Free Never A Choice (The Choices Trilogy (Book 1)) by Dee Palmer Page B

quiet of the restaurant. In a suit he is stunning but dressed as casual bad boy he is lethal and he looks like he has no intention of moving any time soon.
    “That’s Danny, you’ll be all right with him Bets.” Joe smiles at me and then shrugs like I’m making a big old fuss over nothing.
    “Well, I don’t really have a choice now do I?” I‘m exasperated. “He seems to know enough about me already, he doesn’t need to know where I actually live as well.” I am not sure what he does know exactly but I need to find out, so a lift home might be an opportunity to get some information and do some damage control.
    “Right, is Marco at his place tonight?” I ask Sofia
    “Yes why?” She frowns at my change of topic, clearly not following this simple situation she has just made complex.
    “Because I do actually have to go somewhere and his place isn’t far so, it won’t take me too long to get back here.” Sofia looks disappointed. “I would go to yours Sofs but I still have stuff to do tonight.” I feel exhausted, defences are low and it’s not an ideal time to be putting myself in close confines with Daniel Stone.
    “Mr Stone.” I’m going to try and steer clear of the ‘Sir’ thing that seems way too natural for me when talking with Mr Stone and only contributes to this strange need I feel to comply with his demands, which for the life of me I can’t understand. He raises a brow.
    “Miss Thorne.” He steps closer and smiles. His lips look soft and I feel mine part with a small intake of breath. My throat is dry; there is no way I’m going to survive a car ride feeling like this. “Shall we?” He places his hand in the small of my back, my body jolts and tingles. He gently drapes his jacket over my shoulders against the chill outside. His fingers lightly hold my shoulders and I’m trembling once more at the slightest contact. We walk in silence and as we reach his car, I stop as he open the door.
    “Why are you doing this?” My question surprises him, it shouldn’t. His smile boarders on wicked and I shiver but not from the chill in the air.
    “Well, Miss Thorne, I think you have some concerns I’d like to address, you have secrets I’d like to know and you have drawn some incorrect conclusions about my intentions.’” His calm recitation of his list doesn’t help one bit in enlightening me.
    I slide into the car; it’s an F-type Jaguar Coupe. I know this because Marco loves cars, I know nothing else other than its pretty, dark green, sleek and shiny with a pristine soft cream leather interior. I look at my poorly bandaged thumb and see it’s started to seep already. I wince as I grip it tightly to try and stop the flow. The pain will help me focus on the burn of the cut rather than the liquid pool of heat building between my legs.
    “What’s wrong?” His voice is filled with genuine concern.
    “Nothing, just trying not to bleed all over you very clean and very cream interior.” I smile waving my injured hand. “No 12 Guard Gardens, it’s about 2 miles, won’t take 5 minutes in this thing.”
    “Thing? Thing.” He repeats, clearly affronted. “This is an F-type R five litre V8 550 PS super charged engine with 680Nm of torque, nought to sixty in four seconds with a top speed of over one eighty.”
    “Very useful in a city with a top speed of thirty miles per hour.” I snort, it’s not very ladylike but can’t be helped. “Sorry, it’s a car, you know A to B.”
    “You don’t drive?” He faces me for a moment but even that short moment has my senses on high alert.
    “I do but I don’t, I love to walk.” The remaining journey is in silence. The tension is palpable. He pulls up outside Marcos’ flat.
    “You didn’t address any concerns?” I question the silence now that I start to undo my seatbelt.
    “Your home?” He asks ignoring my question.
    “Yep, that’s right! Thank you Mr Stone.” I go to open the door. He reaches across and holds my hand against the