"I can't help it," I said with a rueful smile. "I think too much as it is, which too easily lends itself to worrying." My hands moved of their own volition, now, the rest of me attuned to his eyes and voice. I dimly realized I might be staring, but I didn't look away. "Is the irony in that I am usually paid to touch, or in that I am touching you in a fashion different than the kind people would expect of me with you in a locked room?" I asked, my lips curving up in a small smirk.