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“And whose protection are you under?”
“Yours.”
He leaned in until his lips were practically touching her ear. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back against him. “And so you are going to obey my rules, are you not?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, Sir.”
She froze. He couldn’t mean that. He was just doing it to mess with her head. Finally, he backed away from her.
“Keep that hand under the water. I’m going to go get the first aid kit. You move, and you’ll be in trouble.”
There was some idiotic part of her that wanted to ask what sort of trouble he was talking about. But she hadn’t lost all sense of self-preservation. He returned quickly and turned off the tap himself. Then he gently dried her hand.
She looked down at the palm of her hand. It was red, but the throbbing pain had pretty much disappeared.
“It feels much better now. I should be fine without anything else.”
He didn’t even acknowledge her. He just pulled some burn cream out of the first aid kit, along with a bandage.
“It’s just a small burn,” she insisted. “I’ve worked in kitchens for years. I’ve had plenty of burns. I don’t need burn cream or a bandage.”
“Don’t recall asking you what you thought you needed.” He proceeded to gently rub cream on her burn then he wrapped her hand up.
“Just how am I supposed to cook dinner with this on my hand?”
“You’ll get by.”
“I’ll get by? I’ve got potatoes to peel. Veggies to chop. I can’t do this with this great big monstrosity on my hand.” She reached for the bandage and he grabbed hold of her good hand.
“Do not take that bandage off your hand, understand me?”
Damn it. She knew when she wasn’t going to win an argument. And she didn’t much like arguing anyway.
Finally, she nodded. “Fine, but don’t blame me if there are no veggies with your dinner tonight.”
“Doesn’t make any difference to me. I’m going out. Try to stay out of trouble.”
He gathered up the first aid gear and walked out of the room without so much as a backward glance, leaving her standing there like a fool.
Shit. Fuck.
He walked into his office and went immediately over to pour himself a glass of whiskey. He took a deep sip, hoping it would erase the scent of her from his memory. The feel of her against his body. He reminded himself she wasn’t in the lifestyle.
Getting involved with her would be a mistake. She wasn’t a sub at the club he could just walk away from. She lived with him. There would no way of keeping her feelings out of it. That female was a ball of emotions. Mia wasn’t someone you just played with and then walked away from. She deserved happy ever after. She was sweet and kind.
And he’d been an ass. He didn’t much care what people thought of him. He lived life his own way. He felt bad for being so cold to her, but it was the best way he knew to keep a barrier between them. There was just something about her that called to him.
Underneath her fragile exterior, there was a tough core. He hadn’t seen it in the beginning, not with the way she tended to bite her tongue and pull in on herself, but a few times now she’d shown him the real Mia. The one she kept hidden. Sure, she was someone who liked to keep the peace, but push her hard enough and she’d bite back.
He hadn’t thought he would find that appealing. But he was glad to know she was tougher than she looked. She had to be to have lived through what she had.
He ran his hand over his face. The jealousy he’d felt when he’d walked into the kitchen and seen Butch and Tanner shirtless and standing so close to her, it didn’t make him feel good. He didn’t want to be jealous of them. He didn’t want her to mean anything to him.
Which is why he’d snapped at her that his brothers were off limits. Damn it. Mia was everything he wanted in a woman. Soft, sweet, beautiful inside and out.
And totally off-limits. For him as well as his brothers.
