Page 42 of Dion

"That’sright, you have. Tell me something - what are you afraid of?"

"Of failing."He didn’t pretend not to know what she was talking about. "Ofmaking another bad decision."

"You think beingwith me might turn out to be one?" She just managed to keep theanger out of her voice.

"I don't knowanything anymore and that's the truth." He turned his head tolook at her and felt his body heating up as he gazed at her. Her hairwas tangled and falling down over her shoulders. Her dark brown eyeswere wild with passion.

So, he hadn’tlost his touch and had been able to stop himself from hurting her.What if that part of him reared its ugly head at some point when theywere together?

She was pregnant andwould be getting bigger as the months progressed. What if, when shewas six months into the pregnancy, he felt the need to choke her? Putmarks all over her? What then? "I don't want to hurt you."

"You keep sayingthat and it hasn’t happened since we’ve been together."She pointed out reasonably.

"What if itdoes?" He persisted.

"Then we dealwith it. Just out of curiosity, how do you think you would hurt me?"

"I alreadyexplained-"

"Do it again."

He glared at herbefore hauling himself up against the pillows. "I don't enjoyrehashing the past."

"We’rejust talking here."

"It'shumiliating."

"I already knowmost of it."

"Then besatisfied with that."

"If we’reto progress-"

"What if I don'twant to?" He snapped, eyes flashing.

"Then that'sanother matter altogether. She really has her hooks in you."

His head whippedaround and she could see the anger and the frustration.

"Would you liketo leave?" He asked her coldly.

“Oh, Dion."She sighed out his name. "Are you by any chance trying to pushme out of your life?"

"I don't think Ican do this." He dragged his hands over his face. "I’mnot ready."

"I’m notgoing anywhere. Is that clear? I‘m not going to let you push meaway. I need a drink."

"You can’t-"

"Are you goingto stop me?" She gave him an icy look before sliding off the bedand climbing down the steps. He’d finally given her the tour ofthe place and she’d told him she was impressed.

It wasn’texactly a showpiece, it was far too homely to be classed as such, butwas impressive. He wisely refrained from saying anything else as shewalked over to the cabinet near the fireplace and selected a bottleof scotch. "Want one?"

"No, thanks. Iapologize for hurting your feelings."

"Is that whatyou did?" She mused, tossing back the finger of scotch andfeeling it burning a path through her stomach. Deciding againstanother, she walked over to the love seat across from the bed.

Picking up theblanket, she wrapped it around her as she stared at him. "You’reemotionally crippled and I should do the right thing and run in theopposite direction, but I’m stuck."

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