“You were so damn young,” he says quietly, his eyes searching my face. “And you’d been abused. And my heart chose you. I felt it that first night, but I didn’t believe it, not until the feeling grew until it couldn’t be ignored. I couldn’t stay away. I could barely resist you at all, but I didn’t want to push you into something. Not when you’d just escaped a man who took and took. I didn’t want you to think that was all men were good for.”
