ndent, puts me in ultimate control.”
I swallow.
“You sound like you miss it.”
“It’s what I know,” he murmurs, gazing down at me.
His gray eyes are wide and serious, and the atmosphere
between us has changed as if he’s in the confessional.
“You ha一ve power over me. You know you do,” I
whisper.
“Do I? You make me feel . . . helpless.”
“No!” Oh Fifty . . . “Why?”
“Because you’re the only person I know who could
really hurt me.” He reaches up and tucks my hair behind
my ear.
“Oh, Christian . . . that works both ways. If you didn’t
want me—” I shudder, glancing down at my twisting
fingers. Therein lays my other dark reservation about us. If
he wasn’t so . . . broken, would he want me? I shake my
head. I must try not to think like that.
“The last thing I want to do is hurt you. I love you,” I
murmur, reaching up to run my fingers through his sideburn
and gently stroke his cheek. He leans his face into my
touch, drops the gag back in the drawer, and reaches for
me, his hands around my waist. He pulls me against him.
“Ha一ve we finished show and tell?” he asks, his voice
soft and seductive. His hand moves up my back to the
nape of my neck.
“Why? What did you want to do?”
He bends and kisses me gently, and I melt against him,
grasping his arms.
“Ana, you were nearly attacked today.” His voice is
soft but ice-cold and wary.
“So?” I ask, enjoying the feel of his hand at my back
and his proximity. He pulls his head back and scowls
down at me.
“What do you mean, ‘so?’ ” he rebukes.
I gaze up into his lovely, grumpy face, and I’m dazzled.
“Christian, I’m fine.”
He wraps me in his arms, holding me close. “When I
He wraps me in his arms, holding me close. “When I
think what might ha一ve happened,” he breathes, burying his
face in my hair.
“When will you learn that I’m stronger than I look?” I
whisper reassuringly into his neck, inhaling his delicious
scent. There is nothing better on the planet than being in
Christian’s arms.
“I know you’re strong,” Christian muses quietly. He
kisses
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