More Than Friends by Susan Mallery Page B

she remembered the other women talking about the men’s reactions. Some had turned into a one-man vigilante force, swearing to hunt down the rapist and punish him. Others had withdrawn slowly, day by day, until the relationship was little more than a fragile shell, shattered at the first sign of discord. Alec had been different. She’d told him about the rape, but it had occurred so long before they had met that he had no personal feelings save concern for her. There hadn’t been any macho posturing, little desire for revenge, no sense of violation. He had healed her with his easy smile and gentle touch.
    Regret joined the apprehension. Regret that she hadn’t been able to forget her past enough to enjoy the present and the potential future. Alec had seen that there was more holding her back than the rape. He’d known that she’d never recovered from loving and losing Chase. He hadn’t known the other man’s name, but had felt his presence in their lives. In the end, he’d asked her to choose. She couldn’t, in good conscience, deceive Alec any longer. She’d let him go.
    “I don’t want to hurt you,” Chase said, taking a step closer.
    She stiffened. “Then forget everything you heard today. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
    “How can you say that? I’ve treated you so badly since I’ve been back. Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you let me walk away all those years ago? How could you let me think you’d betrayed me? How could you let me think you didn’t care?”
    It was beginning, she thought. “I did care, but at the time I didn’t know what…” She sighed. “Do we have to talk about this? I’m fine now.”
    “Are you?” He took another step, stopping only inches from her. Then he cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to continue to hold his gaze. “I don’t believe that.”
    Alec hadn’t believed it, either. Oh, he’d known she’d recovered from the trauma, but he’d suspected there was another secret. Not as dark or as scary, but more powerful. The secret of loving and waiting for Chase.
    “Why didn’t you tell me?”
    His pain was her undoing. If he’d been angry or ashamed of her, she would have been able to tell him it was none of his business and send him on his way. His fingers felt warm against her skin. Calluses, earned through physical labor and time, rubbed against her cheek. His mouth, firm but tender, pulled into a straight line. Only that morning she’d tasted his desire, had feasted on passion long-denied. Now deep lines bracketed the straight lips. A frown drew dark eyebrows together. Stubble shadowed the hollows of his cheeks and outlined the strength of his jaw. This face, familiar and strange, all man, but retaining echoes of the boy, weakened her resolve.
    “I would have slain dragons for you,” he whispered. “Conquered the world.” He swallowed. “Sold my soul. You never gave me the chance.”
    She closed her eyes. A single tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. He brushed the moisture with his thumb. The gesture, one he’d performed so many times before, made her smile.
    “I wasn’t looking to be rescued,” she said. “I needed—”
    “What?”
    “A magical way to turn back time so it never happened in the first place. No one could do that. Not even you.”
    He swore violently under his breath. She flinched. He dropped his hand and swore again. “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t gotten drunk, I would have been able to drive you home. Then it would never have happened.”
    “That’s not what I meant.”
    He turned away and leaned against the doorframe, facing the tiny hallway. “It’s the truth.”
    “No.” She touched his arm; he shook her off. “Listen to me.” She moved to face him. “It
just happened
. It’s nobody’s fault. There’s no blame here. Not for you or me. I asked you to get the alcohol. You didn’t want to. You could have easily said no, but I knew you’d do anything for me.”
    He looked haunted. She knew how that