He Claims Me by Cynthia Sax Page A

skin.
    â€œSomeone dared to hurt you?” Blaine’s body tenses, his muscles contracting under me. “Tell me his name.” His voice becomes scarily soft, his eyes hardening to emerald chips. “I promise he’ll never touch you again.”
    I shiver at the implied threat. Blaine always keeping his promises. “You won’t harm him.” I tilt my chin upward. “It was an accident. I told him I loved . . . cared about someone else and he grabbed me, temporarily forgetting his own strength. Once he discovered he was hurting me, he let me go.”
    â€œHe grabbed you,” Blaine growls, not commenting on my revealing slip of the tongue. “And he hurt you, Anna.” He holds me close, his scent and body heat comforting me, his shoulders wide and capable. “I won’t tolerate either of those actions. I can’t. You’re too important to me.” He rubs his palms along my back, sending sweet sensations over my body. “When I find out who he is, I’ll—­”
    â€œYou’ll do nothing.” I meet Blaine’s gaze, narrowing my eyes. “Because if you hurt him, he’ll press charges and you’ll go to prison. My father died in prison.” My voice breaks. “I can’t lose you too, Blaine. I just . . . can’t.” I look away from him, unable to contain my emotion.
    â€œYou won’t lose me.” He cups my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “We’re growing old together, you and I.” Blaine presses his lips to my forehead, his heated touch reassuring me. He’s here, alive, and he’ll remain alive. I’ll protect him as he protects me.
    I bury deeper into his hard form and he holds me, his suit-­clad chest rising and falling against my breasts, the connection between us strong. He’s my sanctuary in this harsh, unforgiving world, the truth in an endless abyss of lies.
    â€œWhere are we going?” I gaze up at him. Blaine’s determination is etched upon his face, his angles sharper, more pronounced.
    â€œI’m taking you to dinner,” Blaine murmurs. “If you’re able.” He traces my bruises, his touch gentle and his expression stormy. “I don’t want you seeing him again, nymph. He could have broken your arms.”
    â€œHe didn’t break my arms and I’m able to go to dinner.” I wiggle, brushing my ass against his thighs, and Blaine’s hands lower to my hips, some of his anger flowing to desire. “Is this a date?” I’ve never been on a date, a real date, before, having never trusted a man enough to choose to be alone with him.
    â€œThis is a business dinner, unfortunately.” Blaine bends his dark head and scatters soft kisses over my arms. “Volkov and his wife are visiting from New York. He’s stalling on the sale.”
    I wrinkle my nose. “Is the sale in jeopardy?” Blaine has been working on this New York deal longer than we’ve known each other. It’s important to him and, as a result it’s important to me.
    â€œWe can’t give him any reason not to sell. Volkov is understandably nervous. This involves his life’s work and his employees.” Blaine picks up his phone and texts quickly, his fingers flying over the tiny keys. “I’m asking Yen to bring your shawl.”
    â€œMy shawl?” I tilt my head. I don’t own a shawl, my wardrobe extremely limited. Everything I own fits in one carry-­on suitcase.
    â€œI saw it in a boutique and thought of you,” Blaine says gruffly. “I’ll introduce you as Anna. Nothing much gets by Volkov. He won’t believe you’re my assistant.”
    â€œSo I shouldn’t lie to him.” I nibble on my bottom lip, excited and nervous about our first public appearance as a ­couple.
    â€œDon’t lie to him or to his wife.” Blaine runs his thumb over my abused flesh. “You’ll