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Her angry words surprised a bark of laughter from him that boomed through her ear.
Cynthia pulled away. “I’m serious.”
He smiled down at her. “I have every intention of killing him. I should’ve done it long ago.”
“He deserves to die. How could he have done that? You were so…” She didn’t realize she was crying until Nick pulled her back into his arms.
“Shh. It was long ago. And I am healed.”
“You are not healed. I want to help you, Nick.”
Nick shook his head.
Forcing her tears to stop, she stepped back and kept her hands locked onto his crumpled waistcoat. “Tell me what to do.”
He shook his head again. “Nothing. I don’t need help. I’m well.”
“You won’t let me touch you.”
“I’m sorry, Cyn.” He put his hands over hers and stroked them down to her arms. “I just can’t.”
His hands squeezed tighter, pressing her wrists together. A shock of recognition traveled up her bones.
This was lust to him. This was need. The way he held her when they made love. The way his hands restrained her.
And he might be hurt tomorrow, or worse.
She took a deep breath to keep the sobs at bay. “I want to make it better, Nick.”
His hands wrapped around her arms seemed to ease him. He calmed enough to smile, though it trembled a bit at the corners. “You do make it better.”
“You need something from me, don’t you? You’ve tried to hide it, but I feel your hands tighten around my wrists. I feel you hold me down.” As she said it, the words became the truth, so easy to recognize.
“No.” He dropped her hands and jumped away. “That’s not what I want.”
“It is.” When she wrapped a hand around her own wrists, his eyes followed. “I want to make you forget him.”
“You can’t.”
“For a moment, I can.” A shuddering sob broke free before she could stop it. “I can.”
Resolved, Cynthia reached for the tiny buttons at the top of her nightdress. She moved slowly so he could stop her if he wanted, but Nick stayed still.
“Let me,” she begged. “You want to know I won’t touch you? I won’t. I swear I won’t. Hold me down. Keep me still.”
Nick took one step back, but his gaze fluttered over her working fingers. “Don’t ask me to.”
“I want you to. I’m not afraid of you, Nick. You won’t hurt me.” She pulled her arms free of the sleeves and let her gown fall.
His eyes devoured her, his breath came hard and fast.
Ruthless, Cynthia held her arms out in front of her and pressed her wrists together the way he had. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want to…” Desire burned in his eyes as he watched her arms, but that hunger was edged with horror. “I want to restrain you.” He closed his eyes for a long moment, and when he reopened them, his tortured gaze met hers. “I want to bind your hands.”
She nodded. “Do it.”
“It’s not right, Cyn. You’re not a…a whore. I won’t use you like that.”
