Page 2 of Dangerous

“Why are you here, Blaine?” I kept my tone as light and gentle as I could, knowing that if I pushed too hard, he’d probably shut down, and I’d get treated to the delightful return of the cocky bastard who’d first sauntered into my small office.

“Shit, I don’t know.” He flexed his hands and leaned forward again, grabbing his knees as if looking for some anchor. The tension vibrating off him was practically palpable. “My brother went to jail and it was really fucked up. He didn’t do shit, and I found out… I lost control. I nearly killed…” He looked up then, and straight into my eyes, and the torment in his gaze nearly knocked the breath out of my lungs.

It lasted for maybe a fifth of a second.

I could practicallyseethe emotional wall slamming down the moment he realized he’d let me get even a sneak peak into whatever pain had made him desperate enough to seek out a therapist. Every part of his body tensed just a fraction, even as his face slid into a sardonic smile.

“Blaine…”

He let his gaze slide lazily up and down my body. “But then again, sometimes losing control is good. Isn’t it, love?”

I gritted my teeth. I had been so close to seeing something real, but here we were, back to the arrogant bastard from before. It was funny, really. I’d known him for all of twenty minutes, and I was already sure that if I’d met him under any other circumstance than as a patient, I would not have walked away—I would have run. But hewasmy patient, and it was my duty to try to help him as best I could.

“You’re using sexual innuendos to avoid talking about what’s bothering you. I’m sure it’s worked well for you so far, but let’s for a minute assume you came here because something happened that was so bad, you didn’t know what else to do. I know your type—you believe your masculinity lives in your ability to intimidate others and to never, ever show any hint of emotion. Igetthat being here goes against everything you’ve been brought up to believe in.

“So I guess the only question left is—was whatever happened to make you seek out professional help so bad you’re willing to surrender all that attitude for what’s left of our session?”

I was treated to what was quite obviously a rare sight—an array of emotions crossing Blaine Steel’s handsome face, morphing from shock, frustration and finally into anger—until his eyes narrowed ever so slightly and his expression slid into the now familiar mask of irreverence. Only this time, there was an unmistakable edge of irritation behind his stare.

With the same ease as a big cat, he got up from the couch and strolled to the far wall where my diploma hung above a low bookshelf, back turned. “Attitude? Is that psychology-speak, then? I see you got your diploma at Liverpool John Moores University. Not exactly Stanford, is it?”

Despite myself, I felt my temper rise. If there was one thing in my life I was proud of, it was that I’d managed to overcome my fucked up past and acquire a degree that allowed me to help people.

“It’s a hell of a lot better than being a petty thief, or whatever you did instead of educating yourself.”

I shouldn’t have let him get to me. And I especially shouldn’t have lashed out—not only because it was as unprofessional as it got, but also because that was exactly what Blaine wanted. I saw it in his eyes the moment he turned back around, smug triumph written all over his stupidly handsome face.

“My, they do certainly educate quality shrinks up north, huh, love?” He walked over to my chair, all swagger, and it just made my blood boil all the more. “You’d think you at least were smart enough to keep your tongue in check. People have gotten hurt for a lot less than calling me a thief.”

And there it was—the vocalization of the threat I’d seen in his eyes when I’d pushed him. No, he wasn’t a thief. His cocky attitude stemmed from something much more sinister than that.

A burst of fear shot up my spine from that place deep inside where I had locked up all the horrible memories of what—and who—I came from.

This man was the same kind I had grown up with. The kind that took what they wanted and didn’t shy away from using force to get it. Yeah, the kind of arrogance streaming off Blaine Steel was the kind a man attained when he was above the law.

He was dangerous.

The sudden spike of fear must have shown on my face, because some of the hardness in his gaze eased a little. He flicked his eyes up and down me again, then lowered his dark lashes halfway, focusing on my lips.

“Not that I’d hurt a bird—even if she is a mouthy little bitch.”

His hand grazing gently across my cheek made my anger well up again, eradicating my fear in a smoldering flood of rage.

I smacked his hand away and flew to my feet. He was less than a foot away, and since I only came up to his shoulder, I had to crane my neck back to glare at him. “Get out.”

There was no mistaking the victory in his eyes as he cocked an eyebrow at me with such self-assured arrogance that it took everything I had not to slap him. “You’re really throwing me out of your office?”

“Yes, I am,” I hissed. “And for the record, the next time you want someone to help you, you might get further if you show just an ounce of respect.”

Blaine just smirked, obviously not the least bit bothered by my anger. “Respect, little dove, is not something I give out all that easily.” And then he put his hand on my arse and squeezed. “But maybe you could try and win it another way?”

It was only that tiny voice of experience with men like Blaine at the back of my mind that stopped me from smacking the smirk off his face then and there. Instead, I stepped back and away from his touch so I could point at the door.

“Get. Out!”

Two

Mira

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