fingers as his gaze moved over her body. As if he were considering…
No. Don’t think it, she told herself frantically. She was imagining things. He would never…no. It was unthinkable, so she just wouldn’t think it. “Please,” she whispered.
He severed the ties with four slashes of his knife. Elaine rolled into a shivering ball, still wearing knotted bracelets and anklets of green silk. “If you need the bathroom, go,” he said. “Don’t make me wait.”
She rolled off the bed and fled down the hall to the bathroom. It was filled with mirrors, a luxury she didn’t appreciate tonight. She looked pale. Bluish, like skim milk. Her eyes looked huge and staring.
Scared half to death by that weird emptiness she’d glimpsed in his eyes while he was holding that wicked looking little knife.
She shoved open the window and leaned out, checking escape routes. Second story. Sheer drop. No porch roof, no drainage pipe, no handy tree. The probability of hurting herself was very high. Besides, she was stark naked. Her clothes were in the bedroom with Mark.
Calm down already, she told herself. She was just dramatizing, like she always did. She could imagine Gloria Clayborne’s reaction if her daughter were found wandering around town naked at night, babbling about a secret sadist lover. Mother had been very clear about how important it was that Elaine not embarrass her again. She had to keep it together, or it would be back to the loony bin for Lainie.
It was hard to say which prospect frightened her more. Her mother’s fury and scorn; the loony bin; or Mark, staring down at her naked, immobilized body. Twirling that knife between deft fingertips.
She splashed cold water on her face. She was imagining things, working herself into a state, as always. She tried to undo the knots, but they’d been pulled too tight. They were as hard as little rocks.
She would go in and assert herself, for once. Thanks, Mark, for the new identity, but she was sticking with her old one. She flung her hair back, straightened her back, and started toward the bedroom.
But the strips of silk tied to her ankles trailed behind her like a dog’s leash.
Abby speared a plump truffle ravioli on her fork, and stared into her plate. The pasta was adorned with a dusting of grated truffle. The elegant decor, the muted clink of silver on china, the discreet, attentive service: it was just right. She sipped her wine and tried to concentrate on what Reginald was saying. Her face felt like a rubber mask.
Reginald stopped in mid-monologue and stroked his goatee. She wondered if the white streaks over his ears had been put there by a hairdresser. They were so improbably symmetrical, suspended in a thick, swept-back scaffolding of hair gel. Like Dracula.
What an ungracious thought. The guy had done nothing wrong, other than be pompous and boring. Since when was that a crime?
“Are you all right?” Reginald’s baritone voice oozed sensitive concern. “You seem distracted.”
“Do I? Gee, I’m sorry.” Abby attempted to wrench her mind into focus. It was like wrestling alligators in a mud pit.
“Intuition is my stock in trade,” he said. “I’m a psychotherapist, as Ludovic must have told you. Nothing escapes my notice.”
“How nice for you.” Abby speared another ravioli with a jab of her fork and put on a bright, interested smile. “Who’s Ludovic?”
Reginald smirked. “You must have known Ludovic for a long time if you still use the nickname ‘Dovey.’”
“Dovey? Good Lord. You mean Dovey’s real name is—”
“Ludovic has decided that he must leave his past behind, and with it, his nickname. A name that represents self-destructiveness.”
Abby searched for a coherent response to that, but Reginald sailed smoothly on. “If you consider yourself his friend, call him by his real name, which represents both his essential, core self, and also the supremely realized future self toward which we all aspire.”
Wow, that was a big chunk to chew on. “But Dovey never—”
“I can’t say any more without violating the doctor-patient bond of confidentiality.” Reginald stroked his goatee, a Freudlike gesture.
“Uh, of course. All I meant was, Dovey never even told me that—”
“Ludovic’s former persona often dominates his behavior.” Reginald gave her a knowing smile. “Setbacks, slipups, they’re all part of the process of growth, Abby. As I’m sure you know.”
“But he never once even mentioned—”
“But can one ever plumb the depths of another person? Their dreams, their dark desires? No matter how close we might feel, another person is a foreign country. Even one’s most intimate…beloved.”
She eyed him with mounting alarm. “Uh…”
“But oh, the thrill of the unknown.” Reginald’s eyes fixed on her with what she guessed was meant to be a seductive gaze. “No quest is more compelling than the frontier of the Beloved Other. Verdant jungles…thrusting mountains…precipitous chasms…more wine?”
She stuck out her glass. “God, yes,” she muttered.
“I feel like an explorer tonight.” Reginald filled her glass with an experienced twist of his wrist. “With such an attractive woman.”
“Uh, thanks.” Abby gulped her wine, and persisted in trying to finish her sentence. “But all I was saying is, if Dovey—”
“I can’t permit our conversation about Ludovic to continue, Abby.” Reginald’s tone turned stern. “My professional ethics forbid it.”
Abby closed her mouth with a snap. Reginald reached over to pat her hand. “Sorry to be abrupt, but I would so prefer to talk about you.”
“That’s nice,” she said tightly.
“Oh, yes.” Reginald did not seem to register her discomfort. “Such a beautiful, mysterious woman makes me curious.” He eyed her bosom.
“Oh, really?” She hated her brain dead, two word replies, but it didn’t matter. This guy didn’t need any help carrying on a conversation. He could hold up both sides all by himself. Abby stabbed the last ravioli and stuck it into her mouth. She was going to need all her strength.
“Ludovic told me a lot about you,” Reginald said. “He told me that you had a very, shall we say, colorful past, romantically speaking.”
Abby’s fork clattered loudly onto her plate. “Oh, did he?”
“I was fascinated.” Reginald took a big bite of his steak and eyed her hungrily as he chewed it. “I’m bending my own rules by being here tonight, you see. It’s a bit dodgy, to allow one of my patients to fix me up, but Ludovic had told me so much about you, I just couldn’t resist.”
“I, ah, see,” she said stiffly. She was going to have a stern little talk with Dovey. The very second she got home.
Reginald’s smile
