“Abby. Abby?”

I jolt out of my thoughts and force a smile for my date’s benefit.

Travis was dressed up in a clean button-up shirt and a pair of faded jeans. I find myself thinking that he could look so much better in a suit and tie.

Feeling my lower abdomen clench at the thought of someone I knew who looked so delicious in his suit, I take a sip of the water to calm myself down.

“You okay?” Travis looks a little concerned. “You look a little flushed.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just a little overworked.”

He reaches over to put his hand over mine, and grins, “Well, you can unwind all you want, today.”

I stare at his hand on mine and it annoys me that I felt nothing.

No spark, no lust.

The dress that Scarlett had put on me was a gorgeous red number that reached my knees and highlighted all my curves. It was a strapless thing and right now, as I felt Travis’s eyes on my generous boobs which were slightly uplifted by the dress, I just wanted to cover up.

Five minutes into the dinner and I already knew this was a stupid idea.

I just wasn’t interested in Travis.

I idly watch him finish his glass of wine and pour himself another.

I know this whole thing had been my idea, but I should have realized this was never going to work.

“So, how’s your new job?” There was a slight slur in Travis’s words and I remembered too late that Scarlett had warned me that he was a lightweight.

“It’s going good. My students are all teenagers.”

My words trail-off as I see his eyes transfixed on my chest again.

“Travis, my eyes are up here,” I say, tightly.

There was a sloppy grin on his face, “Sorry. I got distracted.”

I stand up, “Excuse me for a moment.”

I make my way through the crowded restaurant to the restroom, and turning the corner, I immediately lean against the wall.

Taking out my phone, I dial Scarlett.

“How’s the date going?” She demands cheerfully, after picking up on the second ring.

“Did you tell him I wanted to sleep with him?” I hiss at her.

“What? No!”

“I want to leave,” I say, bluntly.

Her voice turns serious, “Is he being a douche?”

I rub my temples with my free hand, “He’s half drunk, Scarlett. He’s complimented my boobs five times. He keeps staring at them like some sleazy perv. I’m not comfortable.”

“You want me fake an emergency call?”

“Would you?” I ask, gratefully. “In ten minutes.”

“You got it, babe.”

Tucking the phone into my purse, I return to my date.

As I sit down, I notice that my date was pouring himself a generous serving of his third glass of wine.

“Maybe you should take it a little easy on the wine, Travis,” I say, a little uneasy.

“Why?” He laughs. “Tonight’s all ours.”

He reaches under the table and puts his hand on my bare leg, making my eyes widen.

“Stop that,” I say, tersely, a sliver of panic sliding up my spine.

He winks at me, not removing his hand, “Don’t be so uptight.”

His hand crawl higher under my dress and he tries to force my legs apart. My heart starts beating faster in panic and disgust, “I said stop it!”

My chair falls down with a loud clatter as I stand up.

I didn’t say a word, neither did I let him speak. I just grabbed my purse and walked out of the restaurant, ignoring the people staring at me.

I wanted to put as much space between us as possible!

I didn’t even stop for my coat.

A few hot tears roll down my cheeks and I feel so cheap and dirty.

Oh, God!

I needed to calm down!

But the panic attack was setting again, reminding me of memories that I had buried. The tears wouldn’t stop, as I kept pulling my dress down.

What on earth had possessed me to do such a thing!

I don’t know for how long I walked.

My bare-arms were feeling numb with the cold and I felt dazed. I wanted to go home. I wanted Scarlett. I –

“Abby?”

The familiar voice from behind me made me whirl around and on seeing Steven’s shocked face, I just burst into tears.

“Sweetheart, what -?”

I feel his warm trench coat thrown over my shoulder, as he drags me closer, “What are you doing out here, dressed like that?”

My tears wouldn’t stop, I just clench my fingers into his expensive suit and bury my face in his jacket.

“Come on,” He guides me to his car and helps me in, closing the door behind him.

When he slides into the seat next to me, he cranks up the heater to full, letting my half-frozen body soak in some heat.

He turns to me, anger mixed with concern, “What happened?”

I rub my eyes, feeling raw, “I – I was on a date, and he – he –“

I couldn’t continue, my voice cracking.

If I had been all there, I would have thought that I had never seen this man wear that expression on his face. His eyes held pure fury, and his mouth was pressed in a thin line, “Give me a name.”

I shake my head, “J-Just, can you just take me home, p-please?”

My voice was wavering and small, and he growls out loud, before throwing the car in gear.

I didn’t see where we were going, as I just huddled myself into a ball, wrapping his coat tighter around myself.

Feeling my phone vibrate, I take it out, my hands numb and stare at the caller ID.

It was Scarlett.

“H-Hello?”

“Abby, are you okay? I’ve been calling over and over, again! Where are you?!”

My voice trembles, “T-Travis put his hand on my l-leg and then he tried to – I had to leave, Scarlett!”

“What the fuck! Where are you right now?” I could hear the upset in her tone.

“I – I ran into Steven. He’s –“

My phone is taken from my hand and Steven holds it to his ear, “I’m taking her to my place.”

Scarlett said something to him, and his expression turns dark, “Not if I get there first, lady.”

When he threw the phone into the backseat, I rub my eyes, “Your place? I want to go home.”

He threw me a look that brooked no argument, “My house is closer. You’ll get hypothermia if you stay in that dress any longer.”

I was already shivering despite the heater blasting at me. So, I didn’t say anything, my mind in a confused mess.

There was a reason I played it safe in the dating game.

Scarlett was the only one who knew it.

Back in college, her drunk ex-boyfriend had broken into our apartment and mistaking me for her in the dark, he had crawled into my bed.

I had managed to knock him out at some point, but it had been too late.

The man had been mortified and kept apologizing, and I had been so shaken and upset that I never reported it.

I thought that I had moved on from that. I had been so sure that I wasn’t going to let one incident ruin my life.

Today, when I walked into the restaurant, I had been confident. But the minute his hand crawled up my leg, all those memories resurged.

A firm hand clasped around mine, forcing me out of my dark thoughts.

I met Steven’s steady gaze, “You’re safe now.”

I held on to those three words as a lifeline.

I thought that the presence of another man would have made the situation worse, but Steven’s presence felt like a firm wall that I could lean against.

So, I just let my eyes linger on our enjoined hands and try to breathe slowly to calm myself down.

“Come on. We’re here.”

I look out the window to see a huge mansion.

Although it was night, the entire place was very well-lit. The gardens were covered with snow and what appeared to be a fountain statue, had a stream of water emitting from it that was frozen.

I gingerly step out the car, sliding my hands into the arms of the coat.

Even as it dwarfed me, I snuggled into it, smelling Steven’s unique scent on it.

His arm loop around my waist as he guides me to the front steps of what was the biggest house I had ever seen.

“You live here?” I ask, my teeth chattering with the cold and shock.

My hand swivel to right, to take in the huge pillars and I hear a warm chuckle from him, as he admits, “It was a wedding gift from my grandparents. My grandmother has a fascination with architecture. She designed this whole place.”

I blink, “They live here with you?”

“No, they live in Ireland.”

The door opens and an elderly man in a black suit studies us, “Welcome back, Master Tanner.”

“Um,” I say, awkwardly. “Hi.”

The man gives me a kind look, “Good evening. Should I prepare some dry clothes for your guest, Master Tanner?”

“I’d appreciate that, Jarvis. Have them sent to my room.”

The hallway was well-lit, and I gaped at the array of paintings on the wall.

“I knew you were rich, but I thought you just lived in some fancy penthouse,” I mutter. “Are you sure you’re not royalty?”

Steven grins, relaxing at the fact that I was sufficiently distracted from my shitty experience, “I do have some royal blood in me from my father’s side.”

The staircase was wide, and spiralling, and the bannister shone as if it had been freshly polished. The marble floor under me had a different sort of sheen, reflecting the pale golden lights that lit the hallway.

He guides me to an elevator in the next room and I blink.

Once the doors close, he leans over and pinches both my cheeks, looking a little annoyed, “Stop looking at me like that. It’s just a house.”

My cheeks were stretched, and I garble out, “It’s not a house. It’s a freaking palace.”

The elevator dings, and the door opens to the second floor.

“This way,” Steven tells me, his brow furrowed at the way I was trying to take in everything.

His bedroom was huge.

A huge bed was positioned in the centre of the room, against the wall, with a vanity right across from it. There was a small glass coffee table with two chairs and even from the entrance of the room, I could see some of Aaron’s toys cluttered near it. A small chaise in the corner, next to a huge wardrobe and a door that seemed to lead into a private bathroom.

“Stop gawking,” Steven chastises me.

“Yeah, sure,” I mumble, not paying him any heed.

I put my hand on the bed, marvelling at the softness of the bed spread.

Steven leaves me to my own devices and walks over to the massive fireplace, where he casually lights a fire, as if that was an everyday thing for him.

“Aren’t you worried that the carpet will catch fire?” I ask, my eyes transfixed on the way he looks, kneeling in his suit against the firelight.

He turns to look at me, “There’s a protective screening in front of the fire.”

“Oh.” I wrap my arms around my stomach.

A knock on the door has him walking toward it in long strides, and he opens it with a click, “Jarvis.”

“I can go out and get some clothes for your guest, Sir. There is nothing available at the moment.”

I wince, “Can’t you just lend me a T-shirt or something?”

Steven stares at me, before dismissing Jarvis.

He holds up a black button-up shirt, “Will this do?”

I nod and take it from his outstretched hand.

“The bathroom’s through there,” He points to the small door, next to the wardrobe.

My bare feet padding over the carpeted floor, I twist the handle and let myself in.

I don’t give myself time to gawk over the modern and chic bathroom, quickly stripping from my cold and wet dress.

In the full-length mirror, I study my bare form, clad only in undergarments and my heart beats a little faster at the finger marks on my thigh where Travis had dug his clumsy fingers.

Stumbling to the counter, I wash off my makeup, suddenly not wanting to look the least bit appealing. The shower looks tempting, so I quickly turn the settings to boiling, and wash away any remnants of my date’s touch.

I wanted to keep scrubbing, feeling filthy. Tears slid down my cheeks as I attempted to be clean.

“Abby? Are you okay in there?”

I hear Steven’s voice from where I had curled up into a ball. It centres me, knowing he was out there, on the other side of the door.

I step out of the shower, my voice a little hoarse, “Yeah. Give me a few minutes.”

Drying myself with the towel hanging from the rail, I run it through my hair, letting it absorb the water.

My eyes look hollow as I stare at myself in the mirror, my skin too pale against my dark eyes.

That was okay. I didn’t feel particularly attractive right now.

I step out of the bathroom, with Steven’s black shirt hanging from my small frame. His shirt reaches to my knees, and I was trying to roll up the sleeves.

He was sitting on his bed, resting his elbows on his thighs, his hands clasped together loosely, a frown on his face. His suit jacket was gone, and his sleeves were rolled back till his elbows. His hair was mussed up as if he had been running his fingers through it.

He looks up and I don’t miss the way his eyes move over my form, and I shift, awkwardly.

“It looks better on you than it does on me,” He seems to have intended it as a joke, but neither of us smile, his voice holding an undertone that makes me swallow.

“Come here,” He held out his hand and I find myself making my way to him.

Standing in front of him, I feel a little shy, uncertain.

He holds both my hands and peers into my face, “Are you okay?”

I hesitate, “A lot better. The whole thing shook me. I’m sorry for crying all over you.”

Steven grins, a boyish expression, but there is a hint of anger in his eyes, “You can cry all over me any time.”

It seems to me that all the while I had been in the bathroom, he had been trying to calm himself down.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I study his face, “I don’t think I should.”

“Why not?”

“Because you seem ready to commit murder, and I’m not altogether sure that’s a very good idea.”

Steven doesn’t say anything, lowering his head to stare at my fingers, “I am going to find out who this asshole is, whether you tell me or not. And then I’m going to make him regret for ever laying his hands on you.”

I pull my hands away from him and wrap them around my middle, uncertainty and confusion rearing their heads in my brain, “Why do you care so much?”

I thought he wanted me in his bed.

This went a step beyond that.

He just watches me, those gray eyes holding a mixture of exasperation and annoyance, “Because I care about you, you stupid woman.”