The leather strap rests openly on the oak table between us, its presence no longer hidden in the drawer where I keep instruments of healing and correction. When Annabel sets the portfolio down, her fingers graze my scarred wrist, and the contact burns hotter than any fever I have treated.
She needs my authority to win guardianship of her orphaned niece, yet her anxious yielding and the flush along her slender neck awaken the control I crave to mask my own buried fear. Every command I issue during examination risks turning medical necessity into the punishment we both secretly require.
If I order her to unfasten her sleeve tonight, there will be no reclaiming the distance that has kept us safe.
