He bent down and, hooking one arm beneath her knees and another around her waist, scooped her off the floor. He handled her as easily as if she were made of tissue paper rather than flesh and blood.

The brush clattered back onto the dresser.

He grinned down at her and she glared back. "What do you think you’re doing?"

"Tomorrow."

She blinked. "What?"

"Call him tomorrow."

She rolled her eyes. "You’re such an old woman."

"Dani." That one word was rife with meaning.

"Did I hear a threat in there?"

"Maybe." He waggled his eyebrows. "Definitely."

"Call him or what? You’ll throw me into the harbor or something?"

"Not exactly what I was thinking, but thanks for the idea. I’ll just have to file that away for future reference."

She narrowed her eyes. "Stop man handling me. You know I hate it."

"Liar." As he walked over to the bed, she silently acknowledged the truth of it. And silently thanked the tooth fairy that somehow the subject had changed.

She ran a hand over his chest, through the fine spattering of hairs, and over a pair of nipples that hardened at her touch. He felt warm, smelled of spices and musk. "It’s just not fair, you know."

"What? What’s not fair?"

She leaned in and kissed his chest, flicking her tongue over his nipple and savoring the salty taste of his sweat. She heard a soft groan and murmured against his skin, "I’ve been going to the gym three times a week for the past year and I still can’t do a single chin-up." She looked up at him from beneath hooded eyes. "You do nothing. You sit around in a chair all day, and yet you’re built like Astro-man or something."

"I don’t do nothing. I jog." He shrugged, smiled evilly. "Can I help it if I’m genetically superior?"

"Really?" she teased. "To what?"

He glared at her. "You’ll pay for that."

"Mm hmm. Whatever. Now let me go."

"I don’t think so."

She put up a token struggle, but he clamped her against him. He held her firm, immobile, his arms like velvet-lined vices.

"Why not? What do you plan to do with me?" She tried to sound suspicious, and perhaps a little fearful.

"Why, have my way with you, of course."

"Oh, really? What if I don’t want to?"

He threw her on the bed and pounced, straddling her and pinning her wrists against the pillows as the weight of his body pressed her more deeply into the mattress. Those vibrant blue eyes had darkened, taken on the ominous glint that always set her heart to pounding.

"Are you asking me to stop?" The silk in his voice had taken on an edge, one that hinted at hidden power and raw hunger.

She licked her lips and watched him watching the motion of her tongue. His grip on her wrists tightened and she felt his cock harden against her thigh.

"Answer me, dammit."

"Yes," she whispered, her chest heaving with every breath. She was mesmerized by him, by his eyes and by his strength. Captivated by what he’d become, what he’d transformed into in a heartbeat.

This wasn’t the light-hearted Luke who put on corny accents and donned clown noses in order to entertain anxious children. This wasn’t the professional Luke who attended conferences and taught classes in advanced dentistry techniques. This was another Luke, one that remained hidden to all but a very few—a very special, very intimate few. This Luke was passionate and powerful, dominant, dark and just a little bit dangerous. In this Luke she sensed the outer edge of some deeper pain. She understood that kind of pain and, perhaps because of that, felt herself being drawn to it.

He was the most fascinating and exciting man she’d ever met.

"Yes, what?" He bent low and tasted her lips, tracing her bottom lip with his tongue and then drawing it lightly between his teeth, tearing at her composure, scraping away a little of the veneer she habitually wore.

His cock was nestled against her pussy, and she fought the urge to arch her hips against him. She whimpered. "Yes. I mean no." She panted. "I mean...I want you to stop."

"I don’t believe you." He gripped both of her tiny wrists in one large hand and reached beneath a pillow with the other. "Why don’t I believe you?"

He pulled out his prize and her eyes went wide at the contraption that dangled from his fingers. "What’s that?"

"This is my new best friend, and your nemesis." He flicked his wrist and she heard the distinctive click of metal as the device sprang open. Steel handcuffs lined with black velvet.

"I...I don’t know about this." They’d done some experimenting, toyed with a little bondage, but had always improvised with strips of soft cloth ripped from old sheets or other linens. It had always been light, even playful. The thought of something as...ruthless as handcuffs, lined with velvet or not, sent a little shiver down her spine.

He snapped a cuff around her left wrist and then hauled her to a seated position. Her breasts ground against his chest as he snapped the second cuff into place, securing her hands behind her back.

"I don’t recall asking your opinion." His grin was wicked, his eyes haunting.

She opened her mouth to protest, but he stole the words from her throat. His kiss was fierce, hungry, demanding. He overwhelmed her body and dissolved her will.