Burned Deep (Burned 1)

“I’m okay,” I tried to assure him.

“No. You’ve been shaking since I pulled you out of the stairwell.”

My face was buried in the crook of his neck as I said, “I have a serious aversion to all reptiles. I told you that.”

“Ari, if Amano or I hadn’t been right outside the door—”

“Don’t make me think about that. Please.” I had no delusions of the trouble I’d been in. Even if my badge hadn’t been deactivated, I could have been thoroughly engrossed in paperwork and bounded down those steps, right to that snake, giving it the perfect opportunity to strike.

I shivered. Dane held me firmer against his hard body.

“I wouldn’t forgive myself if you’d been bitten. You know that. I’m not sure I can for—”

“Dane.” I wrenched free from his embrace. “It wasn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.”

“Ari,” he said in a compelling tone as he stared deep into my eyes, “you don’t seem to get it. I’d be upset if anyone encountered what you did on my property. But again, the fact that it was you makes it infinitely worse.”

“I’m not saying I’m not appreciative. I’m saying … I need to know what lies beyond all this darkness, all this anger. All this need for revenge.”

He was quiet for several seconds, still gazing unwaveringly at me. Finally, he said, “You’re not the only one who grew up in an environment beyond your control. I had no clear idea of what happened to my parents. I just grew up without them. And for a while, I didn’t understand why Amano was always shadowing me, why I couldn’t go anywhere without him.”

“How do you know him? How did you know you could trust him?”

For that matter, the stunning and mysterious Mikaela Madsen flashed in my mind. What was her role in Dane’s life?

He brushed strands of hair from my temple, distracting me from my wayward thoughts. “Like my lawyer, we go way back. Amano was head of security at my family’s estate. He stayed on after my parents died, to keep an eye on my aunt and me. He’s invaluable. I trust him explicitly.”

“Was it necessary for him to stick so close to you?”

“Yes. There were threats that I eventually found out about. Against me. Against my aunt, who raised me. I didn’t grasp what they were all about, until later on, when I was old enough to comprehend the amount of money I was heir to, the properties and businesses I owned.”

He shook his head. My heart wrenched.

“Dane, I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult that all was to process.”

“It was the threats I focused on the most,” he said, that tense, lethal look that I had become all too familiar with crossing his face. “My aunt made sacrifices, did whatever she had to do to take care of me. I couldn’t stand anyone trying to take away what I felt she was also entitled to. The house, which I deeded to her as soon as I was able to, and a bank account that was supposed to guarantee—”

He moved away from me.

“Supposed to guarantee what?” I asked.

With another shake of his head, he told me, “We could afford the best doctors, the best care for her. She shouldn’t have died.”

“Oh, God,” I said on a heavy breath. “Dane.” I closed the gap between us and gripped his arm. “You can’t save someone just because you have money. But how—?”

“Breast cancer.”

I started to see things in a different light. He thought it was his duty, his responsibility, to take care of those around him, those who worked for him or had raised him. And because he’d always had a financial safety net, he’d likely considered himself invincible.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “But you can’t blame yourself for the position you found yourself in, or for what happened to your aunt. You can’t save the world, Dane.”

This seemed to aggravate him further, if the flexing of his muscles was any indication. “You still don’t understand that my obligations are—”

“I’m not an obligation,” I insisted. “Dane.” I searched his eyes, looking for exactly what he was trying to say to me.

“Ari. You’re not seeing the biggest picture of all.” Leaning in close, he kissed me slowly yet intensely. The

n, against my lips, he murmured, “I’m in love with you.”