This is the only way I can make sure she’s safe. And she has to be safe. My feet are quieter than a whisper as they trudge along the asphalt. She doesn’t look at me until we’re nearly toe-to-toe, because she walks her with her beautiful head tipped down. That’s something I’m going to change. I grab her quickly, so fast that she doesn’t even have the chance to make a sound. I’ve got her cuffed and gagged in just moments and in the back seat of my SUV just as quick.

Running away from home at 17 wasn't easy. Let's face it, though, nothing before or in the ten years since has ever been easy for me. And I'm doing okay—sorta. I just need to keep scraping by, living under the radar. Staying out of people's way, off people's minds. When a man walks through my open patio door, stepping boldly into my home and my life, I should be scared, frightened, terrified. I must be more broken than I realized because I'm none of those things. I'm intrigued—and I'm wondering if the way to take control of my life is by giving in to him.

My name is Rachel Price, and two months ago, I walked away from the perfect man. Sweet and funny, and so hot it should be illegal—we shared one magical night. No names. No strings. I never thought I'd see him again. I was wrong. It turns out Mr. Perfect is the playboy grinder for the Jacksonville Rays, the NHL's hottest new hockey team . . . and I'm his new physical therapist. Oh, and the jerk doesn't even recognize me!

The man upstairs in apartment six doesn't belong here, in our rundown block on the slum side of the city. High-class and educated, suited and booted, and at least thirty years my senior. Yes. Thirty whole years. But that doesn't matter. He's absolutely gorgeous. What does matter is they say he's a disgraced teacher who preys on his college students. A filthy, sick man who deserves prison.

The night of my birthday looked as boring as the rest of my life. Sitting on my own, trying to avoid my insanely gorgeous but horribly mean flatmate, all while waiting for him to leave so I could have a party for one…if you know what I mean. But that was before I almost crashed on the way home, when a big top rolled into town. Before I locked eyes with the hottest guy I’d ever seen swinging a sledgehammer in the rain. Before I read the flyer promoting the once-in-a-lifetime circus. A circus that wasn’t the usual garish carnival…oh, no…this one was most definitely not for children.