Powerlessness
Flicka von Hannover
It’s true.
Dieter always soothed me by holding me,
but I couldn’t bear it this time.
That night, when Flicka von Hannover lay down on the single, queen-sized bed in the room, Dieter reached for her, just his hand alighting on her shoulder, to draw her toward him.
Panic welled in her chest.
She flinched backward, shaking.
Dieterpushed himself up on one elbow. “Flicka?”
“I’m okay. I just— You startled me. That’s all.” Her whole body quaked, and she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to make it stop.
He frowned, scrutinizing her. “You’re shaking.”
She dragged the comforter up and around her shoulders. “I’m just cold.”
One of his dark blond eyebrows dipped. “It’s pretty warm in here. The air conditioner is havinga hard time keeping up with August in Nevada, especially upstairs.”
“I can be cold,” she argued.
He reclined and laid his hand, palm up, on the expanse of white sheet between them. “If you’re cold, come here.”
Heat from his body drifted between the sheets, warming her bare legs. Dieter was six-feet-four of solid, male muscle. His body put out more heat than the core of the sun. If she werecold, cuddling up next to him would warm her within minutes. “I’m okay over here.”
He sighed. “It wasn’t a good idea, was it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He watched her, his gray eyes kind. “Sleeping together in Paris.”
She clutched the covers more tightly around her shoulders. “Where else would you have slept?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then you’re speaking nonsense.”
“I took advantage of you, didn’t I?”
“No. Of course not. I told you to. I practically demanded it. I probably took advantage ofyou,a recently divorced man with no ready source of nookie.”
He smiled a little. “Nookie, huh?”
“I’ve been hanging out with Rae for months. Her speech patterns are contagious. I told someone at my wedding that I was ‘thinking about getting going.’ She was aghast atthe number of verbs I had shoved into one sentence.”
“So, you’re fine?” he asked. “The ‘nookie’ didn’t worsen your distress at all?”
Her little joke hadn’t distracted him in the slightest, a pity. “Of course, I’m fine.”
“Then take my hand,” he said.
His strong fingers flexed open on the bed sheet.
