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list? Everything.”
    She tugged his hair
playfully. “Shut up. I’m serious.”
    “So am I.” He decided to go
out on a limb and tell her the truth. “You’re obviously passionate about dance,
and I admire people who pursue their passion.”
    She frowned. “How do you know
dance is my passion?”
    He was almost embarrassed to
admit this, but he’d come this far, he might as well go all the way. “I watch
you dance sometimes.” He laughed when she inched back on the seat. “I don’t
mean that I’ve had you under surveillance or anything like that. I’d be at
Mavis’s diner, grabbing lunch or a coffee, and I’d see you through the window.
You looked so absorbed, so beautiful.” He saw a different side of her when she
danced, a softer, gentler side, and he couldn’t help but be intrigued. “I
couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”
    She lowered her head to hide
her smile. “Okay, what else do you like about me?”
    She wasn’t going to make this
easy for him. Nor should she; paybacks were a bitch. “You were brave enough to
stand up to me.”
    “Right, like I had a choice.
You came at me like you thought I was a threat to the town at large.”
    He smiled. He loved her
bravado, but he was an expert at reading people and he knew her courage was all
for show. “You’re afraid of me,” he whispered. “You ready to tell me why?”
    She closed her eyes and shook
her head.
    At least she wasn’t denying
it was true. He didn’t tolerate liars, even when they presented an irresistible
package. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s okay. You don’t have
to tell me tonight, but I hope you will someday.”
    She opened her eyes to look
at him. “This thing between us scares me. I’m not used to letting my guard down
with people, especially men.”
    “Someone hurt you once.
You’ve never gotten over it.” It wasn’t a question, just a statement of fact.
    She looped her arms around
his neck and buried her face in his chest.
    “Maybe you’ll let me help you
get over it.”
    She shook her head and
whispered, “I’ll never get over it, Tucker. What he did to me, it’s a part of
who I am now.”
    “What do you mean?”
    She looked up at him and her
eyes looked alarmingly vacant. “I carry the scars with me every day to remind
me.”
    He could feel his heart
pounding in his chest. He’d seen that blank stare in the line of duty too many
times not to recognize it, but never on the face of someone he cared about it.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
    She looked around to see if
anyone was walking down the street, but the windows were fogged up, giving them
a curtain of privacy from the outside world. She flicked the switch for the
interior light and bathed the vehicle in light.
    He watched her reach for the
hem of her tank top. He had no idea what she was about to show him, but he knew
it wasn’t going to be good.
    She pulled her top off and
fisted it in her hands as she bit her trembling lip in an effort to still it.
“Hideous, aren’t they?”
    He tried to remain detached,
tried to see the raised scars as a cop and not as a man who cared about her,
but for the first time, he couldn’t turn his feelings off when he needed to.
The rage seeped into every pore of his body, rendering him speechless.
    She turned around to reveal
her back and they were there too, on her lower back, marring her perfect skin.
Knowing he had no outlet for his rage, he did the only thing he could think of
to ease her pain. He pressed a gentle kiss to one of the faded wounds running
the width of her back.
    A sob escaped her lips.
“Please don’t. They’re so horrible. I can’t bear to have anyone touch me…”
    He eased her back against his
chest as he ran his hands over the raised skin on her abdomen. He kissed her
neck, wanting her to know that he still thought she was beautiful and
desirable. “Please tell me that son of a bitch is in jail.”
    She closed her eyes and
leaned her back against his