“Oh.”
He touched the blindfold. “Got this on, after all.”
She couldn’t do it. Not because of what he might see, but because of whatshe’dsee. Her arm against his skin would look filthy. Like shit on a Monet. Nothing would kill her desire or herconfidencefaster.
She collapsed in on herself, a bundle of stupid insecurity. Suddenly, she had to get out of this place, this town. It had sucked her in, made her feel like she could stay and be…what?
“Look, Ivan, you’ve been really nice, but I’m not…” She made as if to pull away, but Ivan’s hand circled her calf, tight enough to remind her exactly who was top dog around here, if he chose. He could crush Uma like an ant. Not something she could afford to forget.
“Stay.”
“I have to go.”
“Stay here.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Please.”
“I’m not one of your strays, okay?” She tested her leg, tried to subtly pull away. His hand loosened.
“Strays?”
“Yeah, your dog. And all those cats outside. And all the others. You feed a damned skunk, for God’s sake.”
“It’s a baby.”
“Exactly! And there’s Ms. Lloyd. You take care of every broken soul for miles around, me included.”
“You’re not broken. Don’t you—”
“You think I’m not broken?” Her laugh came out harsh, humorless. “I’m a mess, Ivan. I’m a freak. A fucking freak! I don’t want you to look at me. I can’t even stand to seemyself.”
“Oh, baby.” He reached out, and she shifted back.
“No. No pity. Please.”
“I just want to make it better, Uma.”
The prickle of tears pressed hard to her eyes, shockingly unfamiliar after so many dry months. “You can’t, Ivan.”
“At least let me try.”
And she wanted to. She wanted him to make everything okay.
“You trust me, Uma?”
Yes.
She took a breath in. She’d known him, what, less than two weeks? But the answer was obvious.
“Yes,” she whispered, releasing the air from her lungs. “Yes. I trust you.”
“All right, then close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Let me make you feel good, Uma. Trust me. Please.”
