“It doesn’t hurt,” she whispered. “What doesn’t?” “You touching me.” I fought the urge to rear back—only decades with horses kept me from doing so. The training that kept me from reacting strongly when I got knocked sideways. “You thought it would?” “It always does. Whenever someone touches me. It…it’s like it grates against my skin.” I bit back a million different curses. “Tell me if it’s too much.” She shook her head back and forth. “It’s not.”
