Page 16 of Dangerous

I bit down on my quivering lip until I tasted blood, reducing those memories to nothing more than a dark space in my consciousness. My gut twisted and I focused on breathing deeply again until the bout of anxiety passed.

Sure, talking about past trauma is good for the soul—no one knows that better than a psychologist. But I’d always known, with every bone in my body, that once I punctured that abscess, what would come pouring out would be dark and hideous. Right now, I needed to focus on forming and executing a plan to get out of my forced marriage—not digging in painful memories.

If I wanted to avoid my family, then I’d need to get further away than their network could reach, which would mean getting out of Great Britain. Getting a visa would be hard without Blaine noticing, but with the right to free travel within Europe, that didn’t have to be a problem.

Which just left me with the issue of getting out of London and away from the Steels.

Right now, Blaine had zero reason to trust me, which the set of rules on the fridge so clearly displayed. He would undoubtedly have some measures ready to keep me in the house, and I had no way of knowing what or where they were—apart from the two goons who had followed us from the hotel, and who I’d seen take up a stance on each side of our front door. As efficient at keeping enemies out as they were at keeping me in.

But if Blaine maybe trusted me, at least a little…

My heart thumped uneasily and I pressed a hand to my chest and frowned. Scary as the thought was, perhaps getting closer to my new husband wasn’t the worst of ideas.

So far, the way I’d acted around him had been more resemblant of a teenager than a grown woman. A horny teenager.

Sure, I hadn’t exactly been in the best state of mind, but if I wanted him to trust me enough to afford me some slack on the rules, I’d likely need him to respect me. Yelling at him and blaming him for everything that had gone wrong was not going to get me far.

So that was it—I had a plan, even if it was still a bit rough around the edges. And the first step was to gain Blaine’s respect. Get closer to him.

Might have been a lot easier if he wasn’t such a dick.

Nine

Blaine

“I’m hungry.”

The sound of Mira’s voice ripped me out of my brooding with a start I barely managed to camouflage with a flex of my shoulders and arms. Seemed the bird was pretty stealthy. And clearly not used to knocking.

I rolled over on my bed to face the door, where my new wife was standing, both arms wrapped around her midsection. I cocked an eyebrow at her. Not that I’d studied the subject in depth at any point, but it seemed like feeding her wouldn’t fall under my husbandly duties.

“…And there’s nothing in the fridge but beer and hot sauce. I’d order a pizza, but who knows if it’ll come with a complimentary hit man? Or poisonous mushrooms?”

Oh. Right. Girl had a point, even if her sarcastic tone made her feelings on the rules I’d laid out for her clear. At least she wasn’t shouting. “I’ll order us something. And I’ll get Rob to help you with planning out the household shopping tomorrow.”

Her hazel eyes narrowed a bit behind her glasses. “Who’s Rob?”

“My righthand man. He’s in charge of security. You’ll have to go through him when you set up everything you need to run the house. You can order deliveries from the supermarkets, but you’ll have to make sure you only order from places where we have someone working. Rob will be able to tell you more. If you need help with cleaning and all that, he should be able to get you in contact with the woman who cleans for my father. Anything you can’t buy online you’ll need to arrange for one of the guys to go get.” Would you look at that—Blaine Steel discussing household crap like a responsible adult. I briefly wondered if this what what my father had had in mind when he said married life would do me good.

“I’m sorry… you seem to be under the illusion thatIwill be taking care of the household?”

There was something in Mira’s voice that made me hesitate for just a second. Her tone had shifted from pure sarcasm to holding some sort of warning. Then I frowned and shook it off. If she wasn’t happy, it wasn’t my problem.

“Yeah. What else would you do? Paint your toenails?”

She blinked. Twice. “My job. You may recall I have one of those.”

Was she really that naïve, or was she just baiting me? “You don’t anymore. It’d be too dangerous, and we don’t have the manpower to have someone follow you around all day.”

From the look on her face, she really had been that naive. A pained look of shock crossed her pretty features, and her hands fisted by her sides as her arms fell from their protective pose crossed over her midsection.

“You can’t do that.”

I frowned as the light from my bedside lamp caught the fresh shine in her eyes. Were those… tears? Based on our previous interactions, I’d been unsurprised at anger and shouting, buttears?

“I’m sorry, it’s not up for negotiation.” The weird thing was that, as I looked at her standing there in my doorway so shocked and upset, Iwasactually sorry. Sorry that those tears were there because of me. Which was mildly ironic, for a man who spread pain and misery for a living.

Then her expression darkened and her nostrils flared, the look of pain wiped away.

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