“It’s terrifying that they’re some of the best pioneers in psychiatric medicine and research.”
“Not everyone can be as chivalrous as you,” I tease.
He frowns. “Chivalrous? That’s a first. I’m not known for my chivalry.”
Goosebumps spread across my skin. “What are you known for? Obviously nothing like them,” I add.
He stops walking and turns to face me. “Just because I’m against evil doesn’t make me good. Trust me.”
I laugh. “You help people every day. I’ve seen it,” I reply, trailing after him as he opens the door of the hotel for me.
“I help my patients, but we’re not talking about that, are we?” he asks, not looking at me as he strides toward the private elevator.
Once we’re inside, the doors shut us in together, and I turn to face him. “You’re not a bad person, in case that’s what you’re insinuating.”
“Let me ask you this,” he drawls, his voice a low purr. “Do you think men like my colleagues are born like that, or do you think it’s circumstantial? Are monsters born, or are they made?”
I open and close my mouth as the elevator dings and the doors slide open. Dr. Kincaid exits the elevator and walks over to the door of the suite.
“It depends,” I offer, crossing my arms and leaning against the door so that he can’t open it.
Instead of asking me to move, however, he takes a step into my personal space and reaches for the key card in his back pocket. My breath hitches and I nearly gasp as his hand brushes mine, pressing the key card against the black pad right next to my waist. I expect him to push the door open, but he doesn’t. One hand comes to the door, laying flat just above my head and pinning me to the spot.
“I’ve spent my career trying to figure out that question. Are monsters born, or are they made? Are we predisposed to certain things, or are we forced into them due to the environment we’re raised in?”
“Both,” I offer, chest rising and falling. He’ssoclose?—
He lets out a cruel laugh. “I think we’re born with darkness. And I think certain things cause that darkness to seep into our bloodstreams. Like a chemical being activated and turned on. My colleagues are having some harmless fun, sure, but what about the rest of the population who think about the most depraved things imaginable? What stops a person like them from raping or assaulting the women they fuck?” he asks, his voice laced with venom.
My eyes flick between his, which are now a dark emerald rather than the light, lime color they typically are.
“Just food for thought,” he muses, eyes trailing down to my lips.
An electric shock zaps through me when he does, ending between my legs and causing my nipples to harden. His breath smells like wine and cinnamon, and this close I can see the gold flecks sparkling in his eyes—which are accentuated by his dark, thick lashes.
“That’s the second time you’ve no-so-subtly told me to stay away from you,” I breathe, trying to get oxygen to my lust-filled brain.
“And you should listen,” he nearly growls.
He taps the key card again and pushes the door open, causing me to stumble backward.
I take a few steps into the room and watch as he closes and locks the door.
Just keep your door locked, Francesca.
Since there’s nowhere for me to go other than the bedroom, I start walking toward that part of the suite.
“Good night, Francesca,” he murmurs, sifting through some paperwork he picked up during one of the sessions earlier today.
“Night.”
I walk inside the bedroom and close the door, but I don’t lock it.
Devil in Disguise
FRankie
The clickof the bedroom door registers belatedly and since I’m still clinging to sleep, everything sounds like it’s underwater and far away. I stretch and yawn, bringing my hands above my head. An eerie prickle of awareness floods through me, but it’s still not enough to rouse me from my sleep. The feeling is itching to get out, itching to warn me about something, but I’m warm and content, so I ignore it. What could possibly be so wrong when I feel so good? Squeezing my legs together, pleasure floods through me, and I realize I must’ve been having another one of those dreams?—
