Page 4 of Dangerous

And, honestly, I was a bit curious as to what had made him come to my rescue.

“I didn’t take you for the kind of guy who would lurk around, waiting for an opportunity to save damsels in distress.”

Blaine laughed. “Haven’t diagnosed me with a hero complex, then, little dove?”

“No—no, Mr. Steel, that I haven’t. You are about as far from a hero as it gets.”

“How rude,” he hummed. “And after I swooped in and saved you from those big, bad bullies. Aren’t therapists supposed to build up their patients’ self-esteem?”

“Not when that patient’s ego is already way overblown. But it’s not like you’ll be my patient going forward, so we’re good regardless.” Savior or not, being back in Blaine’s presence and feeling my body instinctively lean toward him reminded me of how much of a jerk he’d been during our session. I scowled at his handsome profile for good measure.

“Does that mean you’ve changed your mind about shagging me?” He didn’t even look at me, just grabbed my arm and stepped off the pavement so he could lead me across the road.

I did my best to ignore the shiver of awareness his touch drove through my skin, even through my wooly coat. Damn him and whatever all-male pheromones he seemingly bathed in before going out! And damn my traitorous ovaries.

“No offense, but I would rather slit my wrists.” I yanked my elbow out of his grasp the moment we were on the pavement again. “Does this usually work for you? Do women really drop their knickers when you make your interest in their fun bits known?”

“Generally, they do, yes. In fact, your continued refusal might end up doing permanent damage to my fragile self-image. Isn’t it in your ethical code that you must do what you can to help those who come to you seeking help? You really want to risk your professional reputation over the welfare of a patient?”

I really should have learned my lesson from our encounter in my office, but every word out of his mouth grated against my nerves—partly because of my frustration at my body’s reactions, and partly because he served them with the most obscene smirk I’d ever seen. So instead of biting my tongue, I dug my heels in and rounded on him.

“I realize that your crippling self-hatred is so tied to your masculinity that you constantly try to undermine strong women with crude attempts at sexual dominance, but maybe you should try to see us as more than something to bury your cock in, hmm? Whatever it is you’re so desperately trying to hide from yourself, it isn’t going to go away by sexually harassing anyone who thinks to challenge you.”

Blaine’s deviant lips twitched, most likely at making me lose my temper—again.“Ah, but I have nothing against strong women, Miss Holler. I’ll even let you be on top.”

I took a deep—deep—breath and counted to ten. “Sometimes,Blaine,we don’t get what we want. It’s part of our emotional development. Clearly, you’ve missed out, so see this as an opportunity to better yourself. If I had gotten the pony I desperately wanted for my sixth birthday, I would probably have ended up a horrible human being who thought she could get anything and anyone she pointed at, as well.” Yeah, I was subtle. “But I didn’t, and look at me now, all capable of acting like a normal person.”

My righteous fury had done nothing to dim the devilish gleam in Blaine’s eyes. “You say I’m the one who’s scared, but you should see yourself—you look positively terrified that a night in the sack with me will make that prim and proper façade of yours come tumbling down.”

Well, ouch. That hit a tad too close to home. I took a step back and shook my head, disengaging as I should have done from the start. “I truly hope you learn to drop the bad boy act one day so you can get rid of your demons. Goodbye, Blaine.”

I spentthe train ride home doing my best to forget I’d ever met Blaine Steel, but it was hard to ignore how completely he’d gotten under my skin.

I knew it wasn’t just because he’d made my panties damp. No, it was also because he reminded me so strongly of all the things I’d run away from, and all the things I still woke up from nightmares of. He was dangerous; there was no doubt in my mind about that after having looked into his eyes. He was the type of man who could and would crush a person if it suited him, and yet… I hadn’t done everything I could to fly under the radar. I’d argued with him and shoved his flaws in his face, like some moron with a death wish.

Perhaps it meant that I was finally starting to heal? Maybe, if I could face a man like Blaine and not immediately turn around and run in the other direction, then my childhood had finally lost its petrifying grip on me.

I felt marginally better when I got off the train, but I was still too emotionally squashed to consider cooking.

I stopped by my local chippy on my way home, giving my current diet a remorseful thought as the bell jingled merrily upon my entry.

“Chicken Kung Pao, Mira?” Mr. Chang sent me a friendly smile when the smell of fried food and soy sauce enveloped me.

Okay, so maybe there was a reason I never really completed a diet, leaving me in an eternal cycle of restrictive eating, binging, and then guilt. When your local chippy knew both your name and your regular order, there weren’t all that many excuses left.

“Yeah, thanks, Chang,” I said, sending him a pale smile. “With extra sauce, please.”

Oh well, the guilt would have to wait until tomorrow. Right now, all I wanted out of life was my Kung Pao, my sofa, and a date withDoctor Who.

I was already considering maybe slapping on an episode ofCoronation Streetafter the good doctor when I let myself into my apartment ten minutes later, balancing my bag and the food while pulling the keys out of the lock as the door slammed shut behind me. But my musings were cut short when I reached for the light switch and nothing happened.

Dammit. Was the fuse blown? I fumbled my way through the hallway in the darkness toward my kitchen, praying it could be fixed by flipping random switches in the fuse box. Getting an electrician out after hours in London was about as likely as seeing a rainbow-colored unicorn strutting down the street wearing a tutu.

It wasn’t until I got to the kitchen that I realized I wasn’t alone in the flat.

Something scraped against the floor in my living room, but even before I’d managed to convince myself it must have been something outside making a weird noise, I heard the unmistakable sound of boots against the wooden floors, making their way toward the hallway. Cutting off my only escape route.

My pulse surged as I spun around, mindlessly groping for a weapon from my kitchen counter. I grabbed a wooden handle and ripped my weapon to me, dropping the Kung Pao on the floor.

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