Page 52 of Desperate Vows

That was the most vile, disgusting thing I’d ever heard. It ranked up there, with Marco forcing himself on his niece. It made me sick to even think about it.

The way she was sitting with her body pressed against mine made it difficult to maintain my composure, and I wanted to. She’d just trusted me with some of the deepest, darkest things she’d experienced. I wasn’t touching her like that right now. That didn’t mean it wasn’t incredibly difficult, especially when she was saying things like I was hers.

“I’m yours, huh?”

Her breath hit my neck. “Yes. You’re mine.” It was almost a growl. Possessiveness was a potent aphrodisiac.

“You’re doing things to me that I’m not sure you’re aware of, and I’m trying to maintain my willpower.”

She leaned back, and her wide eyes confirmed my theory. “I’m sorry.”

Man, she was hot. How could she think she was a cheap imitation of her beauty queen mom? “You’re beautiful.”

An eyebrow reached her hairline. “I’m a mess. I know my eyes are puffy, and my nose is red. Your shirt…” She groaned and covered her face with her hands.

I pulled her hands from her face and forced her to look at me. “You’re beautiful.”

“I think you’re required to say that now that you’re married to me.”

Shaking my head, I replied, “Then explain why I thought that the moment I saw you.”

Her little mouth dropped open. “You did?”

My fingers found her hair and began combing through it. “I did. You were different. You were fine china in a dollar store.”

Pink bloomed on her cheeks and spread out over her face. “I don’t know about that.”

“I do.”

I brought my hand to her face, brushed my thumb across her rosy cheek, and kissed her nose. “I’m sorry you went through all that alone. Thank you for telling me. I know it was probably hard since I didn’t make it easy.”

Her hand slid over the top of mine. “I thought if I never talked about it, it’d go away one day, but it never did. It just sat there like a horrible tumor, but I feel lighter than I have since it happened.”

“Did you ever see a counselor?”

“No.” Her eyes got this faraway look. “Marco got done with me, left the room, and I laid there on the floor with a blindfold on until one of the maintenance workers found me. I was too afraid to move.”

Sliding my arms around her, I crushed her to me. Oh yeah, I was killing Franklin. I would have killed Marco, too, but I didn’t think Gabriele would let me.

Once I had Franklin, I was killing him slowly, one body part at a time. I would have asked Claire if she wanted a shot, but she’d been through enough with that man. I also didn’t want that on her soul or her conscience. I wouldn’t allow her light to be dimmed.

We sat in silence for a while. I had enough rage to fuel Tokyo, and she was remembering things that a woman shouldn’t have to remember.

“I felt so dirty,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “That night, when I got home, Mom didn’t understand what was wrong. Franklin told me if I uttered a word to her, he’d kill her.” She inhaled, and her body trembled as she exhaled. “He told her the same thing. He said he wanted us to both suffer. We did. Silently and alone.”

The rage built further. Claire was innocent. How could he punish her for things her mom did?

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” I rubbed her back as my shirt grew damp. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m ruining your shirt even more.”

“I’ve recently come into a boatload of money; I’ll buy another one.”

That got a tiny laugh out of her. “Lucas?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

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