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Mine Forever (Book 3: The Billionaire’s Obsession Trilogy)(11)

By:J.S. Scott


"I had stab wounds. Lots of them." His voice held a slightly teasing  note. He paused and asked in a more hesitant, gruff voice, "Are you  going to cry again if I tell you?"

Oh, good Lord. He's telling me about the most traumatic event of his  life and he's worried about whether or not it will make me cry?

"I'll try to contain myself. Tell me."

"I was in the hospital for a while. Lucky for me, Rose was a lousy  murderer. She managed to miss most of my vital organs and some of the  wounds were shallow. They had to do surgery and repair a few organs, but  I lived through it. As soon as I was well enough, Sam moved Mom and I  to Tampa." He breathed a long, masculine sigh.

"Were you scared?" She whispered against his neck, still visualizing a  young, frightened, injured Simon. Her arms tightened around his  shoulders, wishing she could have been there to comfort him.

"Honestly, I barely remember any of it." He shook his head slightly.  "Sam said Mom was a total wreck. The only thing I remember was being  ashamed when I was finally coherent. And sad because Rose was dead."

Her head jerked back abruptly in shock. Searching his eyes, confused, she asked, "Why? You didn't do anything wrong."

"I was duped because I was horny. I was thinking with the head below my  waist instead of the one above it. Rose coming on to me wasn't logical.  It didn't make any sense. I should have been suspicious. Christ! All she  had said to me in months was to go to hell. Should have known something  wasn't right. But I didn't think about anything but getting off." His  face was dark and tortured. "I was pissed at myself. I put my mom and  Sam through hell because I was stupid. I knew better. I grew up in the  neighborhood. I sure as hell knew how to watch my own back."

Her palm lifted to his face, stroking over his jaw, realizing that he  had been a man in a boy's body when he was injured, expecting himself to  make rational decisions even when his hormones were raging. Didn't he  realize, although he may have had the intelligence of an older man, his  body had still been young, his maturity still that of a sixteen-year-old  boy? "Simon...you were sixteen. Still a boy. You may have been a boy  genius, but you were still a teenager."

"Yeah, and I didn't grow up to be exactly...uh...normal." He caught her  hand that was roaming over the stubble on his face and brought it to his  mouth. He kissed her palm gently and entwined their fingers, resting  their conjoined hands over his heart.                       
       
           



       

"No, you didn't. You grew up to be extraordinary. You have reason not to  trust easily. What happened with Dr. Evans?" Sure, he needed to have  control, but given the circumstances surrounding the traumatic event,  she was willing to bet that anyone would have their demons from that  experience. She knew she would.

"He made me talk. I hated it, but I went every week to make my mom feel  better. After a while, it got easier. He helped me through my feelings  about Rose's death and about my father. But I never told him what really  happened. I couldn't. I couldn't tell anyone. Everyone assumed that  Rose came in through an unlocked door and stabbed me while I was  sleeping...and I just let them continue to think that. It seemed  easier." His body tensed. "It was a coward's way out."

"But there must have been signs at the scene. The condom and-"

"Apparently, Rose had some sort of feelings for me, some guilt. There  was no condom and my dick was in my pants. No one ever assumed that it  was anything but an attack on me while I was asleep. A revenge hit  against my father. You're the only person who knows. I couldn't even  tell Sam." His voice trailed off in a husky whisper.

Her heart ached for him, her soul needing to somehow comfort him.  Pulling her hand from his, she turned his face to hers, forcing him to  meet her eyes. "Listen to me. You were attacked when you were young and  vulnerable. You have no reason to feel guilty or ashamed. Not one bit of  it was your fault. I understand why you have trust issues. I understand  why you panicked the other night." She saw doubt in his eyes and it  pissed her off. "But know this...you survived and grew into a gorgeous,  sexy, brilliant, successful man in spite of the fact that you got a raw  deal when you were younger. You're the most incredible man I've ever  known. Do you understand me!?" Her statement was fierce and her eyes  were shooting fire. Damn it, he needed to get it through his thick head  that he was someone special.

His eyes grew warmer and his lips twitched. "Yeah. I got it. Can we go back to the sexy part?"

She rolled her eyes. Trust Simon to focus in on only the sex part of her statement.

"Is that the only part you heard?" she replied, exasperated.

"No. But it was the most interesting part." He grinned at her unashamedly.

Frustrated, she scooped up a handful of water and dropped it on his head. "I'm trying to explain something to you here."

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into his body, creating a  ripple in the tub that had water lapping against their skin in a gentle  caress. Eyes heated and intense, he speared her with a look that spoke  of possession, desire that ran much deeper than lust. "Do you want to  know what I understand?"

She shivered as his arms slid tightly around her body, anchoring her against him. Unable to speak, she nodded.

His voice low and raspy, he answered, "I understand that I have to be  luckiest bastard on the planet because you love me, you accept me. Hell,  I think you almost understand me-which is a fucking miracle because  sometimes I don't even understand myself. I don't really know how to  romance you like I should, but it isn't because I don't want to. I just  don't know how. I understand that before I met you I was living in a  very small world, and somehow you dragged me into the light, made me  look around and actually see things that I never saw before. I  understand that you make me a better man." He snaked a hand around her  neck and planted a fierce, possessive kiss on her lips. Pulling away  abruptly, he cupped her chin, his eyes molten and fierce. "Is that  enough understanding for you?"

Breathless, she peered at him with her heart in her eyes. Maybe he  hadn't repeated exactly what she had been trying to convey, but it was a  start. He was learning to be loved. Burying her face against his  shoulder, she murmured against his skin, "It's enough. For now."

"I need you, Kara. Don't leave me again." His voice hoarse, he rubbed his face against her hair.

He hadn't told her that he loved her, but he had bared his soul, shared  his secrets, made incredible leaps in sharing his emotions. And he had  done it for her. So yeah, for now, it was more than enough. "I'm not  going anywhere."

"Damn right you're not!" he growled.

She smiled, because even as he spoke the demanding words, he was rocking  her in his arms, holding her like a tender lover. He was wrong about  not knowing how to romance her. He showed her how much he cared in so  many little ways that were mind-boggling, seductive, and addictive. It  was like a missing piece of her soul had finally found her and clicked  into place, making her feel complete.                       
       
           



       

"Did you love her?" She knew she should drop the subject, but she wanted to know.

"Who?"

"Rose? Did you love her?"

"No." His low voice answered quickly and without hesitation. "I cared  about her as a friend and I had a gigantic crush on her. But I didn't  love her. I didn't want her to die. The sad part of the whole thing is  that she died for nothing. A few days after she killed herself the whole  organization was brought down by the authorities. The boss and everyone  associated with the cartel are going to rot in jail."

She could hear the sincerity, the acceptance of the whole situation in  his voice. He wasn't angry, wasn't bitter. "Good therapist?"

"Yeah. Dr. Evans was the best. We still have dinner occasionally. I  think he's still trying to figure me out." He laughed with genuine  humor.

She smirked against his shoulder. "You're a fascinating subject."

"Are you saying that I'm odd?" he growled against her neck.

"Hmmm...I'm not sure." She slid away from him and stood, hating to leave  the circle of his arms, but dying for something to drink. She'd been in  the steamy room for quite some time and she was parched. Unable to  resist looking back at him as she climbed the steps, her hungry eyes  roamed his muscular body and handsome face. "I think I need to study you  a bit more before I come to any conclusions."