Free Silk Over Razor Blades by Ileandra Young

appearance broke the spell.
Lenina felt Blake look away like a prickly blanket lifting off her
shoulders. She gazed at her fiancé. Her chest tightened. Did he
know? Could he tell how her body responded to the proximity and
scent of another man?
    She made several attempts to
swallow the growing lump at the back of her throat. ‘He’s leaving
now,’ she said.
    ‘Yes, I have what I need. Bye,
Mr Harrison.’
    ‘Yeah, bye.’ Nick gave the
detective an absent wave and stopped before Lenina. He placed his
hands on her shoulders. Kissed her cheek. ‘You okay, babe? You’re
all flushed.’
    She looked at his chin, not
daring to meet his eyes. ‘I’m fine.’
    ‘Remember to call the doctor.
Let me know if Ray is staying or if I need to ride back from the
office.’
    ‘Sure.’
    Another kiss. ‘Thanks. Bye,
Ray. Good to see you.’
    ‘You too.’ Ray inclined his
head.
    Nick swept out the door, taking
the detective with him. They shook hands on the drive and Nick
leapt on to his bike, wedging his helmet on to his head and riding
away. Blake climbed into his own car and drove away. Only after
both men cleared her line of sight did Lenina close the door.
    Ray loomed behind her, arms
folded tight across his broad chest.
    ‘We need to talk,’ he said.

Chapter
Eight
     
     
    Lenina paused en route to the
kitchen, drawing a deep breath through her nose. She could still
smell Tristen on the air; his peppermint breath and a trace of his
spicy aftershave. It brought to mind his smile and gentle hand on
her arm. Her cheeks warmed.
    Armed with the pleasant memory,
she entered the kitchen. Ray waited for her at the table, massive
hands wrapped around a mug of tar-like coffee. The bitter scent
warred with the peppermint and chased it away, as if even her
father’s beverage wanted the detective gone. Opposite him was
another mug, again of coffee. A pot of sugar stood beside it, spoon
sticking out to one side.
    ‘I don’t like coffee,’ she
whispered.
    Ray pursed his lips. ‘Then I’ll
drink it. But you should lay off food this morning.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Stress and shock can do funny
things to your insides. Make sure you’re settled before you try
anything solid.’
    She sat down. Picked up the
mug. Put it down without drinking. ‘I’m sorry, Daddy.’
    ‘What for?’
    Though she opened her mouth,
the response refused to surface.
    He snorted. ‘You don’t even
know why.’
    His words cut like razor
blades. ‘For not telling you what happened. I didn’t plan to.’
    ‘I know. But I worry about
you.’
    She gripped the edge of the
table. ‘I’m twenty seven, not a little girl. I can cope.’
    ‘Can you?’
    Glaring into his calm, steady
face, she saw the question in his arched eyebrows. ‘What’s that
supposed to mean?’
    He sighed. ‘Sometimes things
happen that you can’t help. But they change you. I want to be sure
you’re ready for whatever comes next.’
    ‘There is no ‘next,’ it was
just a crazy, homeless man. I want to move on and forget the creepy
guy even exists. I’m more concerned about this horrible scratch on
my face and what to do about the catering. Two weeks really isn’t
very long.’
    Ray leaned back in his seat. He
tucked his thumb into his mouth and gnawed the nail. ‘You and
Jordan are everything to me. If anything happened . . .’
    ‘It didn’t. I’m hurt, but
okay.’
    ‘You don’t feel weird? Ill?
Tense?’ His gaze strayed to the bandage on her neck.
    ‘Of course I’m tense; you
haven’t stopped nagging me since you arrived. I thought Mum was
supposed to do that.’
    ‘We swapped, I’m better at it
than she is.’
    It took Lenina several seconds
to realise he’d made a joke.
    Ray sighed. ‘Would you tell me
if something was wrong?’
    She thought back to earlier
that morning and the excruciating pain in her midsection. Dry
heaving over the toilet bowl. Bizarre and full sensory dreams about
soldiers in ancient battles.
    Lenina nodded. ‘Of course I
would.’
    He