“On second thoughts, if this is because of you, then maybe you should go,” I say. There are no bruises on the girl’s body but I’ve seen enough cases of domestic violence to know that it’s not always physical. A broken spirit can be just as damaging as a broken bone. This guy could have made his girlfriend’s life so miserable that she simply wanted to end it. The scars on her arms say this wasn’t the first time she’s tried it, either.

Tall, Dark and Handsome glares at me with a pure fury that makes me rethink my suggestion. He faces me properly, like he’s committing to sticking around now, and finally speaks. No, he growls. “I’m not her boyfriend. And I’m not leaving her.”

My stomach lurches. That…

That voice.

Holy…I hold my fingertips to my lips, scrutinising every last square millimetre of him. “Do I know you?” I whisper.

A cruel smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “No.”

Relief floods through me, but my body refuses to accept the sensation. “I could swear I recognised your voice.”

“I was born here. We all sound the same, sweetheart.” He continues to deny it, but with every word my stomach twists a little further. I hear that voice in my dreams; I’d know it anywhere. I’m not wrong. I am so not wrong. This…this is him. The guy who brought in the tiny, broken girl is the very same guy who tied me up and fucked me senseless two years ago. The guy who took my virginity. His brooding eyes are fixed on me with such intensity, that I know he’s just waiting for me to realize.

“I—I need to know who your friend is,” I stammer, and he smiles. It’s a breathtakingly wild and treacherous thing, seeing this guy smile. The gesture’s so sharp it could flay a man alive.

“Carrie. Her name is Carrie.”

“Insurance?”

He shakes his head. His eyes never leave mine. “I’ll pay.”

“You’ll need to go speak to reception. Give them your credit card details. And your name.”

He smirks, looks down at his shoes and then raises his eyes to mine again so that he’s looking up at me from under those dark eyebrows. “I’ve got cash. And you don’t need to know my name. Better if you didn’t. Better you forget I was ever here.”

He starts pacing backward, arms still folded across his chest, and I act without thinking. A part of me is already wondering where the nearest phone is so I can call the cops, but the rest of me follows him down the corridor. Damn, stupid body.

“Wait! I—don’tmakemedothis!”

“Do what?”

“I don’t know! I—it was you. Admit it. Admit that it was you.”

“I didn’t hurt Carrie.” His smirk vanishes, replaced by a cold and calculating stare.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

He pouts, and any remaining doubts I might have had are banished just like that. Those lips—I may not have seen them in the dark, but I sure as hell felt them. He’s the guy. He sees it now. Knows that I know for sure. “Maybe I do know what you mean. That doesn’t change the fact that you should forget I was ever here. Best for everyone involved. You don’t want to know me, sweetheart.”

His arrogance is freaking unprecedented. I take four hurried steps and stab my index finger into his chest. “You!”

Up this close, he’s so tall it’s frightening. “Me,” he agrees.

I ask him the one question that’s been burning in my mind for the past two years. “Did you have anything to do with Eli’s death?”

He looks away, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. That’s a yes if ever I saw one. “Let’s just say Eli and I had a disagreement.”

“Fuck! I knew it. Did you take Lex’s paperwork?”

He’s like Dr Jekyll and Mister Hyde. One minute he’s standing there, watching me like I’m a genie and I might disappear in a puff of smoke any minute, and then he’s pure, raw anger. He grabs hold of my wrist and moves with lightning speed, shoving me roughly back against the wall. The corridor is empty at this time of morning so I’m completely alone and vulnerable. His hand closes around my throat, just tight enough to terrify the shit out of me. “You like feeling like this, Sloane?”

Hearing my name come out of his mouth makes my eyes well with tears. He’s known who I am all along. I shake my head. “No,” I gasp.

“Then you need to treat Carrie, make sure she gets better. I’ll be coming back for her in two days. Don’t let the goddamn shrinks near her. Don’t let them section her or I’m gonna be seriously pissed.” His body presses up against mine—he’s like a wall of muscle and testosterone that’s trying to possess me. I’m too frightened to do anything but nod my head. Something changes, then. I could be fooling myself but I think I see his eyes soften. “Do you remember?” he whispers.

I nod.

“And when you close your eyes?”

I know what he’s asking. I nod again. “Yes.”

“Do it, then. Close your eyes.” His hand tightens fractionally, making me gasp. I take one long hard look into the bottomless depths of his eyes and then, just like the last time, I do as I’m told. I close my eyes.

His lips brush lightly against mine, and my mind stills. His breathing is fast, ragged and hot against my mouth. It has the most devastating effect. I’m practically tearing myself apart over how conflicted I am. Should I kiss him back? Should I knee him in the balls? He blows all argument right out of the water when his tongue darts out and meets my parted lips. He slowly teases it over my mouth, so carefully, lovingly, like he’s tasting me. I react on impulse. I open my mouth wider, welcoming him inside. He doesn’t accept the offer, though.