Page 8 of Temptation and Tyranny

I gave him the building name, and he turned his car around, heading back towards the direction of my apartment.

“Does he drink often?”

“He usually doesn’t, but when I broke up with him he took it really hard. He even lost his job.”

Cooper stroked his chin, one hand on the wheel. He replaced his large hand on his thigh. “He has nothing to lose, then. That makes for a dangerous man. You should get a restraining order.”

“His dad is good friends with the head of the citypolice department. They look the other way a lot. He got caught drunk driving while at university and his dad managed to get him out of it. I’m sure there are other things, too. I didn’t date him long enough to find out the full extent of his…proclivities.”

“What’s his name?” Cooper’s eyebrow raised slightly, almost if he was amused again.

“Tomas McCroy. Why?”

“No reason,” he responded, pulling the car smoothly into a street side parking spot.

“Thanks for the ride,” I said, reaching out to open the car door.

Cooper quickly pressed a button on his side of the dashboard and the doors locked.

I looked back at him, horror freezing my features.

“Relax, I’m not going to abduct you. I don’t do that. I mean, I know someone who might—”

He stopped himself, but then gave me another huge grin. His teeth were white and shiny, something you didn’t see a lot here in Paris among the sea of smokers.

He had a nice smile. Charming, really.

“I can handle myself—”

Cooper ran his hands through his blonde hair, and for just a moment, the gesture made him appear like a young boy instead of the strong man that towered before me.

“Miss Prescott. Look at the state of your hands.”

I rubbed my palms on my dress absentmindedly, and then winced when the fabric scratched the raw skin.

Cooper sighed, and then leaned over me. For asecond, I thought he was going to make a move, and I held my breath, heart racing. But instead, he opened the glove box and grabbed a first aid kit.

“You keep a first aid kit in your car?”

A wry smile crept up on his face. “It’s always good to be prepared.”

As he sorted through the plastic container, I stole a glance at his hands. They were entirely masculine, from his knuckles to his too-short fingernails. There was a bit of grease underneath them, and I instantly wondered about his line of work.

“What do you do for a living?” I asked.

He stopped rummaging through the bandages and looked at me. “Getting to know your patient better, are we?”

I instantly flushed, but Cooper just grinned. He had a dimple on the right side of his cheek, but not on the other. The asymmetry only seemed to enhance his attractiveness.

“Importing and exporting.” He went back to the kit, pulling out some antibacterial cream. “Hold out your hands.”

I obeyed, and he took my left hand in his. The second our skin made contact, I felt a sizzle of electricity running throughout my body. I held still, trying not to react. Cooper’s gaze caught mine, and the air crackled with shared recognition.

Instead of commenting on the tension, he gently placed the ointment on the bandages and gingerly wrapped my palms.

“That should do it,” he said, putting the supplies back in the first aid kit. Instead of replacing it back in the glove compartment, he put the kit in the middleconsole, and I found myself disappointed he wouldn’t be leaning over me again. I had momentarily forgotten he was a patient, and off limits.

He opened his side of the car door.

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