Page 15 of Runaway Hearts: Seduced by Danger

My face heats up while I search his eyes for a glimmer of disapproval, but there’s only slight desperation as he bites down on his lower lip. An involuntary dampness pools between my legs at the hard ridges of his thigh underneath my ass.

But I’m surely not his type. Just a five-foot-six brunette with some extra pounds. I’m average at best. Hot criminal guys prefer hot, thin chicks, not ordinary girls.

Grinding on him would only be teasing me.

Come on, Marianne, get it together.

My fingers glide toward the shard I had felt earlier. The man grips my free arm and squeezes it tight as I remove the intruder with the tweezers. His head rests on my shoulder, his labored breathing against my collarbone. It must be painful.

Good for you, sexy criminal!

“Did it come out?”

“Yes,” I reply, offering the offending glass, now bloody, in my palm.

“Damn… I didn’t know I could live with that inside of me,” he says, taking it between his fingers.

“This has the power to kill you in a few days. If the cut doesn’t, an infection might. The glass may have damaged your abdomen by piercing the side tissue—”

His eyes widen. “What?”

“The piece of glass made several small cuts inside of you. You need stitches and antibiotics.”

“But you don’t have any in your magic box.”

My voice fills with worry as I rummage through my first aid kit. “No. I only have sticky stitches.”

He has an enigmatic air, serious as the Pope. This conversation is the weirdest I’ve ever had. Still, I’m comfortable. I put sticky stitches on his wound, applied a nice dry bandage, and held everything together with my special adhesive tape.

He shifts in his seat, and I squirm off before he pushes me. When he gets up from his improvised bench, he drags his T-shirt back on, stretching the muscles of his midriff. My eyes slide over his idyllic morphology, and I breathe faster.

I’m on a stress roller coaster. But I give him my biggest innocent smile. A corner of his lip curves up, and he steps closer until we’re only inches apart. I want to step back but find myself pinned against the wall.

Strangely, I don’t lose it.

Our noses are so close we’re inhaling the same air, and I lock my gaze on his. He’s handsome, with a chiseled jawline hidden under a five o’clock shadow and a straight nose with a slight bump in the middle, likely from a fight. Up close, he’s even more incredibly handsome. My heart bolts as the man takes another step forward.

The one step my senses needed to overload. My breathing quickens, and he grins.

A familiar tingling in my ankles alerts me I will melt if he keeps staring at me this way. I imagine myself becoming a puddle of goo on the ground with a sign nearby requesting a mop in the restroom. Stranger Danger frames me with his arms, leaning on the wall.

Shit, he’s going to kiss me! Backup plan, fast! Find something, anything!

“This will stay between us, won’t it?” he murmurs against the shell of my ear.

“Sure…” I try to appear as naïve as I can.

He blinks and moves away. He doesn’t want to kiss me; he’s bullying me, which is very appropriate under the circumstances.

I’m not his type.

As we walk back to my car, the thought of him not coming with me makes my heart ache.

But the dangerousness that oozed from his pores minutes ago is a gazillion light years away from Eric’s wholesome and friendly vibe when I first met him. And I catch myself in a strange, calm state I have never experienced.

He reminds me of Seito.

He’s a magnetic force, drawing me closer and closer to him despite all the warning signs. In my head, I hear Nina’s voice shouting, “Red flags!”

---