“Not unless I found you attractive.”
“And you don’t?” He raised a brow over his colorful eye like it was impossible to imagine a woman in the world who didn’t fall for his charms.
“Don’t sound so skeptical. I have a very narrow frame of natural attraction. I think I know what the problem is, where it came from, but I’m not sure how to resolve it.”
“You can’t just do what you feel like doing?”
I stared at him. Was he a complete idiot? I laughed and pulled the throw over me off the arm. It was a cashmere silk blend as soft and delicate as I felt. Minx would love the natural fibers. Was she okay? I shouldn’t have made her shoot the two men that were my job to neutralize. “No. I have to be able to pullthe trigger. I can’t put other people at risk because of my own weakness.”
“All right. You think you know what caused it. Tell me, and I’ll see what I can do to help you solve your problem.”
I curled up more tightly and pressed my lips together. “I don’t want to tell you.”
“Finally, some reluctance.” He grinned like that was a good thing.
I glared at him. “I haven’t wanted to tell you anything, but I can do what is necessary no matter how personally unpleasant I find something. At least I used to. I seduced a man for money.”
He didn’t say anything, and the silence was so loud, I could feel myself shaking apart.
“It didn’t end well,” I added.
He cocked his head, dark blue eyes curious, but polite.
I got up and walked towards the window, holding the blanket tight around me. The carpet was very nice under my bare feet. I didn’t remember taking off my heels. The words felt like shards of ice coming out of my throat. “My grandfather wanted me to take a man who preferred his women more experimental in the bedroom. I took lessons for two months so that I could know how to perform, what I should say, every look, every touch, and then I took him and…”
“Killed him?” he asked breathlessly.
I laughed, resting my face on the window, but not seeing the street. Instead, I saw myself walking out of that room, stiff and cold, like I wasn’t completely shattered on the inside. “No. I’ve never killed anyone. I seduced him. Afterwards, I was locked in my soundproof room playing my cello, but I couldn’t feel the music, couldn’t feel anything. I had to shut down my emotions completely. For two years it was like that, every Thursday night a struggle to get back to normal after the seduction, but it endedand I was left without the prize I’d promised myself. I lied to my body, so now it doesn’t trust me.”
“Because you used it like he did. Makes sense.”
I sighed and turned to face him. Did that really make sense? Not to me. It wasn’t a big deal. Clint never hurt me, not like Philippe, but these emotions were so powerful. My body really did feel betrayed. “You know a lot of prostitutes?”
He nodded soberly. “I do. I don’t hire them. I find it an ethical dilemma. Also, I’m kind of attractive to women with a slightly wider scope than you seem to have. I can tell you how to fix your problem, but you aren’t going to like it.”
I walked over and perched on the end of the couch still holding onto the blanket, curling my toes into the soft leather. “Not liking it isn’t the issue. I can do anything whether I want to or not.”
He cleared his throat. “Actually, you can’t. If you want your body to trust you, you have to trust it. Stop trying to force yourself to do things you don’t really want to do.”
I stared at him and tears rose in my eyes for no reason I could understand. “What?”
“Go for the guy that makes no sense. Don’t try to seduce the right person you don’t want. Don’t eat vegetables if you don’t like them. Go out at two a.m. for a hot dog if you want. I don’t usually have people who need to indulge, but that’s what you need, to indulge yourself.” His eyes were soft, compassionate in a way I didn’t want to see.
I frowned down at my bare feet. My toe nail wasn’t perfect. I should get a pedicure so I could look effortlessly perfect when I seduced Dirk and brought him to his knees. The thought brought me no satisfaction, in fact, I felt absolutely nauseous.
I groaned and put my head on my knees, hiding my toes.
“Does it sound that bad?” he said, amused.
“I don’t want to get a pedicure.”
“Then don’t.”
“I have to be perfect.”
“Who told you that? They were lying. They didn’t have your best interests at heart. Perfect isn’t real. Perfect is dead. Trying to be perfect when you’re human will shut you down.”
“You’re saying I suffer from perfectionism?” I asked my knees. That wasn’t what I expected to hear. I’d expected that I should talk about my feelings. Release emotion through meditation or something, not eat hot dogs. It felt right, though.
