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‘How could anything you say now make a difference? Nothing could test us more than what we’ve already been through together.’
‘Believe me,’ she said with a hollow laugh, ‘it’s happened before. I know it can make a difference, and that it might make a difference to you.’
He moved closer, impatience giving his words an aggressive beat. ‘Then get it over with. What is it that I should know?’
She hesitated a moment, her top teeth raking over her lip while she took a steadying breath. Then, ‘Do you remember the photograph I showed you—the one taken before Grace had treated me?’
‘I remember it. And I remember how I behaved, because I assumed whatever procedures you’d had had been purely for cosmetic reasons. I was wrong. I told you that.’
She nodded, her face drawn tight. ‘You did. But do you also remember I told you that the first attempt with laser surgery didn’t work?’
‘You said they misjudged the dosage.’
‘That’s right. Instead of renewing the skin, they damaged it beyond repair. Instead of removing the mark, they made it permanent.’
He shook his head. Surely that couldn’t be right? ‘But now it’s gone—all trace of it!’
Her eyes turned apologetic. ‘Well, you see, while the laser technicians were confident about the new technology, it was still basically experimental. But at least they had the sense to practise their new-found wizardry somewhere it couldn’t be seen—just in case.’
His mind battled for reason. If she had a scar elsewhere he would have seen it. He’d made love to her plenty of times. He’d peeled her clothes from her. He’d seen her naked—
No, he hadn’t!
Every time he’d tried to get her into the shower with him, or reached for the light, she’d slipped away on some pretext—under the sheets or into a robe. He’d felt her skin, he’d made love to every inch of her with his mouth, but he’d never actually seen her with her clothes off. Not in the light.
How could he not have realised?
She stood waiting before him, uncertainty and fear tainting her extraordinary features.
‘Show me,’ he said.
Someone’s heart was hammering. His or hers? He couldn’t be sure. She turned then, reaching her arm to the dimmer switch. His own hand stopped hers halfway there.
‘No,’ he told her. ‘No more hiding.’
She hesitated, her eyes looking to the light, as if to plead that it was too bright in here, too exposed.
‘Trust me,’ he said, returning her hand to her side.
He saw her swallow, saw the shuddering movement in her throat and the tremulous acquiescence in her eyes. Her fingers fluttered to the hem of her shirt. They fumbled for the first button, struggling with the task, finally pushing it through.
Six times her fingers repeated the same jerky action, her eyes not leaving his. Six times he wished he could do more to help than merely stand there, waiting, feeling her anguish, feeling his own tension kick up with the quiet release of each button.
How bad could it be that she would hide herself away as she had done? How bad could it be that she would be so, so afraid?
He sucked in a breath and steeled himself for the truth.
Tears pricked at her eyes, but she wouldn’t shed them—not now, not with him here. When he was gone there would be time enough for tears. She tried to will her hands to pull back her shirt, but her hands seemed stuck, somehow uncooperative.
And then his hands covered hers, squeezing them gently within his own. ‘Let me,’ he said.
Then, keeping his eyes locked on hers, he peeled back the sides of her shirt, scooping the fabric over her shoulders and down her arms, letting it fall to the floor behind her.
She squeezed her eyes shut against a fresh rush of tears and waited for the inevitable reaction. Scenes played through her head. She was back in Garry’s car—her satin dress catching on the cracked vinyl seats, the smell of quick sex competing with spilt motor oil and last week’s discarded hamburger wrapper—and then came his startled discovery and his cries of freakgirl, loud in her memory.
And then she heard something else, something happening right here and now—a hissed intake of breath. She stiffened, turning her face to the ceiling, her eyes still shut, preparing herself for the inevitable.
