“What were you fighting about when he burned you?”
“You can’t possibly want to hear the dirty details of—”
Actually, his interest surprised him. “Why not? I might as well know what we’re up against.”
She seemed to consider his words. “We were fighting about sex.”
Okay, so maybe he shouldn’t have asked. Not if he wanted to stop fantasizing. But a statement like that absolutely begged a response. “What about it?”
A gleam of defiance entered her eyes. “I wouldn’t let him tie me up. I couldn’t do it anymore. I hate it.”
The vehemence in her voice told him how much. It made him go cold and lethal inside to imagine Manuel forcing her. “Did he hurt you when he tied you up?” he asked softly.
She stared at the carpet. “Sometimes he showed…flashes of cruelty.”
The knots in his stomach didn’t ease at her tempered reply. “By…”
She shook her head, refusing to get specific. He knew he was probably better off not hearing the details—but he did need some kind of reassurance that she was okay despite what Manuel had done.
Moving to the couch, he took her hands. Her fingers felt slim and cool, and he immediately wanted to warm them. “So he liked feeling powerful?”
She looked at his thumb as he made a small circle around the burn on her wrist. “He liked knowing I couldn’t say no, that he had free rein to do anything, regardless of how I felt.”
“Bastard!”
At his curse, she glanced up. “He is a bastard. And I couldn’t stay with him any longer.”
It was little wonder. From the sound of it, Manuel was one sick son of a bitch. “Max told me his real name is Dominick.”
“It is.”
“And yours is…”
“Vanessa.”
“Vanessa,” he repeated.
“I’m sorry for dragging you into this,” she said with a frown. “It’s not fair to you. I know that.”
He wanted to lean forward and press his lips to hers, to taste her as he’d done before. But after what she’d just told him, he doubted she’d enjoy it. “Manuel’s mother must really be something,” he said.
“She is. One minute, she’s praising him, the next she’s belittling him. They have an odd love-hate relationship. Sometimes I wondered if he wasn’t striking out at her through me. In any case, his brothers don’t treat their wives much better. And—”
Impulsively he brushed his lips across her knuckles. “And?”
She seemed to lose her train of thought for a second as she watched. “Um…I trigger some reaction that frustrates and infuriates him. Because of my refusal to love him the way he wants me to, I guess.”
“He could control every other aspect of your life, but he couldn’t control that.”
“It became almost a game, to withhold the one thing he wanted most.”
The more she talked, the more protective he felt. Preston supposed he should quit while he was ahead—but he couldn’t. “How long has it been since you considered yourself in love with him?”
“Years. So you can see how that emotional distance might drive someone crazy.” She gave him a hesitant smile, her eyes once again watching his lips move over her fingers.
“It sounds to me as though he didn’t deserve your love.”
She shrugged. “Sometimes I wonder which came first. Did he feel me pulling away and grow panicked and grasping? Or did he start to smother me first?”
Preston didn’t care which it was. If she wanted to break things off with Manuel, she had the right to do so. “Why didn’t you leave him years ago?”
“I tried once.”
“What happened?”
“He came after me, and—well, let’s just say it made him even more paranoid. After that, it was almost impossible to get any freedom or money. And I had Max to think about.”
“You mean Dominick?”
“I mean Max,” she said. “We’ve left Vanessa and Dominick behind for good.”
“You don’t think of yourself as Vanessa anymore?”
“No. I don’t want to look back. If I can help it,” she added softly.
He forced himself to release her and was somewhat surprised when she let her hand linger on his leg. “How long do you figure you’ll have to run?”
Her smile was sad. “Who knows? Manuel’s not a man who accepts failure easily.”
“But you’ll be okay in the midwest, right?” He needed to believe there was an end in sight.
“Sure. As safe as anywhere.”
Her answer wasn’t too comforting. Stifling a grimace, he got up so he wouldn’t be tempted to touch her again. “Don’t you have any parents or siblings who can help you?”
“Only my mother and sister are left. They both live in Phoenix, but I can’t go to them.”
“Why not?”
“That’s where I went last time.”
“I see.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “And I suppose a restraining order wouldn’t work.”
“There isn’t a paper in the world with the power to stop Manuel. All he has to do is take Max and flee to Mexico, and there’s nothing the police can do.”
“Would he leave you here?”
“There’s no telling what he’d do to me. The woman who helped me leave just went missing. I tried to call her last night, but I couldn’t get hold of her or her sister. I’m hoping they’re still alive.”
Still alive? Preston blew out a long sigh. He’d heard enough for one morning. “We’ll get to Iowa and decide what to do from there, okay?”
“Okay,” she said.
“I’m going to see if I can grab some more sleep.” He started past her for the bedroom but she caught his wrist. When he looked down, he felt another surge of desire but fought it back.
“I owe you an apology,” she said.
“For what?”
“I…I should’ve told you about Max’s diabetes. I would have, but I was afraid you’d leave us. I’m sorry.”
“Forget it.” He couldn’t resist running a finger down the side of her face.
She closed her eyes, as if she welcomed his touch. But he knew better than to take it any further. Their lives were screwed up enough already.
Dropping his hand, he walked away.
EMMA HEARD THE DOOR close and covered her eyes. She’d wanted Preston to hold her, to pull her tired body into his arms, enfold her in his strength. Because she hadn’t been able to reach Rosa, she was more worried than ever. But it wasn’t just that. She kept imagining what it might be like to kiss him again now that she trusted him a little more.