her part would free her until he was ready to let her go.
All the same, it was hard to remain still under his searching appraisal. She was acutely aware that he was breathing heavily now and she guessed her sudden dash for the door had caught him unawares. She doubted he appreciated having to reason with her, either, and his expression mirrored the ambivalence he felt.
Even so, when he spoke it was an apology. ‘I shouldn’t have said that,’ he said, his nostrils flaring with the effort to control the anger that was riding him. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Are you?’
Her answer was hardly original, but in the circumstances it was impossible to think of anything unique. Her treacherous senses were registering other things, like his heat and his nearness, and the predatory magnetism that exuded from his pores.
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