Page 61 of Redemption

He manages a halfhearted smile. “Do you promise not to kill them if I tell you?”

It’s not funny, but I return his smile, my lips twisting with sorrow for the abused child he used to be.

“I promise,” I vow needlessly. His family is in no danger from me, no matter how awful they are. I hope to never meet them.

“They didn’t beat me, if that’s what you’re asking,” he says, tone light.

“That is what I’m asking,” I confirm. “So, what did they do to you, Dane?”

His eyes focus on something beyond me. “It was the opposite of what you experienced. Your father belted you, and your mother punished you. They controlled you with physical and verbal violence.”

“What’s the opposite of that?” I press.

“Complete indifference. Duty and expectation. Raising me like I was nothing more than an extension of their own vanity. Everything for appearances, nothing real. Nothing raw.”

“No emotions,” I surmise.

He sneers. “What good are emotions if there’s no one there to bear witness to them? Why bother with the theatrics when you’re alone? Why suffer through them when they’re of no consequence?”

My heart bleeds for him. For years, I’ve felt so alone.

His damage matches mine, even if it shaped him differently.

Suddenly, he pushes away from the wall and closes the distance between us. He takes my hands in his, but he doesn’t force me closer.

“Youseeme, Abigail. Ever since the night we first met. You make me feel things I never thought possible. No one has ever given me that gift. I don’t think anyone else can. There’s only you. You’re all that matters to me.”

Longing floods my chest in a surging wave that’s strong enough to make my healed ribs ache. My head tips back, and for the first time in weeks, I allow myself to truly breathe in his salt-kissed cedarwood scent. Comfort blankets me, even as my body heats in response to the scent memory.

Before the terrible night I stepped into the powder blue house, this was all I wanted: Dane’s arms enfolding me, keeping me safe and giving me more pleasure than I imagined possible.

I still want that. I still want him.

Not the monster who kidnapped me.

Not even the man I thought I loved back in Charleston.

Butthisman: the real Dane.

Nothing about him is a lie. He’s raw and vulnerable. He can’t live without me.

“What are you thinking?” he asks me again. He’s staring at me so intently that I shiver like his gaze is a palpable caress on my soul.

“I don’t want to think anymore.”

It’s foolish, reckless. But I cup his beautiful face in both hands and draw him toward me for a fierce kiss. I don’t stop to consider what this means. What the consequences may be.

I melt into him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders to pull him even closer.

He meets me with the hungry growl that makes my insides quiver with fear-edged delight. His sensual lips are so decadently soft on mine, worshipping the shape of my mouth. Tasting me with teasing flicks of his tongue, testing my welcome.

I open for him on a sigh, completely surrendering to my desire for him.

His tongue surges into my mouth, claiming me in deep, domineering strokes. I’m dizzy from his kiss, the passion we share.

How could any woman give this up? How can I walk away from such perfect chemistry?

He no longer allows me room to resist, and I don’t want to. His arms are iron around me, immovable but cradling my body with care. One hand grasps my nape in a firm grip, holding me in place so he can ravage my mouth.

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