Snowbound - Harlequin.com

224 SNOWBOUND
ing his nose and his eyes were watering. “John! I’m so
sorry. I didn’t mean…” She dragged in a deep breath.
“But…no. Love means trust. It means sharing. Making
yourself vulnerable to the other person. Have you ever
voluntarily told me one single really personal thing
about yourself?”
Goddamn. He squeezed the bridge of his nose and
prayed the blaze of pain would subside.
“Yes. I said I love you.”
“And I’m questioning whether you do.” She waited,
uncompromising. “What else?”
He sat up straight, too. “I told you how I feel about
this.” He touched his scar.
“No, you didn’t. You expressed the belief that
women found it unattractive. I trust you’re convinced
that I don’t?”
He nodded. “It’s…” He stopped, physically unable
to say the words.
She said them for him. “It’s a symbol, isn’t it? The
outward manifestation of…something. Something you
won’t tell me about.”
“Can’t.” He unclenched his jaw. “Is that what this
comes down to? I have to relive it for your benefit, or
you won’t believe I love you?”
She looked sad. “No. If it was just the one incident,
I could understand better. But you don’t talk about
anything.”
Incident? He hardly heard the rest of what she said.
The horrific splinter of a moment in time that had killed
six teenage boys and maimed four others and him was
an incident?