I’m almost at the pull-down staircase when a loose board splinters.
“Whoa!”
I stumble.
Scream.
My foot pitches into the sinkhole, which makes me drop the painting.
And I’m bracing for a rough landing before my brain catches up.
The impact never comes.
Strong hands grab my waist, swinging me back up before I can face-plant on the floor.
There’s a huge wall of a chest in my face instead and a cloud of pine-scented man.
When I open my eyes, I’m safe in Kane’s arms.
He’s above me, scanning my face, breathing hard.
Holy shit.
“W-what was that?” My mouth goes dry and I lick my lips. My heart hammers like mad. My fingers tremble.
I’m lucky I didn’t break a few bones. That sinkhole could’ve snarled my ankle and sent me crashing down at a nasty angle.
“Loose board death trap,” he growls. “You’re lucky I was right behind you.”
No argument there.
I nod fiercely.
“You okay? Did you hurt your ankle?” He brushes stray hairs from my face. For such a big man, he moved like lightning, and now he’s so gentle as he holds me.
He envelops me, anchoring me to him with one big arm around my waist.
I’m trembling now for a different reason as adrenaline whips through my body.
“I’ll survive. Jesus, that was close,” I whisper with a shaky laugh. “I’m fine, just—how did you get here so fast?”
“I used to play hockey when I was younger.” His voice scrapes my spine like sandpaper, rough but reassuring.
My heart won’t slow down, even though the shock of my near-death experience has faded.
“Hockey? That explains a lot.”
He snorts. “Nothing special. It’s all muscle memory now.”
“Sweet. That must come in handy with saving clumsy women all the time.”
“No. Just you, duchess.” He gazes down at me with a hardness in his green eyes and, behind that, so much heat I shiver.
I could take that statement in so many awful directions, jokes and innuendo with devastating consequences.
But I don’t dare.
He hasn’t moved his hand from my waist. His free hand lingers in my hair, his thick fingers moving idly, gently tucking a loose strand behind my ear.
