He moved closer and put his hand on my cheek. I wondered afterwards: just how obvious had it been? And did everyone know? When Dekker stood in front of me and simply refused to move his six foot four, two hundred pound body out of my way, was he guessing? Or taking a chance, not really caring what I was and what I wanted, gambling that I wouldn’t go crying to the police afterwards? Whatever the reason, he was in my kitchen and in my way, wearing a smile that said “What you want doesn’t really matter.
