Behind the Lens (Behind the Lives) Read Online Free PDF Page B

focusing on his mouth. Her pupils dilated, her lust
unmistakable.
    Taken
aback, Dante stood up quickly, not expecting her reaction—nor his. She was
battered and bruised, yet he was getting turned-on, but not from her damaged
state, because for those few seconds her bruises had faded and all he saw was
the woman he’d fallen in love with—was still in love with, that revelation
hitting him hard. He’d thought he was over her, especially with Beth now in his
life, someone who he also loved, but one look at Kara and his heart broke all
over again.
    “You
should go to the police,” he finally said, feeling awkward standing in front of
her, fidgeting like an addict.
    She
shook her head. “No, my husband is too good a lawyer; he’ll make me out as the
villain.”
    “Unless
he’s covered in bruises, I don’t think so.”
    “It
doesn’t matter, plus I brought this upon myself.”
    Anger
seared through him. “Like hell you did! No man should raise a hand to a woman.”
    “I
hit him too.”
    “I
don’t care, and he pro’bly deserved it.”
    Her
lip pulled up. “My knight in shining leather.”
    He
shoved his hands into his pockets, not knowing what to say to that.
    She
patted the cushion next to her. “Sit with me.”
    Dante
remained where he was. “Why did he hit you?” he asked, saying the first thing
that came to mind, because there was no way he was getting close to her again.
    “Because
I told him I should’ve married you.”
    Dante’s
mouth went dry. “ Š to ?”he croaked out, the Croatian word for what slipping through.
    “You
heard me,” she said, her gaze unflinching.
    Dante
opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He’d dreamt of this moment for so long,
played it over and over again in his mind’s eye, where Kara would return to
him, saying she’d made a mistake, but it had just been a fantasy, because he
never thought it would actually happen, especially after the cruel names she’d
called him before walking out.
    Kara
brushed her soft curls aside. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
    He
frowned. “What do ya expect me to say? I haven’t seen you in three years, yet
you walk in here telling me we should’ve gotten married, like that last day
between us never happened?”
    “That
was one day out of a year and a half of us being together, and one day I wish I
could take back.”
    “Why?
Unless you missed your favourite whipping boy.”
    “I
understand you’re upset, and I’m sorry for that, but if you would allow me, I
would very much like to make things up to you.”
    He
sniffed. “You have a nerve saying that.”
    “Why?”
    “Cos
you can’t take back what you said, what you did. You called me a whore and
walked out on me like I wuzn’t worth your time, like our relationship meant
nuthin’.”
    “I
called you a prostitutka— ”
    “It’s
the same thing!”
    “You
didn’t let me finish. I meant to say, I called you a prostitutka out of
anger, not because you were one, but because I was in pain. I knew my time with
you was coming to an end, so I lashed out at the one person who didn’t deserve
it.”
    “What
are you on about?” Dante said, totally confused, her words not making sense.
    “You’re
a beautiful and sensuous man, Dante; you weren’t made for one woman, but many,
even though I wish you were mine alone, because you’re everything I want in a
man.”
    “You’re
sounding like you think I cheated. I told ja then and I’m telling ya now, I never
did. All I wanted wuz you.”
    She
smiled. “You mean that?”
    “I
wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”
    She
dropped her gaze for a moment, then looked back up at him, her soulful eyes
reaching inside of him and twisting his gut. “Please forgive me,” she said.
    He
shifted about, both wanting and not wanting to, then finally breathed out,
realising that this wasn’t right, that he shouldn’t be arguing with her when
she had been viciously beaten. “No, I’m the one who should apologise,