IDIOT. DUMMY.I wasn’t cursing myself. I was cursing Dr. Roberts over last night’s wee disaster. If not for that formula, I could have spent the night in Rome’s arms, naked and blissful, rather than tossing and turning. Alone. Miserable. I hadn’t set anything on fire the first time Rome kissed me (okay, so my fingers had gotten a little overheated, but that didn’t count) and didn’t understand why I had this time. Unless…were my abilities getting stronger or were my feelings for Rome simply deepening?Grrr. “I hate that formula!”If not for that formula, you wouldn’t even have met Rome, remember?“That’s not the point,” I mumbled.Men, especially Rome, were off-limits until I learned to control my abilities—or I found Dr. Roberts and he fixed me. Then, and only then, could I kiss Rome like a naughty nymphomaniac. If he still wanted me, that is. After last night, he might never want to touch me again.“Stupid, idiot, dummy!”That’s what bothered me most and made me angriest with the doctor.
