cup in its china saucer and Lara's stifled cry of pain instantly had both men's attention. She was gripping her wrist, the fingers of her injured hand spread. Her skin was already turning a fiery red from the scalding liquid.
"What happened?" her father said dimly.
Rans was already on his feet, the emptied cup shoved on the desk. "She's burned her hand with the coffee?" An inner instinct had backed Lara away from him, but she was too numbed by the pain to increase the distance when Rans moved toward her. "We'd better get some cold water on it right away."
His hand was under her elbow, guiding her from the room, taking charge of the situation before Lara could protest. "It's n-not serious." Her teeth were slightly clenched from the pain. "I can take care of it myself. Really."
But he was already opening the door to the bathroom on the ground floor and escorting her inside. The cold-water faucet in the sink was turned on and her injured hand unceremoniously thrust into the water.
"Is there any salve around to put on it?" Rans inquired briskly.
He was standing so close beside her that Lara could feel the heat of his body. Disturbed by his nearness, she moved to the side of the sink, keeping her head down and her gaze on her hand beneath the running water.
"There should be some in the medicine cabinet behind the sink mirror. On the second shelf, I think." She swallowed, her heart beating like a thousand snare drums. She tried once more to reject his aid. "There's, no need for you to stay. I can take care of it."
Her statement was ignored as he opened the mirrored door above the sink. He found the tube of salve immediately, removing it from the shelf and closing the door. Lara could feel his gaze studying her and hoped her profile didn't reveal the tension that strained her poise.
"Does it feel better?" he asked after another minute had passed with cooling water running over her hand.
"Yes, it…it doesn't burn anymore." The brief shake of her head was designed to flip the hair away from her face, a self-conscious movement since her red gold hair was securely pinned in an impeccable coil.
Rans turned off the faucet and reached for the towel hanging in the ringed rack. He ignored her outstretched hand to take it from him and gently wrapped the soft towel around her other hand. Carefully he pressed the towel against injured skin to absorb the moisture.
With his attention diverted to her hand, Lara allowed herself to glance at his face. The strong lines were so aggressively masculine, sun browned and rugged. Thick and spiky lashes, not femininely long and curling like Trevor's, veiled the brown of his piercing eyes, a velvet shade to conceal the steel of his gaze. There was a hardness, to his mouth, faintly cynical and faintly ruthless. She remembered its mastery when it had taken intimate possession of hers.
The memory stirred the physical longings within her, and Lara hastily glanced away from his mouth. Instead she concentrated on the drying motion of his hands. They were large and powerful like their owner, yet capable of gentleness as well as bruising force. Her breasts tingled with the memory of the erotic caress of those hands. Lara breathed in sharply at how vividly she recalled the sensation.
Instantly his gaze narrowed on her face. "Does it still bother you?"
For a startled second, she thought he had read her mind, blushing self-consciously when she realized he was referring to the burn on her hand.
"No, it hardly hurts at all." Which was not exactly true since her hand was still uncomfortably tender. "I was thinking about something else."
His mouth quirked with amusement as Rans darted her a glittering look. "Something else that makes you gasp with pain?" he mocked, unwrapping the towel from her hand.
Lara hesitated, unwilling to answer what amounted to a leading question. "I didn't gasp." She reached for the tube of salve. "I'll put it on."
"I'll do it. It'll be faster," Rans rejected her offer, then
"What happened?" her father said dimly.
Rans was already on his feet, the emptied cup shoved on the desk. "She's burned her hand with the coffee?" An inner instinct had backed Lara away from him, but she was too numbed by the pain to increase the distance when Rans moved toward her. "We'd better get some cold water on it right away."
His hand was under her elbow, guiding her from the room, taking charge of the situation before Lara could protest. "It's n-not serious." Her teeth were slightly clenched from the pain. "I can take care of it myself. Really."
But he was already opening the door to the bathroom on the ground floor and escorting her inside. The cold-water faucet in the sink was turned on and her injured hand unceremoniously thrust into the water.
"Is there any salve around to put on it?" Rans inquired briskly.
He was standing so close beside her that Lara could feel the heat of his body. Disturbed by his nearness, she moved to the side of the sink, keeping her head down and her gaze on her hand beneath the running water.
"There should be some in the medicine cabinet behind the sink mirror. On the second shelf, I think." She swallowed, her heart beating like a thousand snare drums. She tried once more to reject his aid. "There's, no need for you to stay. I can take care of it."
Her statement was ignored as he opened the mirrored door above the sink. He found the tube of salve immediately, removing it from the shelf and closing the door. Lara could feel his gaze studying her and hoped her profile didn't reveal the tension that strained her poise.
"Does it feel better?" he asked after another minute had passed with cooling water running over her hand.
"Yes, it…it doesn't burn anymore." The brief shake of her head was designed to flip the hair away from her face, a self-conscious movement since her red gold hair was securely pinned in an impeccable coil.
Rans turned off the faucet and reached for the towel hanging in the ringed rack. He ignored her outstretched hand to take it from him and gently wrapped the soft towel around her other hand. Carefully he pressed the towel against injured skin to absorb the moisture.
With his attention diverted to her hand, Lara allowed herself to glance at his face. The strong lines were so aggressively masculine, sun browned and rugged. Thick and spiky lashes, not femininely long and curling like Trevor's, veiled the brown of his piercing eyes, a velvet shade to conceal the steel of his gaze. There was a hardness, to his mouth, faintly cynical and faintly ruthless. She remembered its mastery when it had taken intimate possession of hers.
The memory stirred the physical longings within her, and Lara hastily glanced away from his mouth. Instead she concentrated on the drying motion of his hands. They were large and powerful like their owner, yet capable of gentleness as well as bruising force. Her breasts tingled with the memory of the erotic caress of those hands. Lara breathed in sharply at how vividly she recalled the sensation.
Instantly his gaze narrowed on her face. "Does it still bother you?"
For a startled second, she thought he had read her mind, blushing self-consciously when she realized he was referring to the burn on her hand.
"No, it hardly hurts at all." Which was not exactly true since her hand was still uncomfortably tender. "I was thinking about something else."
His mouth quirked with amusement as Rans darted her a glittering look. "Something else that makes you gasp with pain?" he mocked, unwrapping the towel from her hand.
Lara hesitated, unwilling to answer what amounted to a leading question. "I didn't gasp." She reached for the tube of salve. "I'll put it on."
"I'll do it. It'll be faster," Rans rejected her offer, then
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