The Pleasure Series: Complete Box Set by M. S. Parker Page B

look out the nearby French doors said I wasn't in the city and I wasn't in an apartment building. I also had a feeling this was only one of many rooms.
    “Where am I?” I asked the question as I pushed myself up into a more dignified sitting position. I was pretty sure I knew the answer, but I needed to center myself.
    “My house.” He didn't offer an explanation or an apology.
    I raised an eyebrow and folded my arms, trying to suppress a shiver. I didn't succeed. For a moment, I thought he would come over to me again, but he didn't. He gestured toward the afghan still lying on my lap. I pulled it around my shoulders, finding it comforting and warm now.
    “Why didn't you take me to a hospital?”
    He hadn't offered an explanation, but I wanted one. Something about him told me I could trust him, but past experience told me to suspect dark motives from everyone. No exceptions.
    “My friend Curt used to have anxiety attacks,” he said. “One of the reasons why he decided to cash in after his car accident. He figured what better way to avoid anxiety than retiring in the Bahamas.”
    “So you knew what was happening?”
    “I strongly suspected. I just didn't know why or how to talk you down,” he said. “When you passed out, I knew your breathing and pulse would go back to normal. I figured it'd be better for you if you woke up someplace safe with someone you knew rather than in a hospital, surrounded by complete strangers.”
    That made sense, I supposed.
    “Are you okay now?” he asked.
    I nodded automatically, so used to saying it that I didn't even stop to consider if it was true.
    “Are you claustrophobic?”
    Something about the way he said the question told me he didn't actually think that was the problem.
    I shook my head, looking away from him. There was a fire going in the nearby fireplace. I stared at the flames, willing the sight of them to heat the part of me that couldn't be reached by the blanket around my shoulders. I didn't want to think about what had triggered the panic attack. I could still feel the darkness there, fluttering at the edge of my mind. On a good day, it took me a couple hours to shake off a mild attack, but this had been anything but mild.
    Movement caught my attention and I turned back to see Rylan moving to kneel in front of me. He put his hands on either side of mine, but didn't grip onto them. “Jenna, you know you can trust me, right? Whatever it is, it's okay.”
    Near-hysterical laughter bubbled up inside me. “Okay? It's pretty fucking far from okay.” I pulled my hands out of his and pressed them against my mouth to keep myself from continuing to laugh. All it did was muffle the sound while I fought it down.
    After a panic attack, my emotions were always very close to the surface and so much harder to control. All of the exercises my therapist had taught me were harder to access and took longer to take effect. I started to count slowly, trying to pace my breathing with the numbers.
    I ducked my head so I didn't have to see Rylan's face.
    “Jenna.” His voice was soft as he put a finger under my chin. “Look at me.”
    He raised my head and I didn't have the strength to stop him. I was suddenly exhausted.
    “You're safe with me. Whatever you're scared of, you don't have to be, not here. Not with me.” His thumb brushed across the side of my mouth and tears welled up in my eyes. “Tell me what you need me to do.”
    What I needed him to do? It was the first time I'd ever had anyone ask me that. People had told me what I needed to do for them, what I needed to do for myself, but never asked me what I needed from them. Certainly never in a kind, concerned tone, one that lacked any sort of patronizing aspect to it.
    That simple statement broke the last of my control and the tears spilled over. I tried to turn away, but he gripped my chin. Not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to know that he didn't want me to look away.
    “What can I do?” he asked.
    “Nothing,”