"Dear lord, I should have killed him."

She knew what he saw. Al hadn't kept his beatings to fists only. Her back was a mass of whip-like welts from lashings with his leather belt. "Do you want me any less?" She knew the answer. Love didn't care about scars.

"No." He crossed to her, set his hands on her hips, and began running kisses up and down the lines on her back. "You'll always be the most beautiful woman on Earth."

"Then credit me with the same degree of ...