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“I’m sorry,” she saidsoftly.
He kissed the top of her head. “Don’t feel sorry for me. It was goodpractice.”
“Forwhat?”
“For the life I was destined to lead,” hesaid.
“Whichis?”
“One where distance is control and where control is safety and safety ispower.”
The firmness in his voice was like a stone falling in her stomach. She thought about the rope he’d used to tie her up, the tenderness with which he’d coiled it around her body. There had been no malice, no desire topunish.
In fact, he’d been almostapologetic.
There are some things I can’t change,Nina.
“In any case,” he said, “I don’t believe inpsychology.”
She turned to look at him. “What do youmean?”
“I have many colleagues with money who were raised in warm, loving families. That mine wasn’t one may just as well speak to DNA aspsychology.”
“You think you would have been this way regardless of your upbringing?” sheasked.
“Who knows? Maybe it’s in myblood.”
She turned around, focusing on the faucet so she didn’t have to look at he resignation in hiseyes.
“I don’t believe that.” It came out harsher than sheintended.
He pushed her shoulders gently, forcing her off his body. “Look at me,Nina.”
She turned around. His hair was damp, water droplets dotting his chest. “Don’t try to changeme.”
“I’mnot.”
“I’ll give you what I can, but it will never be everything you want,” he said. “It may not even be everything you need. You should ask yourself if you can live withthat.”
She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I can.” She leaned in to kiss him. “Ican.”
