Page 26 of Dangerous Passion

She drew in a deep breath and he released her hand.

She felt behind her blindly and grasped the shiny brass handle. “So I’ll, um, take a bath. And I think you should sit down, right now. Are you in pain?”

He looked surprised at the question, eyes flaring briefly. “Nothing I can’t handle. Don’t worry about me, you go take your bath and soak your muscles. You were tossed around pretty brutally. I’m going to take a bath of my own in another room. And here—“ He dug into his pants pocket and held some kind of electronic device in the huge, callused palm of his hand. She looked it over carefully. It was sleek and essentially featureless save for a big button on one side. “Take this with you. Put it on the side of the tub within easy reach. If the hot water makes you feel faint in any way, just press it and I’ll come. Don’t lock the door. I’ll come as fast as I can.”

Well, she was going to be naked in that tub, so there wasn’t much of a chance of her pressing that button. She was a big girl. If she felt faint, she’d just get out. Still, to make him happy, she grasped one end. He held on to the other. They were linked by five inches of plastic.

“Call me if you need me.” His voice was insistent. A muscle rippled in his jaw, as if he were clenching his teeth against saying something more.

She looked at the lines of his face—harsh, strong, totally unlike any male she’d ever met—and realized something terrible. Something that shook the foundations of her world.

Oh, God.

She was attracted to this man. Massively. Wildly.

This was clearly insane. Being shot at had made her crazy. That was the only explanation possible. This had never happened to her before, ever. She had to be in bed with a man for her body to bloom as it had just done, by the simple touch of his lips to her hand.

A hot flush had shot through her, head to toe, and it wasn’t menopause. It was the real deal. As if by merely kissing her hand, he’d speeded up the rate at which the blood circulated in her body. Actually, that sounded about right because her heart had speeded up as well and was now pounding so hard it was a miracle he didn’t hear it.

Pools of that heat centered in intense flashes in her breasts and between her legs. When his lips touched the skin of her hand, she’d clenched tightly between her legs, the first time that had ever happened to her, so startling it took her a second to even recognize it as desire.

Desire for a man who was scary. She knew nothing about him except that he appeared to be rich and powerful. Powerful enough to have men gunning for him. Powerful enough to have men with guns protecting him.

In her experience, rich and powerful men were obnoxious creatures, completely concentrated on themselves, oblivious to others. This man, Drake, had proved himself to be the exact opposite. He’d disarmed himself for her, shielded her with his body, insisted that she be treated for scrapes and bumps before Ben dealt with his bullet wound.

Rich, powerful men had obnoxious vibes coming off them in almost palpable waves. She wasn’t getting this from Drake at all.

What she was getting from him was desire. Rich, powerfulsexualvibes, like some intense spice, centered on her.

And—whoa—she felt them rightback.

This was absolutely nuts. What did she know about him except that he was lethally dangerous? He’d fought like a trained soldier, yet he didn’t act like one. Soldiers were trained to obey and this man looked like he would obey no one. An army of one.

Whatever he was, whoever he was, he was way too rich for her blood. She was going to get mangled. She had no defenses whatsoever against the solid male power she could feel streaming from him.

Desiring him was suicide.

She stepped back from him, as if backing off from a force field, clutching the electronic device in her hand.

He stepped back, too. Maybe he sensed how rattled she was and knew he had to back off. He nodded at the device.

“Keep that close to you at all times and don’t hesitate to use it if you feel faint. Don’t lock the door,” he repeated, as she started closing the door in his face.

No, she wouldn’t lock the door. It was his home and anyway, he looked like the kind of man who could pick any lock in a heartbeat.

She wanted him.

Drake eased himself into the steaming hot water in the bathroom off the living room, careful not to wet his bandages, sighing at the hot jets massaging his sore muscles.

Grace definitely wanted him, which was good, becausethey had to start their affair soon. Fucking her was a strategic necessity, something he knew he had to do, but it wasn’t a sacrifice. It was his deepest desire. Only now that he’d been close to her, touched her, could he admit openly to himself how much he wanted her. Like he wanted his next breath, that’s how much he wanted her.

And now she was here, in his home, naked, right this minute.

His jaw clenched, imagination running riot at the thought of Grace naked in his tub.

That long, white neck tilted back over the lip of the tub, all the jets firing, clouding the water, revealing then hiding that lovely pale body. He could almost see her beautiful face relaxing, the lines of pain and stress slowly disappearing.

It wasn’t like him to have to imagine a naked woman. Most women he’d wanted naked were only too willing to comply.

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