Page 14 of Dr. Danger

Mr. Crutch stands, holding out his hand to Darren. "Yes, I'm here to ensure Miss Weston's affairs are in order."

Darren looks at Mr. Crutch's hand for a moment, not shaking it and he swallows. "I see," he says, his voice tight. ”Well, there’s been a change of plans. Miss Weston won’t be needing your services today. You can see yourself out.”

His anger simmers and I worry he’s going to blow.

"Miss Weston has scheduled a meeting," Mr. Crutch blurts, his tone firm. "I’m not leaving until—"

Darren loses his temper, his face contorting with rage. He grabs the lawyer by the arm, his grip ironclad. "Take your morbid little papers and fuck off," he growls, hauling Mr. Crutch towards the lobby.

"Darren, stop!" I cry, rushing after them, but Darren’s unstoppable. He shoves the lawyer through the door and drags him to his car. Mr. Crutch tries to protest, but Darren doesn’t let up. He tosses the lawyer into the driver's seat, slams the door shut, and gives a wheel a hard kick. The force of it jolts Mr. Crutch, who looks both terrified and furious as he starts the engine and speeds off.

Breathing heavily, Darren turns around. His eyes are wild, his chest heaving. And there we all are, standing on the porch, watching him in stunned silence—me, Malva, the butler, and a few other members of the staff.

I feel a mix of shock and something I can't identify. For a moment, no one moves. The staff exchange uneasy glances, unsure of what to do. Malva steps forward, her expression a mix of anger and frustration.

”What the hell was that?" she hisses, her voice edged with accusation. ”Did you see what I saw? He’s freaking volatile.”

I don’t trust myself to speak.

”Everybody get back to work," I say, my voice firmer now. ”I need a moment with Dr. Deathweather.”

The staff scatters, Malva giving Darren one last spiteful look before following the others inside. Darren and I are left alone on the porch, the silence between us heavy and charged.

"Listen," I begin, my voice softening, "I appreciate your concern, but…”

I trail off when he looks at me, meeting my gaze with an intensity that makes my heart skip a beat. He’s thoroughly pissed. Uh-oh.

7.

Darren

I push Avon back inside the lobby, my anger boiling. "What the hell were you thinking, even considering writing an inheritance?" I growl.

She meets my gaze, her eyes wide. "It's just in case something happens to me," she says, trying to sound calm, but her voice trembles.

”Nothing’s going to happen to you," I snap, my chest tightening. The thought alone makes something shatter inside me, something breaking beyond repair. Before I realize it, my hands clasp her face, pushing her up against the wall. "I won't allow it."

I can feel the staff watching us, their whispers filling the air, but I don’t care. Avon gasps and pants, her chest heaving as I lift her up. Without another thought, I barge into the sitting room, slamming the double doors behind us. Easing her down on the couch, I get on top of her, my lips crashing onto hers in a violent kiss.

Too violent. I need to be careful and I’m not.

Her taste overwhelms me, and for a moment, my mind goes blank. The intensity of it is almost unbearable, the need to claim her, to make her understand that she can’t leave me. But then, as my hands grip her waist and feel her fragile form beneath me, I realize what I'm doing. I pull back, breathless, and see Avon’s face flushed red, her pulse running mad underneath my hands.

I don’t want to do this to her. I don’t want to use her in this way when she's this sick, this vulnerable. "Avon," I murmur, my voice hoarse, "I can't... not like this.”

”Why?”

”Because. You’re weak, I’m strong. You’re my patient. I’m your doctor.”

”I want you.”

My eyes flare to her, a mixture of heat, need and agitation slamming in me. ”You don’t want me. You idolize me, that’s all. It’s natural for patients to bond with their doctors…”

”Then bond with me, won’t you?,” Avon whispers. She pulls me back down, her mouth locking over mine, silencing any protest I might have. Her hands clutch at my shirt, desperate, pleading, and I feel my resistance crumbling. The need to protect her, to save her, wars with the raw desire coursing through me.

Our kiss deepens, and I realize I can't let her go. Not now. Not ever. Why did she have to be like this? So tempting, so impossible to resist. I’m crossing boundaries, boundaries meant to protect the more vulnerable-in this case Avon-but I don’t have it in me to stop.

”You’re going to be sore,” I warn against her skin, peeling her clothes off of her before doing the same with mine. ”And I’m not giving you pain meds.”

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