“They told me it wasn’t a good idea—that monkeys are fragile—but I didn’t listen.” She made a small fist and thumped it against his chest. “Why didn’t I listen? Oh, we were having such fun—it didn’t even hurt, and I thought it was supposed to hurt the first time. And then I started to come and I wrapped my legs around his waist and squeezed and—and—”

“Janet, it was an accident.” Monkeys? Odd slang—he had never been able to keep up with it. Had she broken the boy’s ribs? Had they been in a precarious position and fallen, and perhaps the boy had…? Well, whatever had happened, he was thoroughly certain of one thing. “You didn’t mean to hurt him, Jane. You never would have hurt him. You’ve got to let this go.” He was stroking her back while he soothed her, and she finally relaxed against him. He added jokingly, hoping to see a scowl, “Besides, you don’t need to worry about such things with me. You could set me on fire while you were having your way with me, and I’d be fine the next day. Before you ask, though, I’m really not into that.”

She jerked up on one elbow and stared at him. Her eyes were smudged with tears, bloodshot, and enormous. He thought she’d never looked so pretty. “That’s right,” she said slowly. “I was thinking about that last night and you…I can’t hurt you. You can take whatever I dish out.”

“And have been,” he added, “for several days now. See, look!” He showed her his arm where, in her agitation, she’d clawed off ribbons of skin. It was nearly healed.

Oddly, she was still staring at him as if she’d never seen him before. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before, Dick.”

“You’ve had other things on your mind. Now, that’s enough crying over a fifteen-year-old accident you couldn’t help,” he said briskly, hoping she agreed. He couldn’t bear to see her cry. He rolled out of bed and stood up, casting about for a way to distract her. “How about sushi and maybe some vegetable tempura for breakfast?”

She perked up immediately. “I like raw fish,” she said. “I like steak tartare, too, but I like it better with steak, not hamburger.”

“Sounds like we have lunch figured out, too, m’love.”

“But first we have to shower,” she said, almost shyly.

He laughed, bent to her, picked her up, and kissed her. “Yes indeed. You are filthy. And so am I. I foresee lots of scrubbing in our future.”

“Fucking pervert,” she snorted, and he cheered inwardly, knowing she was back to herself.