She pulled her hand away. "What do you mean?"
"Your writing – it's so visceral. Insightful for someone so young."
She was lovely and she was sweet and she was still fragile. I knew I would overwhelm her with the intensity of my desire for her, my need to dominate her, to control her.
I could probably completely possess her, make her do things she wouldn’t otherwise imagine possible, if she let me and at that moment, I sensed that if I pressed her, she would let me.
An enormous sense of guilt filled me. She was the lovely Katherine. Champion of Africa, whose harrowing articles on Mangaize filled even me with emotion. She was the sweet sad Katherine, who lost her mother and had never fully grieved until forced to because of the trauma of Mangaize.
She was Ethan’s beloved daughter, the delicious Ms. Bennet with scuffed and bloodied knees. Who wore sexy garters and retro nylons with a seam down the back.
"I'm glad we could meet and talk," I said, still fighting with myself, the darker part of me wanting to forge ahead and seduce her. The better part of me fighting to keep him in check. "I'd like to interview you sometime, talk about Africa."
"I don't really like to talk about Africa."
"Why?"
"It was upsetting."
"Your father told me you had problems after you came back. You were there at the height of the famine. It had to be very hard." She nodded but said nothing. Then, I made my decision and the better angels of my nature won out, a mental hand covering the mouth of the darker part of me, smothering his lust-filled protest. "I'd really like to take you out for coffee or a drink," I said. "I feel like I've known you forever from everything your father's told me about you. But I probably shouldn't."
"Probably," she said and I was surprised that she said it. Did she somehow perceive the danger I posed to her? Did she sense the chasm so close to her?
"Can I ask why?" she added, her cheeks red.
I shook my head quickly. "You're The Hangin' Judge's daughter," I said, not wanting to admit it, but being truthful for a moment. "I'm not the kind of man Judge McDermott's daughter should get involved with."
She frowned at that. "He thinks very highly of you."
I smiled, but I didn’t really feel it. Instead, I felt a darkness engulf me that I couldn’t explain.
"He doesn't really know me."
She frowned but said nothing in response. If she had protested even just a small bit, all my reasons for not pursuing her would have fallen like a row of dominoes.
I walked her to the door, feeling so protective of her now that my better side won out. I held the door open for her, reluctance filling me, knowing I couldn’t pursue someone as sweet and fragile as her.
I would never want to see her expression of horror when she learned who and what I was, and most of all, what I wanted to do to her body and mind.
"Thank you for doing an interview," she said when we stepped outside.
I smiled, forcing it so we could part on a positive note.
"Goodbye, lovely Katherine."
Then the door closed and I walked one way, while she walked the other.
Part of me shouted to turn back and ask her out anyway, throwing caution to the wind, the promise of her deliciously soft and warmly compliant body beneath mine so tempting, but the better part of me won out once more.
I kept walking.
CHAPTER NINE
The next week passed slowly and I felt as if I were trapped in a fog, unable to find my way back to my real life – the one pre-Katherine when I was busy and content with things, eager to meet a new sub and start a new D/s relationship.
Instead of my usual cheerful approach to life, I went through the motions, getting up and going to work, doing my surgeries, teaching, playing in the band, but my world had become engulfed in a darkness that prevented me from enjoying life the way I usually did.
On Thursday, Lara called me to talk about Chessie and Jenna, and finding a replacement.
They weren't right for me. I'd been too busy, I told myself, to spend the time needed to train either one.
Lara met with me at our usual spot and after interrogating me about Jenna and Chessie, she leaned back in her chair and studied me for a moment while I tried to avoid her eyes.
"I have a favor to ask of you. There's this girl…"
"Girl?" I frowned, wondering what the favor was. "How old?"
"Well, not a girl. She's twenty-four. She's special."
I hesitated, intrigued but cautious. "Tell me."
"She wants to interview a Dom for an article she's writing on the lifestyle. Would you do the interview?"
"Why don't you answer her questions? You know about the lifestyle as well as I do. Better."