her hands away.
Tamsin bit the inside of her cheek and looked away from his knowing gaze, her emotions too raw for comfort.
He stood still. She felt his stare, tangible as a trailing touch, move across her face to her throat then back up again. Her breathing shallowed.
She told herself she was used to being a curiosity, out of step with her peers. Stubbornly she ignored the hurt lancing her chest.
An instant later he clattered back down the ladder and she let out her breath in a sigh.
Time to climb down and face the music. She unfolded the leg tucked beneath her. Pins and needles prickled, proof she’d sat here longer than she’d realised. Gingerly she wriggled, pulling the bunched hem of her skirt down where it had rucked up. Grasping the ladder she rose, ready to turn.
His appearance before her prevented her moving.
‘I need space to turn around.’ Her voice was betrayingly uneven.
Instead of descending, he rose, his hands grasping the top of the ladder so his broad shoulders and powerful arms surrounded her.
Something fluttered in Tamsin’s chest at the sensation of being caught within his embrace, though he didn’t touch her. The force field of his presence engulfed her. It made her feel small and vulnerable and edgy.
Her breath hissed in.
His head was at breast height now. She leaned back towards the shelving, trying to put space between them.
‘Whoa. Easy now.’ His deep voice lowered to a soothing pitch, as if steadying a fractious animal.
‘I can climb down alone.’ Her words were sharper than she’d intended, betraying her embarrassment at the storm of inexplicable reactions bombarding her.
‘Of course you can.’ His lips pursed ruminatively, drawing her eyes. Heat washed her neck and cheeks as she stared. In a less rugged face that perfect mouth would look almost feminine. But on him those lips simply looked sensuous and dangerously inviting.
Like the deeply hooded eyes that steadily surveyed her.
Tamsin swallowed and felt her blush burn hotter. Could he read her thoughts? He must be accustomed to women gaping. The realisation didn’t ease her embarrassment.
‘But accidents happen and I wouldn’t want you losing your footing.’
‘I won’t lose my footing,’ she said in a horribly breathless voice.
He shrugged those wide, straight shoulders, mesmerising her with the movement. ‘We hope not. But we won’t take chances. Think of the insurance claim if you’re injured.’
‘I wouldn’t—’
‘Of course you wouldn’t.’ He rose further and she backed so her shoulders touched the bookshelf and there was nowhere else to go. ‘But your permanent employer might sue for damages if you’re injured due to our negligence.’
‘It’s not your negligence. I climbed up here.’
He shook his head. ‘Anyone with an ounce of understanding would realise what temptation this ladder is to a woman who loves books. It’s asking for trouble.’
Something flickered in his eyes. She was sure he was laughing but his sympathetic expression couldn’t be faulted. ‘It was irresponsible to leave it here, just begging to be climbed.’
He conveniently ignored the fact that the ladder was fixed top and bottom to the rails placed around the walls.
‘You’re talking nonsense.’
His eyebrows arched and a flash of something that might have been approval lit his eyes.
‘Very probably,’ he murmured. ‘The tension must be getting to me. Heights can affect people like that, you know.’ His lips curved up in another one of those half-smiles that melted something vital inside her. ‘Take pity on my nerves and let me get you down from here.’
Tamsin opened her mouth to end his games. She refused to be the butt of his jokes. But before she could speak large hands pulled her towards him, warming her through several layers of clothing and jamming the words in her throat. For a moment panic threatened as she plunged forward, but an instant later she was draped over one solid shoulder. He clamped her close with his arm and then he was moving, descending the ladder with her firmly in his hold.
‘Put me down! Let me go, right now!’ She couldn’t believe he’d grabbed her.
‘Of course. In just a moment.’
To her horror Tamsin felt his deep voice rumble through his torso and hers.
Tamsin shut her eyes rather than look at the distant floor, or, more disturbingly, the intriguing sight of muscles bunching in the taut backside inches from her face.
But closing her eyes heightened other senses. She felt him against the length of her body, his strength undeniably exciting as ripples of movement teased her breasts and thighs. Disturbing warmth swirled languidly in the pit of her stomach.
She shouldn’t be enjoying this. She should be outraged. Or at least impervious. She should…
‘There.’ He lowered her into a chair and stepped back. ‘Safe and sound.’
His eyes weren’t laughing now. They were sober as he stared down at her. His mouth was a firm line, his brows tipped into a slight frown as if the joke had turned sour. His jaw clamped hard and she had the fleeting impression he was annoyed rather than amused.
Tamsin wanted desperately to conjure a witty quip. To redeem herself as clever and insouciant, taking the situation in her stride.
Instead she gazed helplessly, enmeshed in a web of unfamiliar reactions. Her breasts tingled from contact with him, her nipples puckering shamelessly. Her thighs were warm from his touch. Her gaze caught on his black hair, now slightly rumpled. Heat sizzled inside like a firecracker about to explode.
It wasn’t the sexy cavalry uniform that made him look so good, despite the gilt braiding that moulded his tapering torso, the cut of clothes that made him look every inch the fairy tale hero. What unnerved her was the flesh and blood man whose shadowed eyes glowed like an invitation to sin.
She tried to tell herself he was vain enough to have a uniform designed to enhance the incredible colour of his eyes. But the gravity of his expression when he wasn’t smiling told her he didn’t give a toss for his looks.
Tamsin’s breath sawed as he dropped to one knee and took her bare foot in his hand. Tremors rippled up her leg and she felt again that strange molten sensation pooling low in her belly.
She squirmed but he didn’t release her. Instead he fished something out of his pocket and slid it onto her foot. Soft, worn familiar leather. Her discarded shoe.
‘So, Cinderella. Why did you want to see me?’
Tamsin’s pulse faltered. For the last ten minutes she’d pretended he was a guest, even a member of staff. Yet deep inside she’d known who he was.
