Page 113 of A Dangerous Kind of Love

“This relationship,” he says, gesturing between us, “only works if I know you’re safe and taken care of.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit.”

I shove his hand off my thigh. He puts it right back, firmer this time.

“Katie. I’m not the kind of man who’s going to sit back and wonder if some fuck face asshole is giving you a hard time, or if you’re struggling to make ends meet.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” I tell him.

“Doll,” he says, softer this time. “You don’t need to run yourself ragged working two jobs. Let me do this for you.”

I look down at his hand. His thumb is lightly running along my thigh. When I look back at him, his focus is on the road, but he glances at me.

“Please?”

My brain is telling me to back the fuck up. You’ve known this man for all of a week. He’s trying to control you. Don’t let him do this, but there’s another part of me that doesn’t care. It wants to give in. I’m tired of carrying everything on my own. I’m so fucking exhausted.

I don’t look at him when I say it, “Okay.”

He exhales. My hand finds his on my thigh, and I intertwine our fingers, sealing it in place.

“Katie, hey. Doll, we’re here.”

I blink awake, my head against the window. I push myself up and look over at him. He’s smiling at me.

“You fell asleep.”

I glance around, trying to get my bearings. We’re inside. There are bright lights overhead and cars lined up everywhere.

“Come on. Let’s go inside,” he says.

He gets out, walks around, and opens my door, holding his hand out for me.

“Where are we?” I ask.

“The basement garage.”

I look around again, slower this time. There have to be at least thirty cars down here, and every single one of them looks expensive as hell.

“Are all of these yours?”

“Yeah,” he says, leading me between them.

“God, you’re so fucking rich.”

He laughs, tugging me along by the hand. I yawn, and he catches it. He stops us and his arm goes under my thighs, the other at my back, lifting me.

“Yes, please,” I say, already wrapping my arms around his neck.

He doesn’t stop until we get to an elevator. A goddamn elevator.

“You’re joking.”

He glances at me. “About what?”

“You have an elevator.”

“I have a lot of things you don’t know about,” he says, leaning in and brushing his nose against mine.