In her fantasy, she imagined surrendering to a dominating Jericho. She'd liked it as a fantasy. There was something wild and hedonistic about the idea of allowing herself to be taken over by a big, strong, handsome man, as if she had no say in the matter and so no responsibility for making love with him: Why, it just happened! What could I do? I was helpless! But in reality, it hadn't been that way. It had been confusing and utterly frightening to have no say and no control, like a rag doll wielded by a careless child. It was like not being a person at all.