Page 73 of Worth the Risk

“No less kind than I’ve been to you. I swear, I’d tell you if I thought I could.”

“If it’s not illegal or abuse, what can be so awful?”

“It’s best you don’t know and get tangled up in my mess with me.”

Suddenly exhausted, he released her and sat on the couch. Too late to realize he was doing it, Dan dragged his fingers through his hair. At this rate, he’d have none left at the end of his first month with Bella.

“I’m sorry. I’m the worst submissive girlfriend who ever lived.”

His arm was long and reached to where she stood wringing her hands. With a yank, he tumbled her into his lap and enveloped her in his arms. “We’re still new. Trust takes time. But you’ll learn, if you stick with me, you can trust me with anything.”

“I noticed you didn’t disagree with me,” she muttered, her voice muffled again with her face pressed against his neck.

Impossibly, he laughed. Bella didn’t join in. Instead, she wrapped around him, her hands burrowing between his back and the couch as surely as she’d dug her way under his skin. He must want her there. Why else would he listen to his heart, holding onto her tight the whole while his brain screamed for him to run from this girl with all her secrets and problems?

“Is Isabella your real name?”

“Yes, but I borrowed my last name from a restaurant near where I grew up.”

He grunted. “The names have been changed to protect the innocent.”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Her messages were cryptic, but at least she was talking. After fifteen years of solving mysteries, he was pretty good at it. With sufficient time, he would have Isabella not Rinaldi figured out. He only hoped it happened before the firestorm of danger racing toward her struck.

Mentally, he made a plan of attack. First thing in the morning, he’d have Jonas run a nationwide search on the first concrete clue she’d given him. Likely, considering her accent, Rinaldi’s restaurant would turn up in New York or Jersey.

They sat quietly in the dark for a long time, holding one another. It had been a long, emotional day, and she needed sleep as much as he did.

“It will be daylight soon. You should get to bed.”

Her head came up, blue eyes glimmering in the moonlight shining through the window. “You could stay...” she suggested. “Unless... you no longer want to.”

His brain automatically translated her words to what she really meant—unless you no longer want me.

He slid his hand around the side of her head and threaded his fingers into her hair. The heel of his hand cradled her jaw as he pulled her forward until they were nose to nose. “I’ll always want you, beautiful,” he said firmly. “I wasn’t planning on leaving with an unknown threat out there haunting you. You have my protection, but don’t think I’m giving up until I uncover all of your secrets.”

Bella nodded, batting the tears away that once again filled her eyes. “I wish you wouldn’t, but I didn’t expect for you not to.”

“Don’t cry anymore, baby.”

She sniffled and huffed a little laugh. “I thought doms, especially sadist doms, enjoyed making submissives cry.”

With her thoughts echoing his, he explained, “Only when they’re tied to a cross being flayed by a lash or a whip. Any other time, your tears cut me to the quick because I’m a hard candy shell on the outside, but inside pure marshmallow.”

“I like marshmallow,” she replied with a watery smile. “And, as you’ve proven, I also enjoy being flayed on the cross by you, so we make a good but really odd pair.”

“Keep playing with me at the club and you’ll see in that environment we’re as common as vanilla ice cream.”

“My favorite flavor is chocolate. I especially like it when it’s melted between two graham crackers with—”

“Marshmallow?”

“Yeah,” she agreed with a hesitant smile.

“I know you don’t have any. We went together to stock up, but I seem to remember Hershey’s syrup.”

“Is that something else sadists like?”

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