LUC GRABBED HER forearms and held her in front of him, stunned—no, furious this horrible thing had happened to her. Rape. It was an ugly word depicting an abhorrent act. “When?”
“Years ago,” she said.
“How many years?” he persisted.
She pinched her eyes shut and held her breath for several counts he was sure. “Seven.”
“Seven?” The same year...as the last World Cup. Around the same time as his and Julian’s accident. “Where did this happen, Caprice? How?”
“What difference does it make?”
“Tell me,” he demanded.
Tears stung her eyes and she tried to wrench free, but he wasn’t deterred, holding her close. “If you must know, it was a date gone horribly wrong at the World Cup. He was convinced I’d agreed to go out with him for sex, and turned deaf ears when I told him no. The next thing I knew he dragged me into an equipment storeroom and took what he wanted.”
“You should have told me.”
A reddish stain streaked up her neck and dotted her checks. “I couldn’t come to you. You’d rejected me earlier that night.”
He banged a fist on the door, furious he’d played a part in her turning to another and bitten with guilt that she’d thought her only recourse to take was to run away. “Did you at least summon the authorities?”
“And tell them what? Do you think they would believe me or assume I’d simply drank too much and changed my mind about having a quickie because I assure you that is exactly what he would have claimed,” she said, her body trembling and her teary eyes stark with fear.
“So you just gave up?” he asked, ravenous for revenge and sickening fury eating at his insides.
“I was shamed beyond belief. And so terrified he’d come back and do it again,” she said, tears streaming down her face, shoulders slumping. “That’s why I left that night without saying a word to anyone.”
“Mio Dio!” He stalked the perimeter of his office, furious this happened to her, disgusted that her attacker had never been brought to justice. That was something he intended to change. “Who the hell is he?”
“Why do you care? You dismissed me that night, wanting nothing more to do with me,” she snapped back.
He slashed a hand through the air and swore again. “I turned you away because of that kiss. You touched something in me that I refused to explore further. My life was in such a turmoil then.”
She blinked, eyes bright with moisture that he wanted to wipe away. Wipe away all her hurts, but he couldn’t. “I wish I would have known that then. Wish I wouldn’t have attempted to prove I was desirable to a man.”
“As do I.” He drove his fingers through his hair and swore, feeling the weight of guilt bear down on him again. “We can’t change the past, but we can learn from it.”
“A saying my father repeated often,” she said, shaking her head, wide gaze lifting to his again. “I certainly learned the hard way about blindly trusting a man.”
He took her cold hands in his, hating the shiver that coursed through her, hating her attacker more with each breath. “Bella, tell me his name. Let me settle this for you.”