If she hadn’t watched him open a brand new bottle and pour it in front of her, she might have been too paranoid to accept the drink, but the only thing in it was wine. It was a brand she recognized and one she liked. She downed it in one long swallow, not caring what Anton would think of her slamming the wine back like a refugee from a 12-step program.
Within minutes, the warm, tingly buzz crept over her face, and she didn’t feel like the world was ending—even though it still might be. That would depend on what Anton did to her.
She handed the glass back to him.
“Another?” he asked.
“No.” She was afraid to be too drunk with him, afraid to pass out locked away in his secret apartment.
He put the glass in the sink and sat beside her. She was surprised when he pulled her close. Without conscious thought, she leaned against his chest while his fingers caressed her hair and up and down her arm. Even after everything, she drank up the promise and hope of kindness.
“Lindsay explained what we do, didn’t he?”
“Well, not exactly. A bit. He was vague.” She found herself relaxing as his hand moved to knead the back of her neck.
“And you understand you will be naked and being touched by me in a few moments, yes?”
Maybe she should have taken the second drink. For all her experience in the kink scene, this man left her unbalanced.
She nodded.
Mina sat mute as he undressed her. The lighting was low, and for a moment she thought he might not get a good look at her back, but he moved to the wall and flicked a switch, bathing the room in bright cruel fluorescence.
“Turn,” he said, rotating a finger in the air.
She turned away and held her breath. The only sound in the room was the central heat clicking on. Anton made no comment. He didn’t trace any of her scars with his fingertips as the doctor had done.
For those moments of silence, Mina found herself more terrified he would reject her than anything else he might do. Her damage was too much on display. It made her a freak. The longer this silence dragged, the more the images of Jason and the others flashed through her mind. The laughing, the taunts, the humiliation, the pain.
Why had she allowed any of that?
Why was she here now?
“In this room, you will call me, Sir.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Something familiar. This would be okay. Even if he were a terrible person like the others, no one else had started hurting her the first day… they’d all pretended at first. He’d probably pretend, too. Then she would go home and forget all this.
He perched on the edge of the bed. “Crawl to me. I want to watch how you move.”
She went to her hands and knees and moved across the thick carpet.
“Stay on your knees and spread your legs.” That accent touched places inside her that she’d been sure were gone now. “Sit up straight.”
Being under Anton’s gaze was the very definition of scrutiny. Before it had been scenes at play parties followed by scenes that flowed into relationships in private… kink that flowed into abuse.
Here, Anton held a quiet power, like the doctor’s in some ways. Different in others. These men were a whole other level—a level she’d been unaware existed. She was afraid to know more. The past chased her, biting at her heels, telling her to run. But all she could do was obey him.
Anton leaned forward. “That’s a good girl,” he cooed as his hand moved between her legs. “So wet. Does it not embarrass you to be this excited kneeling at my feet?”
“No, Sir.”
“You’re very brave to be here.”
She tensed at that, even as his fingers caressed the bundle of nerves between her thighs.
“Relax. That was not a threat. Just an observation.” He stroked the side of her throat, leaving behind a trail of the evidence of her excitement.
Anton’s hands strayed to her breasts, the lightest touch causing her nipples to harden.
“I’ve seen enough. You can get dressed now. Lindsay will call you in a few days if we are interested in you.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He opened the door and disappeared into the depths of the spa.
What had just happened? She wanted to run after him and ask if she’d done something wrong. But she knew the problem. Anton was repulsed by the scars.
She hurriedly dressed, grabbed her bag, and slipped out of the building. It had already started to get dark, and she was grateful not to have the garish bright sun shining down on her to illuminate her shame.
Mina sat behind the wheel of her car in stunned silence until the cold air seeped in through the edges of the windows.
She felt used. Of course they weren’t going to call her. Anton had probably taken one look at the wreck that was her back and decided that her face couldn’t make up for it, that there was nothing she could do to impress or please enough to erase it.
When she reached her apartment, she poured a glass of wine and went straight to her room and stripped. She held the glass in one hand and a cigarette in the other as she craned to study her reflection in the full-length mirror. She’d tried to pretend it wasn’t that bad. But it was that bad—even in the low lighting she kept in her room to minimize it. What had it been like in the bright light she’d been subjected to with Anton?
Even without the dreams and panic attacks, it wouldn’t have worked with Tony because eventually he would have seen them. And how could she explain? Only a sadist could love those scars, and a sadist would only add to them.
Mina brushed away a tear. She hadn’t realized she’d started crying again. Maybe she should lay off the wine. It made her more self-pitying.
It felt as if the Russian’s hand lingered between her legs, those brief caresses that made her believe for the smallest second that something good could happen to her… a gentle dominance that wouldn’t turn to violence. She’d expected something more would happen. She’d found herself oddly hoping for it, praying she could handle it and finally find what she’d been searching for. But they didn’t want her.
She’d gone for the interview, and now it was over. She’d find another therapist and move on.
Mina nearly broke her neck getting out of the shower to answer the phone. Dr. Smith’s number flashed on her screen.
“You missed your appointment, Monday. Are you sick?”
“No, I’m fine,” she said.
“Why weren’t you here?”
The way he said it made her feel as if she’d done something horrifically wrong, something that called for punishment. The latter thought made her cringe.
“I just thought that under the circumstances, maybe I should find another doctor.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. “What circumstances would those be? I’m confused.” He didn’t sound confused.
Now it was her turn to be silent because she couldn’t give voice to the rejection.
“By the way,” he said, “Anton and I finally had a chance to speak. I was going to tell you yesterday, but you decided not to show up. I considered not contacting you at all, but I’ve had time to calm down. Meet me at the office.”
“Now?” she squeaked.
“No, next year. Of course, now. Right now. I expect you sitting across from me in thirty minutes or I will be extremely disappointed.”