"I can't let you do this." He grabbed her by the arm and hauled her out of the car.
Work was the only sane, stable thing she had left. She wasn't losing her job on top of everything else. She struggled as he hustled her up the driveway. "Let go of me!" She smacked his shoulder with her briefcase.
He pulled her against his hard body, restricting her movement. "Will you cut that out?" he growled into her ear. "I don't want to accidentally hurt you. But I am not turning you loose."
Hurricane Gabe had stolen everything, including her heart. He was not taking her independence, too. She kicked him in the shin. "Yes, you are."
"Damn, Tessa!" He flinched, but hung on. He inhaled sharply, then swooped her up and carried her inside.
She tried to wriggle free. "Put me down!"
"Can't afford to. I've only got one good leg left." He carried her down the hallway and into his bedroom.
"What are you doing? I'm going to be late!"
"Sorry, sweetheart." He dropped her on the bed. Holding her down with one hand, he rummaged in the nightstand drawer.
In the blink of an eye, both her wrists were handcuffed to the wooden headboard. "Valentine Gabriel Colton!" she yelled. "Unlock these this instant!"
"No can do." He stood back and crossed his arms, "Let's see you get out of that, Houdini."
"Motion sickness pills be hanged, next time I'll feed you rat poison!" Gasping for breath, she yanked furiously on the cuffs, ignoring the metal's cold bite into her tender skin.
He leaned down to grasp both her arms, holding her immobile. "Don't struggle. You'll hurt yourself."
She stopped wrenching on the handcuffs, but her anger raged like a living thing, seething and burning inside. How dare he!
"Calm down," he soothed. "Let's discuss this rationally."
She gritted her teeth. "Easy for you to say, you're not the one being held prisoner."
"Talk about a fantasy."
In spite of her rage, his suggestive chuckle, and the resulting images her traitorous mind conjured up sent desire hurtling through her. Which made her even madder. How could she possibly be attracted to such an infuriating man? "Pervert."
He laughed. "I have a beautiful, sexy woman handcuffed to my bed." He leaned over her. "Helpless and at my mercy."
She was through playing games. "Not quite." She slammed her knee into his stomach.
He groaned, doubling over.
"Count yourself fortunate I didn't aim a few inches lower, or The Spy Who Loved Me would be out of commission."
Wheezing, he fell into a chair. "I believe I just made the numero uno mistake my martial arts instructors warned against." His laugh turned into a moan. He pressed his hand to his stomach. "Never underestimate your opponent." He sobered. "But I'm not your enemy, Tessie. I'm on your side, remember?"
At his soft words, pictures scrolled through her mind. Gabe rescuing her from Gregson. Gabe shielding her with his body in the park. Gabe standing protectively between her and Leo.
Remorse drowned her fury. She closed her eyes, let her head fall back against the wooden headboard. "I'm sorry."
He crossed to the bed, sank down beside her and gently stroked her cheek. "If I let you go, will you stay put?"
The fight drained out of her. She was normally calm and reasonable. Even under the worst provocation, she never lost her temper. What was it about Gabe that brought out her most primal emotions? Passionate, frightening emotions she needed to keep under tight rein. "Yes."
He used a tiny key to unlock the cuffs, then grasped her hands and turned them palms up. "Did I hurt you?"
She looked at the blue bruises shadowing her ivory skin. "I hurt myself." Not only with the handcuffs. She'd hurt herself by allowing Lucille to manipulate her, by settling for second best with Dale, and most of all by striving uselessly all these years for Vivienne and Jules's approval.
No more, she vowed.
Holding her gaze, he raised her arm and pressed a soft kiss on the tender inside of her wrist. Then he kissed the other wrist.
Her stomach lurched. Gasping, she snatched her hands away. "Don't!"
He stood, somehow understanding her inner turbulence, her need for distance. "You're having a tough time of it. How can I help?"
She longed for normalcy, for a haven from the emotional and physical upheaval of the past weeks. "Take me home. I miss my piano, my plants and Andrew, Lloyd and Webber. I want to make sure everything is okay. I've put up with