BLIND: A Mastermind Novel (35 page)

Like a newly born fawn, she walked jaggedly, her limbs languorous as he led her deeper into the house. She’d never been this far in his home and her curiosity awakened a bit of her drifting senses.

The flowery fragrance intensified with the sound of babbling water under a low hum of machinery. “I hear water,
”
she announced.

“Very good. That’s because I’ve arranged to give you a bath. I think you’ve earned it after the last hour.
”
He took two more steps. “It’s a tall jetted tub, so I’ll help you in. The water’s heated.”

She hesitated when he gave her fingers a tug.

“Ms. Farrow?”

Her lips pursed. This had never happened before. “Um
…
Before I get in the water…I need to…”

Silence.

She waited for him to comprehend what she was inelegantly trying to bring to his attention.

“Of course.
”
He cleared his throat. “Right this way.”

She followed his lead through the house. Winding turns disoriented her and her steps became sluggish. “Here we are.
”
A door opened and he escorted her inside, her feet brushing over cool tile, the polished sort without grout lines.

He turned her and she stood dumbly as the swift flutter of tissue unraveling from the roll filled the room. Wadded up paper filled her hand. In a trance, she waited for him to step away.

When he made no move and her body demanded prompt release, she whimpered. “I’ll be right out.”

The silence turned heavy. “My back is turned. I can run the faucet to drown out my presence, if that will help.”

She frowned, the pressure in her bladder making it difficult to speak. “I need privacy.”

He cleared his throat. “I’m afraid this is all the privacy I can offer, Ms. Farrow. It’s only human nature.” The soft rush of water from the faucet masked the silence and added to her uncomfortable predicament.

Was he afraid she’d snoop? “I won’t peek.”

“I’m afraid not.
”
His words hit her like a bucket of ice, reality’s cold truth breaking her sense of comfort.

He didn’t trust her. It hurt. She trusted him so profoundly and he couldn’t trust her enough to leave her alone for two minutes. “I can’t go in front of someone.”

“Would you like me to get your clothes and Pennyworth?”

Her lips parted as she sucked in a breath. Anger at his easy solution, which would cut their night short, sliced through her. “No, I’d like you to leave me alone for a minute.
”
If she didn’t sit soon, she was going to embarrass herself.

“Sit on the seat, Ms. Farrow, and stop being so modest. I assure you I’m not watching.”

Out of time and without physical choice, she rapidly dropped to the seat. Her muscles reflexively slackened as the humiliating tinkling broke the silence.

He’d never upset her until that very moment. Feeling outmaneuvered and deceived, she scowled into the darkness. Mouth tight, she cleaned herself up and slowly stood, refusing any silent offer of help, should he offer one. The blindfold made it impossible to tell.

“Would you like to wash your hands?”

Nodding tightly, she allowed his palm to hover at her lower back as he directed her toward the sink. He placed her fingers on the cool lip of a counter as the slushing sound of water continued to fill the room.

Blindly, her palm patted the surface until she located the soap. She silently cleaned her hands and felt for the faucet, shutting the water off.

He escorted her back to the room. “Wait here. I want to grab the wine.
”

“No.” Her body shook with disbelief, anger, and the sting of her stripped vanity.

“Ms. Farrow?”

“I’d like my clothes.”

Silence.

“Please,
”
she insisted, her voice a quiver away from tears.

“Scarlet…”

“I wouldn’t have looked,
”
she snapped. “You don’t trust me at all.”

He remained quiet.

“May I please have my clothes? I want to go home.”

“I didn’t watch you, Scarlet.”

It didn’t matter. All she’d asked for was a minute of trust after weeks of granting him blind faith.

His voice was low. “I don’t want you to leave yet,
”
he said slowly.

She’d felt so close to him only minutes ago, so certain they were moving forward. This unwelcome step backward had her mind in turmoil. He’d taken advantage of the situation.

“Either give me my clothes or I’ll find them myself—
without
the blindfold.”

“Scarlet—”

“You humiliated me
.
Please
.
”
Tears choked her. In a small voice she begged. “Don’t make me ask again.”

His reply was quiet. “I’m sorry.”

He might regret that she was upset, but she didn’t believe he’d act differently if the situation were repeated. His apology didn’t change the fact that after everything, he still didn’t trust her.

His steps returned. “Put your arms forward.
”
Her bra slid over her shoulders and she brushed his touch away as he attempted to fasten the clasp. She hated that her body still responded to his nearness, prickling from the slightest contact, even after he’d hurt her.

As he helped her dress, her mind replayed the day. So many emotions packed into such a few hours. She recalled the song he’d chosen for her, the subtle warnings of the singer, warnings she couldn’t align with him until that very moment. The truth was, when Mr. Stone hurt her feelings, it hurt badly.

Why was he so afraid to expose himself to her when she’d disclosed all to him? Her brow pinched beneath the blindfold. Something had happened to this man. His aversion to being seen went beyond a need for privacy. She detected his underlying fear, an insecurity that didn’t suit the strong, capable man he was with her normally. But that’s exactly what his behavior was—fear.

There was nothing else keeping this blindfold between them but his worry that she might somehow react negatively to whatever he was hiding. No one was perfect. If he could accept her flaws, she could accept his. She didn’t care about the packaging. It was the man on the inside she wanted to be close to.

Despite her upset, she needed to get through to him. “It doesn’t matter,
”
she whispered, lightly grasping his hands as they buttoned her jeans.

“I beg your pardon?”

Her head slowly shook. “What you look like, it doesn’t matter to me. There’s nothing you could show me that would change my feelings for you, Mr. Stone. I’d never hurt you.”

He was quiet for a long moment. “That’s not why you’re blindfolded.”

He was lying. If he refused to be honest there was nothing she could say. They were already treading delicate ground and trying to get an inflexible object to bend often ended with broken pieces.

She took a different approach. “Tell me your first name.
”
If he could just give her something personal—

“No.”

Her face lowered. “I’ve given you everything you’ve asked for and you refuse to give me anything.”

A derisive sound pierced the air. “I haven’t given you
anything
?”

“Nothing of meaning.”

“Really?
”
His tone was affronted.

“What’s the value of things when I can’t have your name? You’ve showered me with luxurious gifts, when all I’m asking for is something you grant everyone else that crosses your path. I just want your name, to know what color your eyes are and to see how they change when they look into mine.”

Though he remained silent, his breathing accelerated. He was irritated and she didn’t savor possibly making this powerful man feel cornered.

“Perhaps you should have put that in your letter then, Ms. Farrow. I’ve given you everything you’ve asked for, uninhibited adoration, attention, intellectual conversation, and pleasure. I promised you fourteen encounters, but nothing more. My name is mine and I’ll share it when I’m ready.”

“You’re forgetting one important thing. You’ve also given me the courage to increase my standards. This blindfold is a wall between us and it doesn’t have to be.”

“If you intend to revoke your trust in me, say so now and we’ll end this.” He breathed raggedly as he waited for a response. “The blindfold stays. Accept that or this…this will be our last encounter.”

All windows of compassion slammed shut as a cool chill crept up her spine. “I want my coat.
”
Who was he to speak to her like that? Sh
e
might accept his conditions, but she drew the line at ultimatums.

“Scarlet…”

Although dressed, she felt more exposed than she had all night. “Goodnight, Mr. Stone.”

With clipped steps he walked away. The door snapped open, introducing a cool breeze to the room. He returned with her coat and slipped it over her shoulders. A throat cleared in the distance. Pennyworth.

As he fumbled with her buttons, she swatted his hands away and took over the task, not having much success. “Mr. Pennyworth will see you out.”

With that he walked away, leaving her desolate and confused, her anger subsiding into panic.

“Ms. Farrow?”

Her head tilted in Pennyworth’s direction as he took her arm, slowly escorting her to the car.

When she was buckled inside and they were on their way, trepidation choked her. She wanted to rip off the damn blindfold and race back to him, forcing him to confront whatever held him at bay.

Music clicked on interrupting her chain of reckless thoughts. They never listened to music in the car, but perhaps the driver had picked up on her distress and this was his attempt to offer her privacy, should she want to cry.

“You can remove the blindfold now, Ms. Farrow,
”
he said after they’d driven a ways.

Sliding the covering off her eyes, she blinked, her cheeks moist and tingling under the press of cool air. Glancing out the window, she stared at the unfamiliar landmarks rushing by, coming to recognize some of them the closer they drew to her house. But there would always be the mysterious part of the route she was never permitted to see, the portion that led to
him
.

“Tell me something, Pennyworth. If I put a gun to your head would you take me to him
without
the blindfold?”

He chuckled. “You wouldn’t do that, Ms. Farrow.”

“How do you know?”

His grin flashed in the rearview mirror. “Do you
own
a gun?”

“No, but I could get one.”

“I highly doubt you would.”

She tsked and rolled her eyes. “Just answer the question, Pennyworth.”

He sighed, his smile turning considerate. “Mr. Stone has been very good to me. He’s my friend, Ms. Farrow. I’d find it very hard to go against his wishes. I wouldn’t want to betray my promise to a friend.”

Sighing, she crossed her arms and admitted, “Then I won’t shoot you.”

“Good to know.” The rest of the ride passed in silence.

Unrequited wanting had her questioning her sanity. What if it never ended? What  if the end was just an end? She didn’t know if her life could tolerate such an unsolved mystery of never knowing who he was. What if
this
was the end?