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There was a moment of awkward silence and then Dr. Howell unhooked me and brought me a cup of ice water. He sank down on the chair beside the bed. I thanked him, offering him a weak smile and he patted my arm. He reminded me of my father and that sent a heavy wave of homesickness through me. I blinked hard, trying not to burst into tears.
“So, there was no initial visible evidence of sexual assault,” he said. “But if it would make you feel more at ease, I can you a full exam.”
My stomach churned. “No one touched me, I was conscious, I just couldn’t move.”
“Good, good,” he said. “I want you taking it easy here for a few days. Just relax, don’t stress yourself out. Drink plenty of fluids, have some fresh fruit until your stomach settles.”
I nodded, glancing over his shoulder. “Duran.”
He glanced up, his eyes almost desperate. “Yes?”
“Could we have a minute?”
His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t protest. I waited until he’d stepped in the hall and shut the door before turning to Dr. Howell.
“Do you know Duran well?” I asked.
He nodded. “I delivered him, so yes, very well. I practice back in the city, but Duran had me flown out overnight.”
Fuck, it was obvious whose side he was on.
“So I guess you won’t smuggle me back to my family,” I said miserably.
He sighed. “I don’t know why Duran has you here, but I signed an NDA so I can’t tell anyone anything. All I can say, is that he won’t hurt you.”
“Why do you think that?” My lips cracked.
Dr. Howell leaned back and released a short sigh. “He was frantic when I showed up. He hadn’t even washed the blood off.”
My breathing slowed. A soft warmth blossomed in my chest despite my better judgement.
“I think that the best thing to offer you in these circumstances is birth control,” Dr. Howell said, standing.
I was about to say I didn’t want it, that I wouldn’t need it. But the memory of Duran’s searing mouth on mine when we’d stood together on the yacht resurfaced. His body was so solid and protective. His hand on my neck had been possessive, demanding, and somehow sweet all at once.
“Duran says you’re very religious,” Dr. Howell said.
“My parents are,” I said. “I’m not sure what I am.”
“Well, this is all confidential. No one will ever know. If you would feel more protected on the pill, I would advise to go on it. You don’t have to use it, but it’s good to have it there just in case.”
I’d tried and failed to resist Duran already. The shame if anyone found out would be much less than the shame of him getting me pregnant outside marriage. The thought of having to stand in front of my parents and tell them I was expecting made my stomach churn.
“Duran is a good man,” Dr. Howell said quietly.
I glanced up. “He kidnapped me.”
“That was a little out of character for him.”
I sighed. “I’ll take the pill.”
He nodded, rising to his feet. He pushed his hands in his pockets, loitering for a moment. “Duran won’t hurt you,” he said finally.
I swallowed past my dry throat. “We’ll see.”
Dr. Howell left me three months worth of the pill and went downstairs. I heard him talking to Duran for a while and then the front door shut. The buzz of a motorboat sounded and disappeared. My only link to the world off this island was gone.
Why hadn’t I fought harder for him to help me? Guilt rose in my chest, homesickness following quickly behind. Was this some kind of Stockholm syndrome setting in? All it had taken for me to hitch my skirt up and climb into his lap was a bit of light banter, a few kisses, and a necklace.
