In the Heat of the Spotlight

She prickled, resisting any kind of analysis. ‘You think?’

‘I do.’

She let out a slow breath, forced herself to relax even though every instinct had her reaching for armour, for the defence of mockery. ‘Well, who doesn’t want to be in control, really?’

‘No one, I suppose,’ Luke agreed quietly, ‘and especially not someone who had no choice about where to live or when to move or what school to go to. Or even, really, how famous she wanted to be.’

She felt that first, sudden sting of tears and shook her head. ‘Don’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I can’t stand being pitied, I told you that—’

‘I know, and that’s a kind of keeping control, isn’t it? You keep insisting that everything was your choice because if it wasn’t you’re a victim and you can’t stand that thought.’

No, she couldn’t, and even though she’d never articulated it to herself, Luke had. Luke understood her—far too well. She managed a very shaky smile. ‘These are so not my terms.’

‘I know, Aurelie. I’m breaking my own rules here, but I need to say this.’ He took a step closer to her. ‘As soon as the clothes start coming off, you can call all the shots.’

She let out a wobbly laugh. ‘Promise?’

‘Cross my heart.’ He took another step towards her, reached for her hands. ‘What you had with Pete Myers was not a relationship.’

Her hands tensed underneath his. ‘It felt like one.’

‘No, it didn’t. You have nothing to compare it with, so trust me on this, okay?’

Trust. It always came down to trust. She blinked, swallowed. Willed herself to keep her hands in his, not to pull away. For once. ‘So what was it, then?’

‘Abuse.’

‘No.’ Now she did pull her hands away from his. She turned away from him, wrapping her arms around herself as if she were cold. She was cold, but on the inside.

‘How old was he when he first kissed you?’

‘Why does the age difference even matter? Plenty of people—’

‘Fifty?’

‘Forty-nine,’ she snapped. ‘That doesn’t matter.’

‘It doesn’t always matter,’ Luke agreed quietly. ‘But in this case, when you were young, impressionable, utterly dependent on him—he must have known you thought of him like a father, Aurelie. And he knew you had no one else in the world. He took advantage of you—’

‘That doesn’t make it abuse.’

‘I won’t argue about semantics. What I’m trying to say is you can’t judge any other relationship by what happened with that man. It wasn’t healthy or right. Whether you acknowledge it or not, he took all the control away from you, even if you think you let him. Your responses weren’t normal because the situation wasn’t normal or fair. At all.’

She didn’t answer because she had no words. She realised, belatedly, she was shivering. Uncontrollably. She hated everything Luke was saying. She hated it because she knew, in a deep and dark part of herself, that he was right.

And she couldn’t stand that thought. Couldn’t bear to think so much of her life had been wasted, used. She’d been such a pathetic victim.

‘I’m sorry,’ Luke said softly. ‘I’m sorry for what happened to you.’

She didn’t answer. Words wouldn’t come. She blinked hard and turned around. ‘So my terms, right?’

Luke hesitated, his gaze sweeping over her. ‘Do you really think this is a good—’

‘My terms, you said—’ she cut across him, her voice hard ‘—didn’t you? So why are you still trying to take control?’

He stilled. ‘I’m not.’

‘No?’ She took a step towards him, amazed at how angry she felt. Not at Luke, not at herself for once. Yet she still felt it, that hot tide washing over her, obliterating any rational thought. ‘All right, then. Here are my terms. Strip.’

He blinked. ‘Strip?’

She nodded, her jaw bunched. ‘Strip, Luke.’

For a second he looked as if he was going to object. Refuse. Aurelie put her hands on her hips, her eyebrows raised in angry challenge. She could hear her breathing coming hard and fast.