the thought aside. She would never be so committed to anything. "Hey, Abigail, how are you doing? Rachel enquired. "I'm working, but I must run an errand, so please be brief." "I just want t

, prepared to vomit at the thought of Matt. "I'm grateful," she said. "I'm glad you showed up." He said, "I'm happy you gave me a call." "That was very smart of you." She gave a headshake. Her words, "It was a hail, Mary," She chuckled nervously, "I'm just glad I pressed one of my speed dial numbers and you knew where I was." She shivered, considering what would have happened if she hadn't done that. "I couldn't see my phone and had to do it behind my back." After removing his coat, Daniel wrapped it around her shoulders. He said, "Let's take you home." "You need to rest and calm down." She nodded, feeling abruptly worn out. "I only need to rest for a few minutes," she replied. "I'll be okay, I swear." "Yes," he said. "But please let me take you home. For my peace of mind." Abigail took a quick look at him and saw that he appeared more traumatized than she did. His breath came out sharply, and his hands were shaking. Well, she replied. "Let's go." Daniel's vehicle entered his home's garage. As the garage door closed, Abigail silently gazed out the window. He parked the car and sat next to her silently for a while. "I'd feel better if we head inside my place instead of yours. I can grab you a change of clothes if you'd like." I nodded, Abigail. "I neglected to pick up your dry cleaning." We could pick it up on the way home. "My attire is not a concern. He said, "I have plenty upstairs." and unlocked the car door. He turned around, opened her door, and gently, giving her just the right amount of room, stepped beside her and assisted her inside his home. "Come on, let's get you inside." He kept his hand on the small of her back without letting go, as if he wanted confirmation that she was still there. They entered the kitchen through the garage. It was furnished much like her flat downstairs. Lots of room and pastel hues. Everything was elegant and beautifully done. The kitchen included hardwood cabinetry, a state-of-the-art stove and refrigerator, and gleaming granite countertops. Daniel took her through the kitchen and into the living area, which had leather couches, a flat-screen TV, and walls covered in pictures and paintings in various styles. There was a spiral staircase beside the fireplace. She had to be living in the most opulent home she had ever seen. She could only assume that the masculinity of the space extended to his bedroom as well. As he walked her to one of the leather couches, Daniel showed her little regard for her amazement and said nothing about it. "Sit down. I'll go make tea." She declared, "There isn't any need." She did feel much better today, so she said, "I'm fine now. I promise." All she wanted was a heavy drink to wash away the terrible taste in her mouth. He marched over to the kitchen and poured a teapot with water, saying, "Even if you are, I'm not." "And I know you're not, Abigail. You haven't stopped trembling." Abigail clenched her fists together to quell the shaking. "I'm okay," she declared. "Just a little shaken up." He turned on the stove, returned, sat down, and furrowed his brow at her, saying, "Which means you're not fine." His fingers grazed the bruises that were starting to appear on her arms. Softly, "Does anything hurt?" he inquired. Unable to speak while he was caressing her so tenderly, Abigail shook her head. How could he, with a mere touch, make her mind go blank? "I wish there were some way I could make the bruises go away," he replied. "What on earth was that fool thinking?" "They'll get better," she stumbled. Oh no, why was she never able to think clearly around him? "I'm sorry," he said. With conflicting feelings of need and concern, he leaned in closer to her. Abigail's breathing became more rapid, but not because she was afraid. Precisely the reverse. She really shouldn't be fantasizing about him kissing her right now. It was incorrect in far too many ways. Daniel hurried to shut off the whistling teapot after it started. "What type of tea do you like?" "Do you have peppermint?" she inquired while self-fanning. "Yes," he said. He unlocked a cabinet, revealing row upon row of tea to Abigail. He saw her stare and grinned. "I enjoy tea." He shrugged. "Everyone always gives me tea gift sets when they need to buy me a present because it's one of the few things they know about me." She answered, trying not to giggle, "I see." "Well, there are worse presents to get," she said, glancing at a picture hanging on the wall. Along with an older couple, D