Falling for Mr Dark & Dangerous. Donna Alward

coughed in the den and Maggie looked away as the moment ended. Nate caught his breath as the color bloomed in her cheeks. He hadn’t imagined it, then.

      “Excuse me, I should clean this up.” Her voice was overbright as she scrambled up from the table, knocking over her empty mug.

      It crashed to the floor, breaking into three distinct pieces.

      “Oh, how clumsy of me!” Without looking at him, she knelt to the floor to pick up the pieces. Nate watched, amused. It had been a long time since he’d met a woman who intrigued him, and even longer since he’d had the power to fluster one the way Maggie seemed to be right now.

      “Let me help you,” he suggested, pushing out of his chair and squatting down beside her.

      “Ow!”

      Maggie sat back, one of the pieces of pottery in her left hand and a small shard sticking out of a finger on the opposite hand. A drop of blood formed around the tip.

      “Maggie, take a breath.” Nate took her hand gently in his. “Are you sure coffee was a good idea?” He chuckled as he concentrated on her finger, pinching the fragment between his thumb and forefinger. “Perhaps decaf next time, hmmm?”

      He pulled out the shard, but it had gone deeper than he expected and the drop of blood turned into a substantial streak.

      “Do you have a first-aid kit?”

      Her voice was subdued. “Of course I do. Under the sink in the bathroom.”

      He rose and headed for the stairs.

      “The one over there. In my living quarters.”

      He stopped and looked at the closed door leading off the kitchen. She had wrapped a napkin around the finger and stood up, taking the larger pieces of the mug and placing them gently on the table.

      “I’ll get it,” she said.

      “No, you sit tight. I will.”

      Nate changed direction and went through the door, feeling somehow like he was trespassing. This was crazy. Less than six hours here and he was flirting with the owner and wandering around her private living space. He went into the bathroom, surprised by the scent of cinnamon and apples coming from a scented oil dispenser plugged into the wall. Switching on a light, he was bathed in an intimate glow—no blaring bulbs here. Soothing blue and deep red splashes of color accented the ivory decor. Nate felt very much like he was intruding.

      He searched the small vanity cupboard until he found a white box with a red cross on the top. He shut off the light and went back to the kitchen, where he found Maggie at the sink, the napkin off her finger as she ran it beneath cold water. She lifted it out of the stream and looked at it closely in the soft light from above the sink.

      “I think all of it came out,” she explained. “What a klutz I am.”

      “Not at all.” Nate sat the kit down on the counter and flipped open the lid. “It’s not deep, so you just need a small bandage.”

      “I can get it, truly.”

      “You’re right handed, aren’t you? Putting it on lefty would be awkward. I’ve got two capable hands.”

      Maggie looked down at his fingers holding the bandage. Capable indeed. His hands were wide, with long tapering fingers. She swallowed, but held out her finger anyway.

      The sound of the paper wrapper tearing off the bandage echoed through the kitchen. Nate stepped closer, anchoring one sticky end and then holding her hand before wrapping the rest around and sticking it to itself. Her heart pounded painfully; she was sure he could hear it as he applied the small wrap.

      “All better,” he said softly.

      “Thank you,” she whispered.

      He started to pull his hand away, but for a long moment his fingertips stayed on hers. She lifted her eyes to his and found him watching her steadily. Oxygen seemed scarce as she fell entranced by his intense eyes, the shape of his lips. Lips that leaned in ever so slightly.

      “You’re welcome.” And he lifted her finger to his lips and kissed the tip.