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decided.
    That realization had kept her from committing fully to Marco again. And wasn’t she right in thinking that in time he would have slipped further into the role of dominator, perhaps even going to the depths her father had sunk to? That she would relive the hell her mother had had throughout their marriage?
    Single was safer. Single was being free. So why was her body craving his possession again? Why was she so weak around Marco Vincienta?
    “I seriously doubt your sister needs a man dominating her,” she said and was instantly pinned in place with his fierce scowl.
    Her heart raced but she hiked her chin up, determined not to tremble over the past that still bound her, refusing to cringe at Marco’s command as she’d seen her mother do with her father countless times. Or worse, whimper when he physically abused her.
    “You are an expert on these matters because?”
    Delanie didn’t understand why on earth she had thought that the intervening years might have finally made him believe her. Still, he’d asked so she would answer.
    “My father was quick to rule with an iron hand or fist depending on his whim.” He’d used it liberally on her mother to gain Delanie’s compliance.
    A ripe curse exploded from him. “I told you never to compare me to David Tate!”
    “Then stop acting like him.”
    He frowned, brows drawn in a deep forbidding V over the classic slope of his nose. Time hung suspended between them, her heart supplying each tick of the seconds that raced past.
    His fingers bunched into fists at his sides and her stomach flipped over. Ease up a bit. Marco won’t hurt you. At least not that way. She knew it in her heart, her soul.
    “Are you saying Tate hit you?” he asked, his dark gaze probing hers.
    For an instant she almost thought he cared that she might have suffered physical abuse, though for her the emotional barbs scared her just as much. But she’d heard her father apologize for his deplorable behavior for too many years, and watched him break his promises.
    “No, he never hit me,” she said. “As I already told you, Father reserved his punishment for my mother.”
    “A lot can change in ten years.”
    That was an understatement considering she’d found herself trapped in an untenable situation. Since he hadn’t believed her then, why show concern now?
    She huffed out a breath, his curiosity annoying. Insulting even. It no longer mattered to her what he thought. She certainly didn’t owe him an explanation.
    His gaze narrowed, hardened. “Answer me.”
    Again with the demands. But avoiding the issue was more troubling that it was worth. Nothing could be gained by ignoring him.
    “A lot can remain exactly the same as well,” she said. “But to satisfy your curiosity, I stayed to ensure that my mother wasn’t abused. It was the only promise that my father never broke to me.”
    Marco clenched his teeth against her bare-faced lie. He knew she was lying. Had known ten years ago. But if she was so insistent on pursuing her lies, then he would see how far she would go with them.
    “What kept you there after her death?”
    “You still don’t get it, do you? My father did to me what he did to you. He gained control of my business and the only way I could get it back was to abide by his agreement. I was two months away from getting my company back from him when you launched your takeover.”
    She glared at the rich, powerful man who held all the cards and tried to forget there had been a time when she’d loved him with each breath she took. When she’d wanted to believe his every word. Wanted to trust him fully. A time when she wrestled between fear and desire.
    “Now I’m doing your bidding to gain title to what is mine,” she said.
    His gaze remained remote. “You’ll be amply compensated.”
    “I’ll hold you to the letter of the contract,” she said.
    He smiled, the gesture brief and calculating. “As will I, Miss Tate. Which is why we will stop at the villa first