Page 59 of Dangerous Games (Tempting SEALs 2)

"I hate it when you lie to me," she said, anger thickening her voice as he stared back at her in surprise. "You know, Clint, I overhead Reno and Dad talking one night, a few months before Mom and Dad were killed."

He flinched. "Yeah?" He smirked as he lifted the beer again.

Thankfully she gave him time to fortify himself before she continued.

"Reno thought your father was beating you before he died. Was he?"

Clint stared back at her silently. He hadn't known Reno had suspected. He had thought he kept it hidden so well.

"Every time your father came home and caught your mother out, you would stay 'sick' for days. He was beating you, wasn't he?"

Clint kept his expression bland, his face relaxed. He didn't grit his teeth; he didn't let the fury claw at his guts. He couldn't. Not in front of Morganna.

"Oh God...." Her voice sent a chill up his spine, but her eyes broke his heart. They filled with pain, with tears.

"Don't you fucking cry," he suddenly snarled desperately. "You cry and by God I'm putting you on a plane straight to Hawaii. You can crash Reno's fucking honeymoon with my damned blessings."

It broke him, those tears. Morganna couldn't cry. And by God, he would not let her cry over him.

"He was beating you." Clint watched her fight for control. "That's why you would spend days in bed. Raven would worry herself sick because you never seemed to run a fever, but you didn't want to move."

He couldn't move. There were times he wondered if the old man had broken bones. Raven, thank God, had been too young to realize exactly what was going on, and Clint's father had always made certain she wasn't home when the beatings took place, and the belt marks were never higher than his shoulders or lower than his hips, so she had never seen them. As young as his little sister had been, she had no idea the hell her teenage brother was enduring at the time. And he wouldn't have had it any other way. He was older by ten years, and at that age he had always feared his father would strike out at the delicate sprite Raven had been if Clint hadn't been there to take his rage out on.

"I couldn't figure it out." Morganna shook her head slowly, her face pale, her eyes like storm clouds, swirling furiously as she stared back at him. "Raven would come to my house when they started fighting, but you stayed. Why? Why didn't you come to Dad?"

"At what cost?" He set the beer on the table before crossing his arms over his chest and staring back at her. He let the ice that filled him each time he thought of the beatings reflect on his face. "He was Rory's commander, Morganna. What would your father have done?"

/> "He was beating you," she cried furiously. "Dad wouldn't have stood for it."

"He didn't have a choice. And I survived it."

"Did you?" The bitter mockery in her voice sliced across the shield he used to hold back his own rage. "Did you survive it, Clint? You're thirty-five years old. You aren't married, you have no children. You have nothing but an apartment that doesn't even belong to you. You push Raven as far from you as you can, and you screw women you don't even like. What does that say for you?"

"I like you," he pointed out calmly.

He could control this, he assured himself. She would run out of steam soon. He knew Morganna; she blew up like a mini-volcano, then settled down. As long as she didn't cry, he could get through it without losing his mind.

"You love me." He flinched at her declaration, watching warily as she moved closer. "You've always loved me," she said. "I bet I know when you got that vasectomy. Let me guess, Clint, the week after I turned twenty. After you walked in on me in the shower while you were visiting."

He had stood shell-shocked, staring at her wet body, hunger eating him alive. Furious, burning lust had torn through him, and he knew he had nearly lost the battle. And if he had, he wouldn't have stopped. He would have pushed her against the wall of the shower and fucked her until he spilled himself inside her.

No condom. He always knew that he would never be able to bear a condom between his flesh and hers.

"Let it go, Morganna."

"Let it go?" she cried out, incredulous.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"You loved me and you walked away from me. You did something to ensure you were always, always alone and you ran from me every chance you had. Admit it."

"I told you years ago you were chasing rainbows," he yelled back, his control snapping. "Damn you, Morganna, if I wanted you that bad, don't you think I would have taken you?"

She stepped back, almost stumbling.

He raked his fingers through his hair as he glared into her face. "God, I didn't mean that," he finally whispered wearily. "Don't cry, Morganna. I won't make it if you cry."

He moved to her, pulled to her by the pain blazing in her expression, the tears filling her beautiful eyes.

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