Read By My Choice...: A Valentine's Day Story (Valentine's Day Stories) for Free Online

are vain — but not self-involved enough. And I think you enjoy testing, and mocking, your visitors.”
    His grin was open and wide, no trace of challenge or disdain left. It was the most dangerous smile she had ever seen, it lit his eyes and left her breathless, wrapped in a warm coat of laughter and shared intimacy. A deceptive familiarity, one better not depended upon.  
    Suddenly she could not stand the heat pressing on her. This room seemed to be even warmer than the entrance hall, or the train. Her coat felt oppressive, the soft fabric of her shirt abrasive against her skin. Jen squirmed, feeling as if hot needles were attached to the inside of her clothes, pricking her skin with every breath she took. She wanted it gone, wanted to scratch her skin until she had removed all the prickling, all the stinging. She wanted a cold shower. She wanted to be away from here
    She must have moved, a sound escaping her lips, for he asked, worry evident in his voice:
    “Are you feeling all right, Jennifer?”
    He was one of the few people who, having met her first as a child, still used her full name, Jennifer, rather than the more common diminutive, Jen. His French accent turned the harsh sounds of the English vowels into something softer, something closer to the old form of Genevieve. She loved the sound and, for a moment, she was too caught up in listening to the disappearing notes to comprehend the meaning of his question.  
    Then her rational mind caught up with her. Why was he asking if she was feeling all right? On second thought, how was she feeling? The question gave her pause. She had been hot, almost feverish for hours now, days really, if one counted the waves of heat coming and going over the last week or so. Jen had been so tense, so concentrated on her anger, her pain, she had only vaguely allowed herself to feel the rising ache in her head, tremors travelling along her skin, shaking her body in small, almost imperceptible quakes. She was so used to the constant mental discomfort of overload, she had ignored the other pains. But thinking about it now, she had to admit that no, she was not all right. What she had attributed to her emotional state, to the awareness of the power of the man she had been given to against her will, had truly been physical in nature. She felt sick.
    “No, I don’t think I am quite all right.” Now that she had become aware of her own indisposition, had allowed her body’s reactions to imprint on her mind and not pushed them down as a nuisance with her usual ruthless determination, she suddenly felt faint, weak and shaking.  
    “I think I might have to lie down a little.” Jen had never heard her own voice tremble before.  
    She almost missed the quick move with which he stepped closer, reached for her. In confusion, she stumbled back, afraid his touch would shatter the calm she tried to preserve with all her strength. Her skin felt fragile, like spiderwebs vibrating under the rising wind. She knew her mind would not be able to filter out the all consuming force of sensation. She took a breath, exhaled and took another. Concentrating on the air travelling through her lungs gave her a small measure of control, enough to make her realise she needed to get to somewhere private, somewhere alone, to settle her mind.
    She wanted to huddle under a blanket and forget the world, or better still, take a cold shower — or possibly a hot one. Her mind, so controlled, so well versed in ignoring any physical or emotional upheaval she refused to acknowledge, was drowned in sensation. Where her clothes touched her she felt near pain, the little hairs on her arms stood as if they needed to preserve the warmth of her body against the cold, whilst at the same time she felt her skin burning.  
    “What do you feel, little one?”
    He had come closer and she had not even noticed. Fear began to rise in her mind, fighting for predominance with all the physical sensations she seemed unable to control. She