When I awoke, Blaise was nowhere in sight, and there was a plate of food on the chair next to the bed. I sat up, feeling better than I had that morning and grabbed the plate. I was starving. The sandwich and chips were much better than the runny eggs and burnt toast Blaise had brought me earlier. But who could mess up a sandwich? I felt even better after eating and scooted higher up on the bed to rest my back against the headboard.

I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t get up and walk around without risking opening my foot back up. I was trapped in Blaise’s bed, a bed I’d just spent one of the best nights of my life in a few nights earlier. The sheets smelled like him—spicy, masculine, warm, and comforting. If I was being completely honest, I did want him nearby. What I didn’t want was to give up my independence. A relationship, by definition, would force me to do that. Wouldn’t it? I’d have to compromise, have someone keep tabs on me, answer to another person, make sacrifices. Yet, here I still was. Leave it to me to have a one night stand that never ended.

As though thinking about him had conjured him up, Blaise walked into the room, fresh from a shower. The towel wrapped around his waist, slung low on his hips, did nothing to hide the bulge he sported. His hair was wet, and droplets of water ran down his chest and abs to meet the top of that towel. Torture. Pure agony.

My body wanted him, no doubt about that, but it would seem that, in other ways, he and I were completely incompatible. He seemed stuck in a mindset that hadn’t been popular in almost a hundred years ago.

“Hey.”

He wanted a maid, I reminded myself. He wanted to control me and keep me like a possession, I reminded myself. The huge dummy in me didn’t care, though. It reacted with a wild force, even stronger than when I’d first seen him.

“Chyna…” Blaise stepped toward me, his expression strained. “Stop looking at me that way.”

I blinked and felt my face flush. “I’m feeling much better.”

“I will dress, and then I will help you bathe. Cherry and Cezar are coming over later.” He walked over to the stacks of new clothes and took a T-shirt off the top of one of the stacks and a pair of jeans off another before stepping back into the bathroom, presumably to dress. “Since you’re feeling better, they will take you home.”

My heart sank. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach and had to bite my lip to stop tears from forming. It made zero sense, but I wanted to cry and demand an explanation.

A minute passed, and then Blaise came out dressed in the brand-new clothes. His feet were still bare as he walked across to me. I wasn’t completely sure, but I thought I could hear—maybe feel—a thought. It didn’t make any sense, though:

She is free. I am not my father.

“I will carry you to the tub, and you can do the rest. You’ll feel better when you are clean.”

“What changed?”

“Changed?”

“Yeah, this whole time you’ve been like ‘Stay, stay, don’t leave,’ and now you’re all set to get rid of me. What gives?”

“I am not set to get rid of you. But I would like you to want to be here.” He ran his fingers through his hair and scowled. “I am not a demon.”

“I’ll never want to be your maid, Blaise. Or your little housewife. That’s not…it’s not for me.” I forced myself to hold his gaze and ignore the huge dummy inside that wanted him to beg me to stay. “I’m not interested in being controlled.”

“I am not controlling—” Blaise’s raised voice showed his frustration. “I am not controlling. I am just conditioned to think of things in a certain way.”

“You cannot boss me around.”

“For fire’s sake, Chyna, I’m letting you go. What more do you want?”

“You’re letting me go? There you go again.”

I could feel the frustration rolling off him. Flexing his hands at his sides, he glared at me. “I do not want you to leave. I am trying to give you what you want.”

By that time, I’d gotten control of myself again and my guard was back up. My conviction to get away was restored. Shaking my head, I averted my eyes. “You and I will never work.”

He came toward me, his anger and frustration still seemingly tangible, but I wasn’t afraid of him. Like I weighed nothing, he scooped me up and carried me toward the bathroom. “I did not want this, either. I did not walk into that bar expecting that I was going to find my mate. I was perfectly contented with my life.”

“Were you just looking to find someone to fuck?” Why I cared, why I was asking, was beyond me.

His eyes narrowed. “And if I was?”

I jerked my head toward him, a sour taste in the back of my throat. What could I say to that? Not a whole helluvalot. “Then we would’ve both been there for the same reason.”

“You were there…”

“Yes. Yes, I was. I was looking to get laid. Just looking for someone, anyone, to fuck. I was sick and tired of being a virgin. In fact, until you walked in and got in my face, your buddy Armand was on the fast track to getting lucky.” I wanted to hurt Blaise for some reason. Probably because picking a fight made it easier for me to follow through on leaving.

I watched as the dragon flashed across Blaise’s face. His eyes burned bright reddish gold, and his skin became a dark shade of crimson with golden veins threaded through it. He held me tighter, closer to his body, but his grip was still careful.

“Do not say that to me.” The low growl was a warning for me to stop toying with him.

I couldn’t stop myself, though. “If Armand would have just been a little quicker, he and I would have been long gone and bumping uglies by the time you arrived. He would have been my first instead of you.”

Blaise put me down in the bathtub and let out a sound that seemed to be a combination of growl and roar. “You are mine. If you desire for me to prove it to you, for me to fight to win you, I will. I will challenge any dragon for the right to claim you. I’ll chain you to my bed if I flaming have to.” His fists opened slightly to accommodate the huge claws that were extending from his fingertips.

A sick satisfaction purred inside me. Anger and arousal swirled, and I climbed to my feet, careful to stand on my good foot. “You don’t own me. You’re just the one-night stand that never ended!”

He laughed wickedly. “Yet, your body is aching for me, mate. I can smell you. Is it what I said about being chained to my bed? You want that, don’t you? Perhaps your truest desire is to serve me.”

I slapped him. It was like someone else had possessed me. As soon as my hand landed on his cheek, I gasped and snapped out of my fury-fueled rage. “Oh, god. Oh, no. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean… I’m sorry, Blaise.”

His back was as stiff as a tree trunk as he jerked away from me and stormed out of the bathroom.

I sank into the tub and held my face in my hands as I cried. I couldn’t believe I’d struck him. I couldn’t believe I’d said the things I’d said. What was happening to me? I wanted to run after him and apologize. To top it off, his feelings were clearly projected to me, and I could feel his pain as he left. It was as strong as my own, maybe stronger. He was hurting, and it was my fault. I’d picked a fight because I was a coward.

The worst thing, the absolute worst thing, was that above his pain, what he really wanted most was to come back and make sure I was okay. He was still worried about me, even after I’d assaulted him. I was such an incredible bitch. He was doing everything he could to make me comfortable and care for me, including sending me home—because I demanded it. If only I could have retreated to my ignorance so I could still be angry with him and sorry for myself. It would be easier that way because then I’d be able to walk away blissfully ignorant of how much I was hurting him. And I did have to walk away. Now more than ever, it was obvious a woman like me was far too broken.