He rubbed my shoulders, my neck, even my arms, until I relaxed back into him—a puddle of sick, exhausted woman. My mind entered a slushlike state, dreamy. His arms wrapped around me, gently rubbing my hands. Who knew hands had tension?

At first I’d been so desperate for relief that I was content to be pampered, content to use Colin that way. But after a while, even through my fog I felt the oddness of the one-sided flow of pleasure. Normally I would feel guilt that I’d even accepted it, and maybe concern that he would demand recompense, more than I had to give. But with Colin it was different. There wasn’t fear, only gratitude. I wanted him to feel good, as good as me. Of course, I also didn’t want to move or even open my eyes, so that was a dilemma.

I turned my hands over. My fingers felt small and fragile in his large ones, like a bird’s wings fluttering in a cage, but he wasn’t holding me down. He let me explore, my fingertips tracing the calluses on his palms. I curved my fingers around to the backs of his hands. Rough skin, though not as rough as the calluses, and the soft hair of a man. My fingers inched up—it was coarse and…? My eyes snapped open, and I looked down to see open cuts on his knuckles. I stared at them for a moment.

An icy shiver ran down my spine, one that had nothing to do with my fever. I didn’t know if I was slow because of the late hour or because I didn’t want to see it. I remembered what the man at the clinic had said—that was the exact phrase Colin had used last night, that the guy just didn’t want any trouble. Last night the guy had acted like he knew Colin, or at least knew of him.

I turned slowly in Colin’s arms until I was facing him, still clutching his hands. “How did you get these?”

His face closed up, confirming my fears. And in his eyes there was knowledge of what he’d done. There was caution too, which I hated.

“Colin.”

He looked like he might not answer me, but he said, “It was nothing. A disagreement.”

“Who?”

He shrugged, not casually enough. “Someone where I work.”

“Right. Someone didn’t pay the tab, so you beat him up?”

Colin shook his head, but his eyes never left mine. “The restaurant isn’t the only place I work.”

“Tell me.” Tell me you didn’t do that to him. Tell me you aren’t another violent man.

“My brother. He owns a few businesses.”

“Was it the man from the other night?”

“Why would you think that?”