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“I appreciate you finding me, Farris. I really do. But I would prefer a bit of privacy to make myself presentable for dinner.”
“I can bring you a tray,” he said, his gaze stormy.
“No. I don’t want Dottie to worry about me. I’ll get a shower and some clean clothes and be almost as good as new.”
“We had sex last night, India. Why can’t I help you with your shower? I’m afraid you might feel faint. A fall in the bathroom could be far worse than what you’ve already done to yourself.”
He was trying to be reasonable. She could see that. He had softened his tone, and even his stance was less aggressively male, more conciliatory. She could get lost in those blue eyes. But one thing gave her pause. One of many, perhaps.
Farris said we had sex, not we made love. It was a small point. Yet it wounded India. Even though they had agreed to recreational sex, she kept getting confused about how to respond. Could a woman ever really separate emotion from carnal pleasure?
Maybe some women.
But India had been married to Farris. And that union had been happy up until the perplexing end.
“I can shower by myself,” she said stubbornly. That might be a lie. The thought of standing up and even walking into the bathroom was daunting, much less summoning the energy to wash off several layers of prairie dust.
Farris sat down on the edge of the bed and touched her arm, stroking lightly from her palm to the inside of her elbow. “You’re feeling vulnerable. And you’re hurting. What if I keep my clothes on, and you wear your undies in the shower? We can get you cleaned up so quickly you won’t even have to worry about it.”
His face was completely expressionless. He was trying very hard to win her trust.
“I want to be alone,” she insisted. “I’ve been living on my own for five years. I haven’t needed you. I don’t need you now.” She was keeping herself together by the thinnest of threads. All the adrenaline from the accident had winnowed away. She hurt all over. There was no energy left to battle Farris.
“I’m sure you don’t,” he said. “But humor me, please. Why is this such a big deal, Inkie?” His head was cocked, his teasing smile gentle.
“You were gone when I woke up this morning.”
His expression closed. He stood up and paced. “You knew I had ranch work to tend to... My men were waiting to see me.”
“You couldn’t slow down long enough for breakfast?”
“I wasn’t hungry.”
His stonewalling made her angry. “You told me you were going to LA next week. Then, suddenly, I have to hear from the housekeeper that you’re leaving today.”
He shrugged. “My plans were fluid.”
“And now?”
“I told you. I changed my mind.”
“I see.”
Her cheek throbbed. Her hip ached. Her whole body was a mess.
There was little doubt left that Farris owed her some answers. It seemed he literally had been trying to run away from her. Was that because she had seen him at his lowest? Those questions and more would have to be postponed until she was more herself.
“Fine,” she said, her fingers clenching the sheet. “If it will make you feel better, you can help me.”
His face lightened. “Good. That’s my girl. Do you want me to carry you in there?”
“No, thank you,” she said politely. “I can walk.”
She scooted to the edge of the bed and sat up, trying not to cuss. Farris had the good sense not to say a word.
When she began to stand, he put an arm around her waist and helped.
By the time they made it to the bathroom, her forehead was clammy, and she felt weak and light-headed. Without asking, he undressed her down to her bra and panties. “Sit on the stool,” he said.
