Fall from India Place (On Dublin Street 4)

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You just did something to calm yourself,” he said, switching his gaze from the computer to her face. “What?”

Was it her imagination, or did one of those moving lines on the screen jump at his question? “I just . . . pictured a difficult dance sequence.”

He nodded as if her explanation made perfect sense. “That’s good. Do you think you can do that when we demonstrate it to the watchmakers? Exhibit a relaxation response at will?”

She blinked, horror striking her in a wave. He gave a lopsided grin as if he’d read her mind. “You’ll only have on the wrist mechanism. Every stitch of clothing in place. I told you we’re just gathering baseline data for you today,” he murmured, his accented, deep voice the equivalent of a caress on her cheek.

“I think I probably could,” Lin said dubiously. If she could calm her responses while standing nearly naked here in front of Kam as he probed her most hidden, subtle responses, surely she could do so fully clothed with only a wrist sensor.

“Good,” he picked up the last electrode. “I have to move aside the towel now.”

He stood in front of the computer screen so she couldn’t see it, but she was quite sure all those various lines spiked a mile high at his words.

“Where?” she asked, meaning where was he going to place this incendiary electrode.

He held her gaze and answered by placing his fingertips on his jeans just to the left of his fly. Her eyes sprung wide. Things looked very full in his crotch area. He wasn’t as immune to touching her as he’d led her to believe.

“There’s not a pulse point there, is there?” she asked shakily.

He dropped his hand. “An extremely important one, on the femoral artery.”

She nodded, her mouth too dry to speak. Still clutching the towel between her breasts, she tried to move aside the fabric in as modest a fashion as possible, but the wires on her arm made her clumsy. Her sex was still tender and sensitive from their intense lovemaking last night, but in that moment, the slightly abraded sensation only served to excite her more, increasing the tingling, tight feeling.

“I’ve got it,” he assured gruffly, crouching so that his face was at the level of her pelvis. Lin stared out the windows on to an azure, sun-infused Lake Michigan, but saw little. Her awareness was all being used up on attending to the feeling of Kam’s hand sweeping aside the fabric of the towel, exposing her naked hip. A flap of material still hung over her genitals, but she felt cool air against her pussy.

Cold against hot.

He moved his fingers over that sensitive, naked patch of skin just to the side of her pussy, searching for the artery. A wave of dizziness struck her. Or was it lust? She had a sudden, vivid image of him moving aside the flap of the towel and dipping his tongue between her labia. She recalled in perfect detail how expert he’d been at that particular skill as well.

Arousal stabbed at her. She barely stopped herself from moaning.

“Lin.”

She opened her clamped eyelids with effort. He looked up at her, his face just inches from her pussy. His nostrils flared slightly.

“Are you sore? From last night?”

“A little,” she admitted through numb lips. Had he been reading her mind?

He nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m as much to blame as you are,” she said in a hushed tone.

He blinked as if coming out of a trance.

“Maybe you should think of the dance,” he said so quietly, she almost thought she’d imagined what he said. How mortifying. He knew. He knew that her body was zinging with arousal. She shut her eyes. He knew what he was doing to her. He wasn’t catching her scent, was he? she thought with rising panic.

Think of the dance. Despite her vulnerability in that moment, she valued his advice. Disciplining her mind and body had never before failed her. She pictured herself taking the subtle, difficult poses, heard the music . . . lost herself to it. She knew the moment when he attached the electrode so near her naked sex, but she’d bought a little distance for herself with her focus. Even when she felt the fabric of the towel fall back in place, she continued to meditate on the dance.

“You can sit down on the couch now. They’re all attached.” She opened her eyes. Kam stood before her. He put his hand on her free arm, guiding her down to a sitting position, mindful of the attached wires. She self-consciously arranged the towel, making sure she was modestly covered.

“What do we do now?” she asked him when he sat down on the couch, a cushion and the two computers between them.

“I’m going to show you some images on the computer and then ask you a series of questions. All of these things are designed to evoke emotional and physiological responses. Don’t try to control yourself for this part.” He told her pointedly. “That’s very important. I’m going to ask you to evoke a relaxation response later, which fortunately, you seem to have a talent for. But don’t relax now. Don’t think. Just react to the stimuli. Okay?”

Lin nodded. At least he wasn’t going to be touching her during the process. That was something.

For the next forty-five minutes, he showed her a series of photographs and short videos that were clearly designed to evoke a range of emotions from anxiety to outrage to fondness to fear. Afterward, he asked her a number of questions, some of which were boring and mundane, and some of which did everything from embarrass her to make her laugh to cause her to blush. It was anxiety provoking, yes, but she recognized the universality of the stimuli. They were meant for any human test subject, not just her. That knowledge went a long way to calm her panic.