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  “Maybe you could whittle it down to the most disgruntled villains.”

  She paused. “Corporate law doesn’t usually entice such anger. And if it were related to the firm I’m at now, there would be an entire team of attorneys to blame.”

  “Where were you before?”

  She took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to like this answer. “I was a public defender when I first got out of law school.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Oh, Lord. For how long?”

  “A year.”

  “Well, at least we can narrow it down to the losses you had during that time period with some level of confidence.”

  “If it’s even related to my job. Maybe it’s a mistaken identity.”

  “Old boyfriend?”

  She scrunched up her face. “I think I’d remember if I dated someone who looked like that guy.”

  “I suppose he could be related to some guy or a friend. Or hired by someone.” He perked up at that idea.

  “How many men do you suppose I’ve pissed off?” She smiled at him as she stuffed the last of her papers in her briefcase. And then she groaned at the pain in her face.

  He came to her side and set his hands on her shoulders. “All the ones who aren’t with you now. They must be steaming mad they gave you up or got dumped.”

  She felt her face flush under the pain. “Sure.” She rolled her eyes.

  “From what I’ve seen, I don’t know how you’re still available for me to snag off the market.” He kissed her forehead.

  “Yeah, well, I haven’t had much time for dating in the last several years, so you can check that possibility off your list. There is no giant pile of disgruntled exes after me for my incredible wit.”

  “It isn’t your wit I’m interested in.” He left it at that, turning to pick up the lasagna from the table with potholders. “Wait here a second while I put this in the truck.”

  She watched him from the door as he opened the passenger door to his truck and set the lasagna on the floor. He jogged back toward her and grabbed her suitcase and computer bag next.

  “I could have managed.” She followed him out the door. “I’ll follow you,” she said as she locked the deadbolt.

  “You’re too shook up right now. Let’s come back for your car tomorrow. I’ll drive.”

  “So bossy,” she muttered as she followed him to his truck.

  “You have no idea.”

  Now, what did that mean?

  Chapter Nine

  Rafe gripped the steering wheel all the way to his house. Katy sat beside him, too quiet.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” She glanced at him, trying to smile, but she winced the moment her mouth attempted to curve upward again. “I think I’m still in shock.” She looked out the window.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the hospital?”

  She tipped her head his way. “No. You said it isn’t broken.” She touched her nose, wincing again from the pain.

  “It’s not. But it’s understandable that you’d be stressed.” He took her hand and squeezed. “Hell, I’m stressed.” Rafe pulled into the garage and shut the electric door before he exited the truck.

  Katy climbed out her side, dragging as though exhausted.

  “Come on inside. I’ll get everything out of the truck after.”

  She didn’t argue, which told him a lot about her state of mind. Katy wasn’t someone who would ordinarily let anyone carry her share of a burden. He hadn’t known her long, but he was sharp enough to realize she was a strong woman who generally took care of herself. The fact someone had shaken her this deeply spoke volumes.

  She followed him inside, and he flipped on the lights at the entrance to the kitchen. “Come on in. Have a seat. I’ll get your stuff.” He pointed at the couch and watched as she padded over and collapsed against the cushions.

  As soon as he had her belongings inside, he set the lasagna on the stove and headed over to sit next to her. The room was so quiet.

  Rafe took her in his arms and pulled her against his chest, careful to keep her face tipped to one side. “You hungry?”

  “No. I couldn’t eat if I wanted to. My appetite is gone, and my face is killing me.”

  Rafe leaned her against the arm of the couch. “Let me get you some ibuprofen.” He headed for the kitchen and returned with a glass of water and two pills.

  Tears welled in her eyes again as he sat beside her. “Thank you. For everything.” She swallowed the pills and leaned back. “I can’t imagine what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.”

  “If you hadn’t been expecting me, I assume you wouldn’t have opened the door so easily for one thing.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe. But still. I appreciate you taking me into your home like this. I could have gone to Jenna’s, but she would have freaked out. I’d rather wait a few days to tell her.”

  “You have one and a half. Girl talk is scheduled for eight thirty a.m. Sunday morning.” He grinned.

  She closed her eyes and settled against him.

  “You’re a zombie. It’s the adrenaline crash. How about you go to bed? Sleep will make you feel much better.”

  “I think that’s a great idea.” She lifted her head and met his gaze. “You don’t mind?”

  He furrowed his brow. “Why would I mind?” He stood, lifting her alongside him. He grabbed her suitcase and led her down the hall. “I’ll give you a better tour tomorrow, but anything you need, please let me know. Make yourself at home. Okay?”

  She nodded, her head facing the ground as she walked.

  He paused at the entrance to the guest room. What he wanted to do was sweep her into his own room and hold her all night, but that would be impossible. He’d never get any sleep and he didn’t trust himself to keep his hands off her. For one thing, she was hurting, emotionally and physically. And for another thing, he was not in the habit of bringing women to his home. He never did it. In fact no woman had ever slept under this roof.

  When he dated, his relationships had been strictly confined to the club for several years. Occasionally he’d had a girlfriend he saw outside of the club, but he usually kept those liaisons either in public locations or at her place.

  He took a deep breath. It was a huge step for him to bring a woman to his house. And he desperately wanted this particular woman right where she was, though perhaps in his room instead of across the hall. But not tonight. And certainly not before she knew more about him.

  He’d crossed the line on all his personal rules enough times as it was.

  Rafe opened the door to the guest room and flipped on the light. He ushered her in, set her suitcase at the foot of the bed, and then took her face in his hands. “This isn’t going to be pretty tomorrow. You’re going to have some bruising. But you’ll feel better in a few days.”

  “You say that as though you get punched in the nose often.” She smirked.

  “Yeah. At least once a week.”

  “I can’t imagine why you’d want to intentionally feel like this.”

  He shrugged. “I like the release. Punching and kicking things give me a rush.”

  “And people?” She lifted one brow.

  He narrowed his gaze and shook his head. “Not outside the ring, if that’s what you mean. At least not in anger. I might consider spanking your sweet ass if you insist on putting yourself in danger anymore.”

  She shivered. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words would form. Was he smirking? He had to be kidding. Yes. Of course he was. “Sorry. I’m just tired.” She lowered her gaze.

  Rafe lifted her face with his hands on both sides. “It’s okay. No worries. Sleep. The bathroom is next door. Everything you need is in the cabinet. Yell if you need me. My room’s across the hall.”

  “Got it.” She wrapped her arms around him. “This is above and beyond, you know. I’m so grateful. Thanks again.”

  He hugged her loosely. “You’re welcome.”

  Rafe inhaled
long and slow as he left her to sleep. He entered the kitchen, served himself some of the lasagna, and sat at the table staring at nothing.

  Her meal was delicious. But he’d have enjoyed it more under different circumstances. He kept thinking what if. What if he’d arrived a few minutes earlier? What if he’d insisted she take more precautions in the first place? He’d known someone was following her. It was stupidity on his part to not take that seriously.

  But it was over now. And luckily she would be okay. And he wouldn’t let her do anything unnecessarily dangerous again anytime soon.

  He set his forehead on his palm as he thought about how much he liked this woman. She was way under his skin and he wanted her naked and beneath him. He ran his hands through his hair as he pictured her on her knees in front of him. God how he wanted her to submit to him. And the worst part was he truly believed she wouldn’t be able to do it.

  She was too strong. He worried she didn’t have a submissive bone in her body. Could he change? He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. He’d been a Dom for many years now. Envisioning a vanilla life, even with Katy, didn’t cut it for him. Maybe he could rein in the dominance enough to contain it in the bedroom, or at least the house, but to give it up was unimaginable.

  •●•

  Katy slept hard. When she woke up, she widened her gaze for a moment before she realized where she was. The scent of coffee filled her nose, and she eased out of the bed and padded toward the bathroom. A quick glance in the mirror made her gasp. Her nose and lips were swollen. Black rings circled both eyes as she realized she couldn’t open them all the way. Tears welled up, but she swallowed them back and turned away from the mirror to use the toilet. She washed her hands without glancing up again. She’d seen enough.

  Avoiding the mirror, she brushed her teeth and brushed her hair. She splashed water over her face, relieved that the contact didn’t hurt too badly.

  As she headed down the hall, she wondered what Rafe would say when he saw her.

  The television on the living room wall was playing as she passed, but muted. Rafe stood at the kitchen counter, his back to her. She froze in her place and stared at him before he realized she was there. He busied himself with something in the sink.

  Holy moly. She held her breath. She hadn’t seen him without a shirt on before. Well, she must have seen him in the gym that first morning, but apparently nothing about him had registered.

  He was ripped. Tight firm muscles covered his back and tapered down to his perfect waist. But that was nothing compared to the tattoo running down his back and extending over one shoulder. A fierce dragon reared its head between his shoulder blades. How the hell had she not seen that before?

  She’d never been fond of tattoos in the past. But as she stood there on shaky legs, she licked her dry, cracked lips. She wanted to trace the edges of that tattoo and mold her fingers over the massive muscles underneath the intricate design.

  Hell, that wasn’t all she wanted.

  Rafe turned around and startled. “Hey.” His lopsided grin made her insides flip over. Suddenly he was sexier than ever. “I hope I didn’t wake you?”

  She shook her head. She wanted to speak, but her mouth wouldn’t move. She swallowed, but her lips were too dry.

  “Coffee?”

  She nodded now. “Please,” she managed to whisper. She inched her way toward the kitchen table, hoping she wouldn’t collapse or trip over her tongue on the way.

  This man was way the fuck out of her league. He needed to star in some film or something, not harbor a nerdy lawyer with a stalker from some strange past transgression.

  “You okay?” he asked as he pulled out a chair and settled her at the table. He handed her a steaming cup of coffee and pulled the cream and sugar toward her from the center of the table.

  “Of course.” She didn’t look at him directly. She couldn’t without drooling or melting into a puddle on the floor. Why couldn’t he put a shirt on or something? And then she remembered her face and groaned, rolling her eyes.

  Rafe lifted her chin with one finger and narrowed his gaze to examine her. “I told you it would look and feel worse today. It’ll heal though. Tomorrow it will be much better. The swelling will go down.”

  She nodded.

  “I’m making pancakes. Is that okay?”

  She moaned. He cooks too?

  Rafe pulled out the chair next to her and sat. He took one of her hands in his. “You seem off. Does your face hurt?” He scrutinized her nose and cheeks and eyes again with his gaze.

  “Not too bad. I’ll live.” She gulped and then pulled her fingers from his grip to wrap both hands around the coffee as if she were cold. She busied herself with the cream and sugar, thinking of his incredible thoughtfulness.

  Rafe stood and gently squeezed her shoulder. “Okay. Maybe you aren’t so good with words in the morning. I can live with that. You drink coffee. I’ll cook breakfast.” He chuckled and turned away.

  That didn’t help matters at all, because she couldn’t take her gaze off his incredible back. The only clothing he wore was a pair of loose shorts and she wanted to tug those down and get a good look at the rest of his package, to assure herself he was indeed real.

  Katy glanced down at her own apparel, loose-fitting, pink, flannel pants and a gray T-shirt. Sexy.

  She sipped her coffee and watched the erotic dance that was Rafe working in the kitchen. Every choreographed move he made caused her to stifle a groan. She tucked her wild curls behind her ear. She felt like Frankenstein beside this man, swollen face and all.

  Rafe returned to the table, set a plate down for each of them and then added a heaping platter of pancakes and sausage. Before he sat, he poured them both orange juice. “How does your face feel?”

  Katy touched her nose and winced. “Sore.”

  “Do you want some more ibuprofen?”

  “No. I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

  Rafe put several pancakes on his plate and poured syrup over them.

  Katy wasn’t sure she could eat yet. She watched as he took his first bite. Even eating was sexy when he did it. She couldn’t stop staring.

  Rafe paused with his next bite in the air and looked at her. She must have been eyeing his pecs, because he glanced down and then set his fork down. “Shit. I’m sorry. I should have at least put a shirt on at the table.” He wiped his mouth on a napkin and moved to scoot his chair back.

  Katy grabbed his arm. “No.” The word escaped her lips before she could filter herself. “I mean, I’m enjoying the show. Please. Don’t get dressed on my account.”

  Rafe chuckled and resumed his spot. “Enjoying the show?”

  “Well, you know. You aren’t hard on the eyes.” She shrugged and tried to nonchalantly fill her plate. Her mouth was like cotton. She couldn’t keep her legs still under the table and the ache that had developed in her stomach when she’d first laid eyes on him this morning was turning into more of a deep longing.

  He’d probably done nothing out of the ordinary to look that delicious in the morning. Katy couldn’t look that enticing if she’d gotten up an hour ago and primped first.

  “Sorry. I’m not used to having house guests. I wasn’t thinking.”

  She shook her head. “Feel free to go shirtless any time.” Katy took a bite, fighting her embarrassment.

  Rafe reached forward with one finger and wiped the corner of her mouth, licking the sticky syrup from his finger afterward. Every move he made was erotic. And he showed no outward signs that he was in any way interested in more than a friendship this morning.

  He was cordial and polite, but he hadn’t done anything to indicate he was her boyfriend.

  Of course what did she expect? He hadn’t intended to have her as a house guest when he’d shown up for dinner last night. He didn’t seem miffed in any way, but their relationship wasn’t exactly on a level that would assume such an imposition for more than a night.

  Rafe finished first and then sat back. “So, I hop
e you don’t mind, but I usually work out on Saturday mornings—”

  “God, no. Of course. I should get going myself. I have a lot to do.” She interrupted whatever he was going to say. He wanted to get out of there. He probably regretted inviting her in the first place.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Going? Where?” He shook his head. “No. What I was going to say is that, I don’t want to leave you here alone, and I didn’t figure you would want to come to the gym with me, so I invited my friend Mason to come here to work out.”

  He leaned forward and set his elbows on the table. He took her hand. “Relax. You look so uptight.”

  “Well, I figured… I mean, we…” What the hell was she supposed to say?

  He smiled. “You aren’t going anywhere. It’s not safe. I want you safe. Can you handle me having Mason over for a while? I’ll call him and cancel if it makes you uncomfortable.”

  She stared at him. “Of course not. I thought maybe you would like your privacy back. I mean, this took you off guard and all. I’m in the way.” She shrugged.

  Rafe stood and pulled her to standing also. He took her face in both hands and kissed her so fast, she didn’t have a chance to think. A deep thorough kiss that left her weak in the knees. He tasted of syrup and coffee. She imagined she did too. And she didn’t notice her sore lips at all.

  When he pulled back, he was grinning. “I want you here. In fact, I insist. Sure, it’s kind of awkward seeing as we haven’t slept together or anything, but I really like you. And I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything if I had to worry about your safety all the time. Please, stay.”

  She nodded. Dumbfounded. She would think he was only being nice if he hadn’t kissed her senseless.

  “I have workout equipment in the basement. Mason and I will do our thing down there. You don’t have to meet him if it makes you feel weird.”

  “I think I’ll take a shower.” She couldn’t think what else to say.

  Rafe kissed her again and then released her to grab the plates and carry them to the sink.

  “I can clean up. You cooked.”

  He turned and winked at her. “You’re my guest. I’ve got it. Go. Take your shower. You’ll feel better after.”