TARA TAYLOR QUINN
I didn't do it on purpose." He stopped, remembering. "I—I thought we were starting a relationship."
He couldn't tolerate her silence. "I'd never have touched you if I'd realized I was stripping you of your self-respect."
'"You didn't do that, Kyle." Her words were hard, uttered in a voice he hardly recognized. "I did."
"No." He knew the kind of woman who destroyed her own self-respect. Jamie wasn't that kind of woman. "I took advantage of the situation."
"And I enjoyed it."
Although he wished she sounded a little happier about that, Kyle's heart still gave a pleased little lift. He'd begun to think he was the only one with incredible memories of their night together. Memories that meant nothing if she didn't share them.
So he'd just have to help her see that night as it had been. And he knew right where to start. By telling her what she wasn't. What their lovemaking wasn't. He was an authority on both.
"You remember my telling you about my mother?''
Jamie nodded, giving his hand a little squeeze. "She'd just died. And you hated yourself for not being able to love her."
Kyle nodded, bile rising in his throat as the memories overwhelmed him. He'd never told her exactly why he hated his mother. He'd never told anyone…
"My first experience with sex
…" He paused, wondering if he really wanted to do this. ' 'I walked in on my mother—stark naked on my bed—with two men doing her."
HER SECRET, HIS CHILD
He couldn't look at Jamie. Couldn't stand to see the horror—or the pity—in her eyes. Couldn't stand the fact that he'd come from such a woman. That he might very well be the product of an act like the one he'd just described.
The hand in his tightened, offering compassion.
"I was seven years old."
Jamie swore softly. Was silent. Then swore again.
Kyle's feelings exactly.
"Did she know you were there?"
Kyle shook his head. As far as he was aware, she'd never known. "Guess she was having too damn much fun."
"Did she look like she was having fun?"
It was Kyle's turn to swear. "How the hell should I know?" he asked, staring at her. "I was just a kid."
She hung her head. "Sorry."
"Besides," he continued, wishing he'd never started, "she would hardly have invited them in if she hadn't been planning to have fun, now would she?"
"Maybe."
Kyle frowned. "Whose side are you on?"
Jamie let go of his hand. "I didn't know there were sides here," she told him. "I just wonder if maybe she was being paid for what she was doing."
"Of course she was being paid." There. He'd admitted the rest. The piece de resistance. The most damning part of all.
How could Jamie help but be disgusted by him? The son of a whore?