I opened my mouth, closed it, stroked my hands down the silk of the robe, and finally had to look away from those pain-filled eyes while I tried to think how to answer. He lowered me to the ground, but kept an arm around me like he expected me to collapse at any minute. Oh, pooh, he said, and stamped his foot, pouting. Vittorio, I said, and I had a face with the name.
That there'd be lust, or love, or something else I couldn't deal with, but that wasn't what came through the touch of his hand. You can't make me, he said. The first few times I'd woken in absolute darkness in one of these windowless rooms, it had been claustrophobic. Richard turned his head and looked at me.
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