Private Scandals

listen.”
    “I do.” But she shifted away so that she could sit on her own. “Everyone on campus knew Jamie Thomas. He was a year ahead of me, and like most of the other women in college, I had a crush on him. So when he made a move in my direction at the beginning of my junior year, I was flattered and dazzled. He was a football star, and a track star,and he had a three-point-oh average. I admired that, and his plans to go into the family firm. He had brains and ambition, a good sense of humor. Everybody liked him. So did I.”
    She took a steadying breath, let herself remember. “We saw a lot of each other during the first couple months of that semester. We studied together, and went for long walks and had all those deep, philosophical discussions college students can be so smug about. I sat in the stands at football games and cheered him on.”
    She paused. “We went to a party after the biggest game of the season. He’d had a terrific game. Everybody was celebrating, and we got a little drunk. We went back to the field, just he and I, and he started to run through all these football moves. Clowning around. Then he stopped clowning, and he was on top of me. It seemed all right at first. But he got really rough, and he frightened me. I told him to stop. But he wouldn’t stop.”
    Cut the act, Dee. You know you want it. You’ve been begging for it all night.
    She shuddered, gripping her hands tight. “And I started crying, begging him. And he was so strong, and I couldn’t get away. He was tearing my clothes. He was hurting me.”
    Goddamn tease.
    “I called for help, but there was no one. I screamed. He put his hand over my mouth when I screamed. He had big hands. And I could only see his face.”
    You’re going to love it, babe.
    “His eyes were glazed—like glass. And he was inside me. It hurt so much I thought he would kill me. But he didn’t stop. He didn’t stop until he’d finished. After a while—it seemed like such a long time—he rolled off me, and he laughed.”
    Come on, Dee, you know you had fun. Ask around. Nobody makes the women happy like good old Jamie.
    “Then he stopped laughing, and he got angry because I was crying. I couldn’t stop crying.”
    Don’t pull that shit with me. We both wanted it. You say anything different and half the football team will say you made it with them, right here, Right on the fucking fifty-yard line.
    “He yanked me up, stuck his face in mine. And he warned me that if I tried to pretend I hadn’t been willing, no one would believe me. Because he was Jamie Thomas. And everyone liked Jamie. So he left me there, and I didn’t do anything. Because I was ashamed.”
    The grainy newspaper photo swam into Finn’s mind, and he struggled against the violence that rose in him. But he kept his tone even. “Didn’t you have anyone to go to?”
    “I told Fran.” Her nails were biting into her palm and slowly, deliberately she relaxed her hand. “After a couple of weeks, I couldn’t hide it from her. She wanted to go to the dean, but I wouldn’t.” She stared down at her own hands and felt the hot shame wash over her again. “She finally bullied me into counseling. After a while, I got over the worst of it. I don’t want it to control my life, Finn.” She looked at him then, eyes swollen and full of grief. “I don’t want it to spoil what we may be able to have.”
    He was afraid any words he tried might be the wrong ones. “Deanna, I can’t tell you it doesn’t matter, because it does.” When she dropped her gaze, he touched her cheek, urging her eyes back up to his. “Because I can’t stand the thought of you being hurt that way. And because you may not be able to trust me.”
    “It isn’t that,” she said quickly. “It’s me.”
    “Then let me do something for you.” Gently, he kissed her forehead. “Come to the cabin with me. Now. Today. Just a weekend alone where we can relax.”
    “Finn, I don’t know if I can give you what you want.”
    “I don’t care about what you can give me. I’m more interested in what we can give each other.”

Chapter Fifteen
    S he supposed he called the place a cabin because it was built of wood. Far from the primitive box she’d imagined, the trim, two-story structure had upper and lower covered decks joined by open stairs. Outside, the cedar shingles had silvered with weather and time and were accented by deep blue shutters. Tall, spreading yews tucked the house into its own private