Burned Deep (Burned 1)

I sliced a thin piece of steak and sighed dreamily over the tender medium-rare meat and the rich sauce. “I don’t know where you found Chef D’Angelo, but he’s a dream come true.”

Dane said, “Don’t make me jealous of him, too.”

I laughed. “You aren’t seriously jealous of anyone. You just like intimidating the hell out of everybody. And you know I am completely, totally yours. So lighten—”

Something dropped from the terrace above us and landed on my plate, cutting me off. Three nasty little black somethings, actually. And they practically lunged for me.

I screamed as I shoved my chair back and leapt to my feet as two scorpions raced over the edge of the table and fell to the ground. The third remained on my plate, blessedly trapped in the thick béarnaise.

Dane was beside me in a heartbeat, pulling me farther away. My stomach launched into my throat.

“Go inside,” he demanded before stepping on the creepy little suckers that were on the move.

“If they’re female, they release the babies from their back,” I warned.

He stomped around the area. I screamed again as the third one broke free of the sauce.

“Inside, Ari!” Dane barked.

Before I could move, one more dropped onto my shoulder. I instinctively flicked it with my hand—and felt the searing pain as its tail curled and stung me.

I let out a bloodcurdling scream and dropped to the marbled floor. I clutched my injured hand, which felt as though a Mack truck had just run it over, crushing the bones.

“Ari!” Dane was next to me in an instant, helping me to my feet.

“Mr. Bax! Is something wrong?” Miyanaga asked, panic in his voice, likely because of my Freddie Krueger freak-out.

“Scorpions on the terrace,” Dane said between clenched teeth.

“Scorpions?” This took the other man aback. “Not in this area. I’ve never seen them. And we have pest control.”

“Get the company on the phone,” Dane hissed out. “I want them checking every square inch.”

He wrapped an arm around my waist and tucked me against his hard body, leading me to the bank of elevators as I cried from the excruciating agony. The doors slid smoothly, silently open and we stepped into the car. My entire body shook. The venom spread quickly through my veins, racing toward all my extremities.

“I hate them,” I ground out as the doors closed. I could barely speak but said, “I was stung when I was a kid and had a severe neurological reaction to the venom that took tons of meds to correct. And then for years, I’d wake up in the middle of the night and swear they were crawling all over me.”

I’d gotten over my aversion to spiders pretty damn quick. They didn’t compare to quick-moving scorpions with pinchers and lightning-fast tails that coiled upward for the strike. The babies were the worst, because they didn’t know when the threat was over, didn’t know when to stop stinging. They just kept pumping in venom. I knew from experience.

My heart thundered and I couldn’t catch my breath.

Dane said, “I should take you to the hospital.”

“No. Let me ride it out. He only got me once.” Though the pain was nearly unbearable. And my heart raced.

Amano met us on the fourth floor. He’d been waiting outside my office and followed us in. Dane explained what happened.

Amano went for ice at the wet bar, saying over his shoulder, “We don’t have a scorpion problem on-property.”

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly,” Dane ground out. “Check her office.”

“You don’t think—” I started to say, when a terrifying thought occurred to me. “Oh, my God. Dane.”

“What?” he demanded.

“We were standing right here. Remember?” I urged through my tears and the throbbing in my hand. I thought of the night he’d come in while we were working late. He’d done all manner of wicked things to me—then fabricated the beavers chewing-through-wire story after Ethan had called. “The security lines had just been cut and I said at least it wasn’t an infestation of—”

Dane raised a finger to his lips and whispered, “Shhh.” Turning to Amano, he said in a low tone, “Sweep for a different kind of bug.”