Page 41 of Compulsion

“No,” I agree softly. “It’s not the first time. I’m a woman.” That’s explanation enough, and he blows out a sigh so rough that it’s almost a growl.

“But I can handle myself,” I assure him, trying to allay his mounting anger on my behalf. I want to stay in this quiet, safe space with him for a while longer without emotional upheaval.

“You don’t have to handle it alone,” he says with the weight of an oath. “Not when I’m around.”

My heart tugs with longing, but I know it’s foolish to become too attached to him so quickly. I’ve never been good at guarding my emotions.

“You didn’t have to tell Ron that you’re my boyfriend,” I murmur. “But thank you for coming to help me.”

Two fingers curl beneath my chin, and he guides my face to his so that I’m caught in his intense green stare.

“You have a rather bad habit of telling me what I don’t have to do,” he remarks, and his thumb traces the line of my lower lip. He speaks over my soft gasp of arousal at the tender touch. “I make my own choices, Abigail. You don’t need to protect me from them.”

“Sorry,” I breathe. “I don’t want to be controlling.”

I will never be like my mother. She controls everyone around her with cutting comments that she wields with the precision of a scalpel.

Dane releases a low chuckle, and his chest rumbles against my cheek. The sound vibrates into me and warms my flesh like a lover’s caress.

“You can’t control me, Abigail. No one does.” His voice drops deeper on the last, a private declaration that he’s spoken aloud.

An ocean separates us, and I prefer it that way.

I reach for him reflexively, drawn to connect with him on a deeper level as I recall what he said about his estrangement from his family. It’s something we have in common, and I crave to know more about my dashing hero.

Our fingers entwine, and he gives me a gentle squeeze.

“I like the way we fit together,” he remarks. “I particularly like the way you captured it in your painting.”

My cheeks heat, and I resist the urge to squirm in his hold. I realize that my painting of our date scene is still propped on my easel, and an intense sense of vulnerability knots my stomach.

“I didn’t think you’d see that,” I say quietly.

His eyes are green pools, drawing me in deep. “It’s stunning.”

He traces the line of my cheekbone, and my breath catches.

“You said I don’t have to tell people that I’m your boyfriend,” he says. “Do you want me to be?”

“We hardly know each other,” I try to protest, but the longing in my heart roughens the words.

His fingers slide into my hair in a gentle grip. “I don’t want to see anyone else. I only want you, Abigail.”

17

ABBY

Dane pins me in place with nothing more than a tender touch and his intense green gaze as he slowly dips his head toward mine. The instant his lush mouth brushes my lips, I melt for him. Warmth floods my chest and spreads all the way to my fingers and toes. It’s a safe, gentle heat rather than passion that strikes like dangerous lightning.

I sink into the sweet moment, clinging to the sense of security. I won’t allow my twisted desires to rise up and ruin this moment with my white knight.

I will be worthy of Dane.

I only want you, Abigail.

His declaration rings through my mind, and I allow it to anchor me in this sweet kiss.

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmurs against my lips. “I know someone’s hurt you in the past.” His fingers firm in my hair ever so slightly before he takes a breath and relaxes. “But you’re safe with me.”

---