, anyway.

"I used to have fantasies," she said, startling him. She'd been silent for a while and he figured she didn't want to talk anymore tonight.

"What kind of fantasies?"

A hint of a smile crossed her face. "s.e.xual. 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-s.e.xuality-Morgan he knew existed under her cool

exterior. Fire and pa.s.sion 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 s.e.x, the images running through his mind of her spread-eagled and tied to the bed, whet his s.e.xual appet.i.te like no other woman before.

"I haven't had s.e.x since I left him."