He photographed each scar, clinical and thorough. “We need an overall record for your file.” He stepped back and spots danced in her vision as the flash went off again. “Turn.”
She faced the wall, and the room silenced. A chill drifted down her spine as goosebumps rose on the backs of her thighs. The camera flashed and clicked.
“Back on the table, please.”
She searched for the armhole of the gown.
“You don’t need that.” He held up the paper blanket, waiting for her to sit.
Excruciatingly aware of her nakedness, she climbed onto the table, nothing between his eyes and her body except cold air and the remnants of her dignity.
“Good girl. Lie back.”
Stiffer than a corpse, she reclined.
“Feet in the stirrups, please.” When her stiff legs wouldn’t cooperate, he guided her heels into place. “Now, scoot forward.”
She shifted but barely moved.
“A little more.”
“Ohmygod…” she murmured under her breath, sliding her body to the very edge of the table, painfully aware of his view.
“Good.” He draped the paper blanket over her thighs and lowered to a stool, dropping out of her line of vision.
He moved the bright light closer, and when the stirrups widened, she wanted to die.
“Try to relax.”
She flinched at the first touch of his gloved hand.
“Sensitive?”
“I’m not used to being touched.”
“No?” Latex brushed across her inner thigh. “That will change soon.”
Before she could respond, his hands moved to the juncture of her thighs.
“I’m going to examine you internally now. It may be uncomfortable if you’ve never—” His fingers sank inside of her, and the world stopped spinning. “I see.” His touch drew back ever so slightly, but his fingers still rested inside of her. “A virgin.”
She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe.
“Do they know?” His voice gentled.
She shook her head, the motion jerky and small.
“Interesting.” His fingers spread her flesh wider. “This could make things...difficult for you. The hunt can be quite...vigorous.”
She swallowed. “I’m aware.”
“Are you?” He rose from his stool to stand over her. The second his fingers left her, she exhaled. “Can I ask why?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re twenty-two, pretty enough…I mean no judgment.”
“It’s not some moral decision I made.”
