Page 9 of Runaway Hearts: Seduced by Danger

“Okay,” I say.

He climbs into my car, and my heart pounds so hard it might rip out of my chest. The air is thick and impossible to breathe. But my fingers don’t tingle. I try to stay calm, taking deep, slow breaths to calm mynerves, focusing on the texture of the soft seat beneath my butt and the sticky leather of the steering wheel.

This man needs help, and it’s up to me to provide it. Isn’t that what being a good person is all about? To help no matter who needs it.

I need to be a good person to feel better about myself.

“Where are you going?” I ask as I steer us back onto the road.

“The end game is British Columbia.”

What are the odds of me finding someone who needs a ride to the same destination?

“Okay.”

My mind envisions all sorts of scenarios. My best friend Arietta’s voice is in my head telling me how stupid I am to allow a stranger in my car because, you know… Stranger Danger. But she isn’t here, so I must navigate my thoughts alone. She said to have wild adventures. I’m getting to it.

The chance this could positively impact him or me makes it worth the risk. But his aura tastes like a hazardous adventure.

“You know,” he says, breaking the silence, “it’s nice of you to pick me up. People usually worry about picking up strangers.” There’s an undercurrent of disdain in his voice.

A weak laugh escapes as I reply, “Ha... It’s been a long time since I had someone to share the road with. I don’t know what to say.”

The man turns his head to me, whispering a thank you, and the color of his eyes stuns me. The deep green exterior is mesmerizing, brightening with flecks of gold sparkling in the sunlight up to the pupil. It’s like a summer sunrise on the ocean.

The weight of his gaze pushes against me, squeezing my chest with a delicious ache. His eyes seem to see past all superficial layers and into the depths of my being.

He cracks an arrogant smirk, and I find myself lost in the depths of those green pools once again.

“What do you do for a living?” His voice is a sugary river, flowing with a golden warmth that wraps around me.

“I’m an emergency nurse.”

His grin fades as his eyes widen in surprise at my profession. “That’s... interesting,” he mumbles.

I nod. “It’s a rollercoaster, but saving lives, facing the unexpected... it’s different.”

His eyebrows raise. “Sounds intense. Do you ever get a break from the craziness?”

I chuckle. “Does chaos ever take a breather?”

He leans in a bit closer. “Fair enough. Must be tough.”

Eyes fixed on the road, I gulp, captivated by how he’s tuned into our conversation. “It has its moments, for sure. But enough about me. What’s your daily torture?” I ask, hoping to shift the focus away.

He grins, his eyes holding a masked sparkle. It sings about years of not letting people see through him, something I understand. “I work for my father in sales and distribution. Not as interesting as saving lives, but someone’s gotta do the dirty work.”

We share a laugh until the cloak in his eyes hesitates to lift, and he rolls his tongue in his mouth. “I’m on vacation for the next three weeks,” he adds, dragging each syllable out in a low purr.

“Me too!” I say this with enthusiasm, my words tumbling in a rush.

He smirked at me, and oddly, an unusual warmth pooled into the pit of my stomach.

That man makes me hotter than should be allowed. I want to touch him.

He runs his hand through his black shoulder-length hair, giving him a rugged, untamed appearance, and I notice a tattoo on his left hand. It’s a skillful black dragon wrapping around his wrist in a magnificent work of art. The intricate details and bold lines are mesmerizing. As he talks and gestures with his hand, the dragon seems to come to life as if it’s a part of him. It’s a powerful and mysterious image that adds to the mystery of the man.

Have I seen this tattoo somewhere? It looks strangely familiar.

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