Page 36 of The Retreat
‘I’m supposed to put the blindfold back on, right?’ Talia said. ‘So you can lead us back?’
‘I don’t think there’s anyone to see if you don’t,’ Imogen told her. ‘Pretty sure everyone else is long gone.’
Talia mulled it over. ‘No, it’s fine. You got us here. I trust that you’ll get us back.’ She started to tie the blindfold back on.
Imogen watched her in mild astonishment at the choice to let herself be led back. But she said nothing. And then Talia took her by the arm and off they went, Imogen leading the way.
Twenty-Three
The forest was louder when you couldn’t see.
Leaves whispered overhead, branches crackled underfoot, and birds communicated with each other about the possibility of some slap and tickle. And beneath it all, the steady sound of their own footsteps. Talia’s slightly heavier, more deliberate, and Imogen’s quick and skittish.
The blindfold itched against Talia’s cheekbones. She resisted the urge to rip the bugger off. She hated feeling so vulnerable. Worse, she hated giving up control of her direction.
‘You can either take off the blindfold, or you can trust me to get us back,’ Imogen had declared, a laughable idea. Put herself in Imogen’s hands?
But Talia hadn’t had a choice. If Celeste spotted her with her blindfold off, it wouldn’t be good. She had to let the woman who could see take the lead. Because trying to lead without the use of her eyes was, even for Talia, ridiculous. She was really putting the ‘freak’ in ‘control freak’ today.
Now, Imogen’s hand was on her arm, guiding her gently but firmly back to the group. Talia had expected to feel tense the whole way through. She expected to hate the powerlessness, the vulnerability. But instead, something strange was happening.
Her senses were firing in directions she didn’t expect. She was aware of everything: the brush of a fern against her calf, the drop in temperature as they moved into deeper shade, the sound of Imogen’s breath when she paused to orient them again.
But slowly, all that dropped away. Her focus narrowed.
To Imogen’s hand. To the shape of it wrapped around her forearm. Light but steady. To the way she warned her, low-voiced, about a rock coming up or a slope to the left. The faint trace of something sweet and citrus on her skin, maybe soap or shampoo. A tiny breath of heat each time she leaned in.
Talia felt herself tuning in. More than she wanted to. More than she liked.
She let out a breath through her nose, trying to clear it all away. ‘You still sure this is the right way?’
‘I’m sure,’ Imogen said quietly, confidently.
Talia’s foot caught on something, and Imogen’s grip tightened, just for a second. It made Talia’s stomach flip inexplicably.
What the hell was this? This awareness of the softness of Imogen’s voice, the steadiness in her hand, the little hesitations when she had to make a choice. And how did it feel OK walking like this? Blind. Dependent.
No. Not dependent. Trusting.
***
‘You can take it off now,’ Imogen told her, and Talia quickly pulled off the blindfold just as Imogen’s hand dropped from her arm.
Talia was very nearly sorry to have her vision back because the first thing she saw was the assembled group—colleagues and their partners—all looking various shades of unimpressed.
‘There she is!’ yelled Marcus, as though every eyeball wasn’t already on them.
Talia opened her mouth to explain, but the words caught in her throat. What could she say?Sorry we’re late, I freaked out because I can’t relinquish control for five bloody minutes. Who’s hungry?
Probably best to stay quiet.
‘Well,’ Celeste said with a tight smile, breaking the silence, ‘glad to see you’ve found your way back.’
Talia flushed, the heat rushing to her face. She could feel Imogen standing beside her, still. She was probably just as embarrassed as Talia was.
Rhona folded her arms. ‘You’re lucky we didn’t have to send a search party.’
Before Talia could open her mouth, Imogen cleared her throat.
