Dangerous:Made & Broken (A British Bad Boy Romance)(3)

By: Nora Ash

Despite myself, I felt my temper rise. If there was one thing in my life I was proud of, it was that I’d managed to overcome my fucked up past and acquire a degree that allowed me to help people.

“It’s a hell of a lot better than being a petty thief, or whatever you did instead of educating yourself.”

I shouldn’t have let him get to me. And I especially shouldn’t have lashed out—not only because it was as unprofessional as it got, but also because that was exactly what Blaine wanted. I saw it in his eyes the moment he turned back around, smug triumph written all over his stupidly handsome face.

“My, they do certainly educate quality shrinks up north, huh, love?” He walked over to my chair, all swagger, and it just made my blood boil all the more. “You’d think you at least were smart enough to keep your tongue in check. People have gotten hurt for a lot less than calling me a thief.”

And there it was—the vocalization of the threat I’d seen in his eyes when I’d pushed him. No, he wasn’t a thief. His cocky attitude stemmed from something much more sinister than that.

A burst of fear shot up my spine from that place deep inside where I had locked up all the horrible memories of what—and who—I came from.

This man was the same kind I had grown up with. The kind that took what they wanted and didn’t shy away from using force to get it. Yeah, the kind of arrogance streaming off Blaine Steel was the kind a man attained when he was above the law.

He was dangerous.

The sudden spike of fear must have shown on my face, because some of the hardness in his gaze eased a little. He flicked his eyes up and down me again, then lowered his dark lashes halfway, focusing on my lips.

“Not that I’d hurt a bird—even if she is a mouthy little bitch.”

His hand grazing gently across my cheek made my anger well up again, eradicating my fear in a smoldering flood of rage.

I smacked his hand away and flew to my feet. He was less than a foot away, and since I only came up to his shoulder, I had to crane my neck back to glare at him. “Get out.”

There was no mistaking the victory in his eyes as he cocked an eyebrow at me with such self-assured arrogance that it took everything I had not to slap him. “You’re really throwing me out of your office?”

“Yes, I am,” I hissed. “And for the record, the next time you want someone to help you, you might get further if you show just an ounce of respect.”

Blaine just smirked, obviously not the least bit bothered by my anger. “Respect, little dove, is not something I give out all that easily.” And then he put his hand on my arse and squeezed. “But maybe you could try and win it another way?”

It was only that tiny voice of experience with men like Blaine at the back of my mind that stopped me from smacking the smirk off his face then and there. Instead, I stepped back and away from his touch so I could point at the door.

“Get. Out!”

* * * *

Chapter 2


I have never been so thankful to reach the end of a work day as I was after my session with Blaine Steel.

I was still muttering to myself while I sorted out the last bit of paperwork so I could leave for the day. I could still feel the ghost of his hand against my backside, as if his touch had left a tingling sensation of awareness behind.

Which was partly why I was still angry. Not only had he made me completely lose my professional façade, but he’d also broken through all the walls surrounding my personal space and touched me. This arrogant prick, whom I’d loathed from the first moment I met, had put his hand on me.

And part of me had liked it.

I paused by the door and clutched at the knob as an echo of the shocking sensation of his hand against my arse made me shiver again. It shouldn’t have felt good, at all, and I was furious at myself for having any sort of positive reaction to that… that twat, even if it was purely physical.

With a huff I turned the knob and yanked open the door. Clearly, it had been too long since I’d had a man in my life.

The irony wasn’t lost on me. I’d gone to university to learn all about the human psyche, yet was unable to get past my own childhood trauma to let anyone properly into my life.

At least I acknowledged it. I locked my office door and put my keys into my purse with a sigh. Perhaps it was time to face my demons soon, so I could start looking for a good man without scaring him off like I had my last semi-serious boyfriend. If nothing else, then because it might stop my neglected ovaries from dancing on the tables just because a man with muscles and a wicked smile groped me.

It was dark when I stepped out of the run-down building and onto the street, as it always was this time of day in late October. Dim streetlights illuminated the pothole-rich road, but so many of them were busted that most of the light came from neon signs above closed shops, as well as the windows of the few restaurants and chippies lining the road. This part of East London wasn’t exactly the poshest of places, but it was the only place I had been able to afford to set up my small office. I was situated just above a Thai restaurant. The thing about getting a new identity is that it makes it awfully hard to go to a bank and ask for a business loan.

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