Her chest heaved. She couldn’t control her breathing, which seemed louder than it should in her ringing ears.
As she set her forehead against the cool surface of the door, a throat cleared behind her, scaring the piss out of her.
She whipped around, half expecting to find the crazy man who’d hoped to claim her from the hall. Irrationally, she wondered how he’d gotten the upper hand.
She leaned against the door and stared into the darkness. She had no idea what sort of room this was, let alone who might be sharing it with her.
“Hiding from someone?” The deep male voice came from across the room. It was filled with mirth. He had no idea how accurate he was.
Suddenly leery of just about any member of the male species, she pressed herself firmly into the door. Opening it wasn’t an option. How about slipping between the cracks in the hardwood floor and vaporizing?
“Yes.” What else could she say? It was the truth. But she had no idea how well she could trust this newcomer hiding in the dark. Maybe he was in cahoots with the asshole chasing her.
He stepped out of the shadows and materialized in front of her. He was huge. Tall and well built. She swallowed the lump in her throat and flattened her palms against the door. If he meant her ill-will, she wouldn’t stand a chance.
Kathleen jumped nearly out of her skin when the man reached around her, his fingers grazing her own. A soft snick filled the silence. He’d locked the door.
Shit. Had she just jumped out of the pan and into the flames?
“There. Whoever it is, they can’t get in here now.” His voice was gentle, soothing. He was over six feet tall, but she could still smell his breath as he stood close. Minty with a hint of red wine. So very much better than Marcus the Schmuck.
He stepped back. “Relax. Want to tell me about it?” He reached for the wall next to the door and flipped a switch. The room filled with light, making her squint.
“Oops. Too bright.” He grabbed the knob next to the light and twisted until the room dimmed to a tolerable level. “Come on in.” He stepped backward with one eyebrow lifted. “Unless, you’d rather take your chances in the hall.” His smile warmed her. The shaking subsided enough for her to take a deep breath. His teasing was a relief after the last several minutes of torture.
“No. Thanks. The hall is . . . not desirable right now.” Though she had yet to assess whether or not this particular gentleman was any better. He seemed friendly. At least he hadn’t shoved her against the wall and attempted to stick his tongue down her throat. That was an improvement.
“What happened? You are out of breath and. . ." He took a giant step forward and grabbed her wrist, lifting her arm up. “What the hell happened?” he repeated. Now his voice was angry. His gaze landed on her biceps and she ducked her head to follow his line of sight.
Shit. Her bare arm sported the obvious hand print of her assailant.
The tall behemoth holding her wrist as gently as if he were a doctor ran his free hand through his thick blond hair. He lifted his gaze back to meet hers as she stared up at his face. Deep blue eyes bored into her, narrowed in concern. A wave of hair fell across his forehead. She wanted to touch it for some reason.
When she sucked in a long breath, she froze. Damn, he smelled good. Her brain scrambled as she stared without blinking. A sudden need to lean into him and let the weight of the world transfer from her to him consumed her.
Suddenly, he dropped her arm as though she’d burnt him and stumbled backward a step.
“Holy mother of. . ." His voice trailed off.
Kathleen flipped her arm over, meaning to glance down at it, but she couldn’t take her gaze off the sexy blond god currently closing his eyes and ducking his head as though in shame.
Was her arm that bad? She knew it ached from being squeezed in the hall, but surely it wasn’t so bad it would make a grown man cringe in distaste.
He turned away, wandering back into the room until he collapsed into a chair and leaned his forehead on his palms, his elbows on his knees. Did he have a sudden headache?
“Sit,” he whispered. He released one hand to point at the couch next to his chair. He didn’t glance up.
Shaking, Kathleen inched her way farther into the room. She felt compelled on some deep, unrecognizable level. Why would she follow the demands of this man who’d behaved only with the oddest of mannerisms since the moment she’d entered the room?
Gingerly, she perched on the edge of the sofa and crossed her legs. She suddenly felt underdressed. The sundress she’d purchased specifically for tonight seemed out of place, cheap, and too flimsy compared to the elegant suit-wearing man in the chair. The only thing out of place about him was his tie, which he’d loosened at the neck, the top button of his perfectly creased, starched, white dress shirt undone.