Read Playing His Dangerous Game for Free Online Page B

waited for a break in the traffic. Then, without indicating, she swung hard on the wheel and with a screech of tyres pulled over on the side of the road.
    The blast of car horns that hit her eardrums suggested Steve had followed suit, but she waited until she’d brought her car to a halt before having a proper look.
    Steve was right behind her.
    He was getting out of his car.
    Shara started to shake. Her hands grew sweaty. Her heart thumped.
    The sight of her ex-husband was enough to make her feel sick and anxious. It was a feeling she remembered all too well. It dominated her consciousness, blotting everything else out.
    With a squeal of tyres another vehicle screeched to a halt beside her. A quick glance showed her it was the big 4WD.
    Royce.
    He ignored the fact that he was blocking one lane of traffic and jumped from his vehicle.
    Her relief was so strong that Shara fumbled for the door latch and did the same.
    Royce looked so big and solid. So reassuringly safe.
    Without thinking, she flung herself at him. ‘Boy, am I glad to see you!’
    Strong arms closed around her.
    Shara was aware of heat and the smell of warm male skin. She was also aware of the strength and power barely contained in the muscled lines of his body.
    Cocooned against Royce’s chest, Shara felt safe and secure.
    She also felt something else.
    A ripple of desire.
    It was the first time she’d admitted, even to herself, that that was what the curling sensation in her belly she experienced every time she looked at him was all about.
    Now she had no choice but to acknowledge it.
    It packed quite a punch.
    Enough to make her push away from him.
    She was just over-reacting to their close proximity and to the adrenalin pumping through her system.
    That was all.
    It was nothing personal.
    If she told herself that often enough she might even believe it.
    Royce clasped her wrists and pulled her hands down from around his neck before she could completely disengage herself.
    ‘Stay there,’ he said, dragging her behind him so that he stood between her and Steve.
    Nothing more was said.
    Not a single word.
    The air was filled with menace. Filled so completely that it raised the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck.
    She could feel Royce’s body braced for action, but it wasn’t needed. She heard the scuffle of footsteps, the slamming of a car door, and then the screech of tyres as the black sedanraced off, leaving behind a trail of exhaust smoke and the smell of burning rubber.
    As soon as Steve had disappeared Royce turned, a heavy frown on his face. Gripping the tops of her arms, he gave her a brief hard shake before putting his face next to hers. ‘You little fool. Sneaking off like that was stupid and reckless. What on earth were you thinking?’
    Shara blinked, her heart leaping into the back of her throat.
    Royce was angry.
    Very angry.
    Steve had looked at her the same way many times.
    Now, as then, she shrank in on herself—both physically and mentally. Her shoulders hunched, her muscles contracted, her breath shortened.
    The grey, smoke-filled fog of fear closed around her like a shroud. Suffocating. Deadening. Numbing.
    ‘I … I’m s … sorry,’ she stammered. Inside she cringed at how apologetic she sounded. She hadn’t heard that particular tone of voice come out of her mouth since she’d been with Steve. ‘I wasn’t thinking.’
    Shame washed through her.
    She didn’t want to revert to the woman she’d been when she’d been with Steve.
    The reasons for staying in an abusive relationship were many and varied, and had nothing to do with the victim’s character or strength of will.
    It had taken Shara a long time to come to terms with why
she’d
stayed with Steve.
    One reason was that she hadn’t wanted to admit that marrying Steve had been a mistake. Her father had been against the marriage. He’d told her she was rushing into things. She hadn’t wanted to admit that he’d been right.
    But the driving force—the thing