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way her eyebrows
were knitted.
    “It’s not because you’re
married, is it?” she asked.
    “No.”
    “You’re not married?”
    “You’re the only woman I’d
marry.”
    “Well, I absolutely have to
see you first.”
    He laughed. It was time to
go. She’d gotten her spunk back and he couldn’t risk her tearing off her
blindfold. Not with the deception he’d employed. It was possible she’d be so
upset she wouldn’t see him here or in therapy ever again. Not only that, but if
she were really upset, she might sue him or contact his employer and get him
fired. No, there was way too much risk.
    He set her aside and then
helped her to her feet. He tucked himself back into his pants, watching her
carefully for any sudden movement.
    “And what am I supposed to
call you?” she asked again.
    She felt a light kiss on
the tip of her nose and she knew he wasn’t going to answer her. “Tell me one
thing and I won’t ask any more questions for now,” she bargained.
    Silence.
    She cocked her head,
listening.“Are you there?”
    Silence.
    “I’m taking the blindfold
off,” she warned.
    She slipped it off and
looked around, already knowing she was alone again. She studied the scarf in
her hand. The perimeter was black and inside of that was a wild design in
orange, pink and yellow, a violent ocean wave in front of a canopy of stars.
There was fire, leaping fish, the feeling of movement, the struggle to live.
Not only was it mesmerizing; it was Hermes. He’d bought Parisian quality for
the occasion.
    Or had he taken it...from
his wife or girlfriend? Was that why he wouldn’t tell her who he was? He’d said
he wasn’t married, but how did she know he was telling the truth? Or maybe he
was engaged and this was some game, a last fling before he tied the ol’ knot.
    She turned and picked her
clothes off the floor and dressed again. The only item not there was her bra.
It was her best one, too. She glanced up at the top of the dryer, in case it
had been left and saw two hundred-dollar bills lying there. She felt an
unpleasant sensation in her stomach at the sight. The money had been kind of a
thrill the first time. It felt different now.

 
     
    Chapter Four
     
     
    December 12
     
    Jenny smiled her approval
that Ryan had practiced the exercises she assigned. It had made their session
go smoothly. “I’m proud of you. You did a great job today.”
    “Do I get a r-reward?” he
teased.
    She grinned as she wrote a
note in his file. “Like a lollypop?”
    “L-l-like d-dinner.”
    Her eyes shot up,
surprised.
    “I’d b-buy, of c-course.”
    His stuttering had suddenly
taken a turn for the worse. Stress. Her mind went blank searching for a
response.
    “It’s okay,” he said
quickly, shaking his head. “I’m s-sure you don’t go out with g-guys like me.”
    Conflicting emotions tore
at her. She crossed her arms. “Patients, you mean?” she asked a little testily.
    He studied the frown on her
face, wondering what was going on in that beautiful head of hers. After a brief
hesitation, he nodded.
    “I hope you didn’t mean
that I wouldn’t date someone with a speech impediment. I would be really
disappointed if you thought I was that shallow.” Slowly, he relaxed, impressed
by her sincerity, and the relief on his face made her chest ache. That was what he’d meant. How much rejection had he suffered because of a damned
stutter? “My dad stutters,” she admitted quietly. “So does my brother. It’s why
I became a speech therapist. A lifetime of seeing their frustration, a lifetime
of seeing jerks make fun of them,” she said passionately. “So please don’t ever
suggest I would be — ”
    He held up his hands in
concession. “I didn’t know.”
    She took a breath and
exhaled, realizing she’d gone a little over the edge. Still, she hated that
anyone would think that of her.
    There was a brief knock on
the door before Zoe came barreling in. “Oh,” she remarked with an innocent look
that didn’t