switch beside the door. The glare of a bare overhead bulb flooded the room. Grace blinked, shielding her eyes for an instant. Then she dropped to her knees beside the man lying on the floor. His jaw was tight, and he’d gone quiet but for his harsh breathing. She covered one of his fisted hands with her own, flinching at its rigidity.
“Sean? It’s Grace.”
He continued breathing through flared nostrils. She squeezed his fingers. Remorse clutched at her. The man had already endured one tumble. Lord only knew how much damage a second would inflict. Especially one with the force of a black-belt jujitsu throw behind it. She laid her other hand on a forearm slick with sweat and knotted with a pain she couldn’t even begin to imagine.
“Sean, can you hear me? You have to talk to me. I need to know how badly you’re hurt. Do you need an ambulance?”
Dear Lord, please don’t make me call 911. The questions she’d have to answer, the calls she’d have to make…the notice she would bring down upon them…
Sean’s entire frame shuddered with an exhale. Forearm muscles flexed beneath her fingers, then began to relax. Fists uncurled. Bottle-green eyes slitted open to glare at her.
“Holy hell, woman,” he muttered. “Where in hell did you learn a move like that?”
The normality of his response sent a rush of relief through her that culminated in a prickle behind her eyes. She blinked, her fingers tightening on his arm, his hand. Clinging to his warmth.
“You’re okay? I didn’t re-break anything?” Her gaze flicked to his cast and then back to his face again.
“I may have jarred half my hardware loose, but other than that, I’m fine.” Clenching his jaw, Sean pushed up to a sitting position. His abdominal muscles flexed with the effort, reminding Grace of his state of half undress.
“And you haven’t answered my question,” he growled, wrenching her attention back up to his face.
He’d asked a question? She flushed, and to cover her embarrassment, asked one of her own instead. “What hardware?”
He grimaced. “Pins. Rods. Enough metal to put airport security on high alert wherever I go.” He scooted across the floor on his butt until his back connected with the bed, then sent her a fresh glower. “Did it ever occur to you to knock or call out before you came barging into my house? What if I’d had the shotgun handy?”
Grace tugged her gaze from sweat-slicked muscles for a second time. She sat back on her heels. “You didn’t have the shotgun, I did,” she pointed out. “And I did call out. Twice.”
His scowl deepened. “Well, you should have called louder.”
“I thought you were sleeping.” She climbed to her feet and scowled back. “Or dead. Excuse me for wanting to check up on you.”
“So I’m supposed to thank you for this?” As soon as the words left him, Sean waved them away. “Scratch that. I didn’t mean it. Can we blame it on the pain? And maybe the ignominy of having been dumped on my ass?”
“By a woman?” she inquired tartly.
“By anyone. It just so happens I’m a cop, which means I’m supposed to do the dumping.”
“I know.”
“You know I’m a cop?” His eyes narrowed. “I don’t remember telling you.”
“I called Luc.” As soon as the words slipped out, she knew they’d been a mistake. Fresh heat crawled into her cheeks.
“You called Luc…about me?” Sean asked. “Why?”
Grace shrugged and buried her hands in her jacket pockets, opting for the simplest explanation. “Curiosity, I suppose.”
His lips twitched. “Well, I’m flattered, of course, but—”
She cut him off. “Not that kind of curiosity.”
Sean linked his hands behind his head, his chest muscles flexing under a dusting of sandy-coloredhair. Flat-out amusement danced in the green eyes now. “I see. So I should be insulted instead.”
“Of course not. I just meant I’m not—I don’t—” Floundering, Grace snapped her mouth shut and closed her eyes
“Sean? It’s Grace.”
He continued breathing through flared nostrils. She squeezed his fingers. Remorse clutched at her. The man had already endured one tumble. Lord only knew how much damage a second would inflict. Especially one with the force of a black-belt jujitsu throw behind it. She laid her other hand on a forearm slick with sweat and knotted with a pain she couldn’t even begin to imagine.
“Sean, can you hear me? You have to talk to me. I need to know how badly you’re hurt. Do you need an ambulance?”
Dear Lord, please don’t make me call 911. The questions she’d have to answer, the calls she’d have to make…the notice she would bring down upon them…
Sean’s entire frame shuddered with an exhale. Forearm muscles flexed beneath her fingers, then began to relax. Fists uncurled. Bottle-green eyes slitted open to glare at her.
“Holy hell, woman,” he muttered. “Where in hell did you learn a move like that?”
The normality of his response sent a rush of relief through her that culminated in a prickle behind her eyes. She blinked, her fingers tightening on his arm, his hand. Clinging to his warmth.
“You’re okay? I didn’t re-break anything?” Her gaze flicked to his cast and then back to his face again.
“I may have jarred half my hardware loose, but other than that, I’m fine.” Clenching his jaw, Sean pushed up to a sitting position. His abdominal muscles flexed with the effort, reminding Grace of his state of half undress.
“And you haven’t answered my question,” he growled, wrenching her attention back up to his face.
He’d asked a question? She flushed, and to cover her embarrassment, asked one of her own instead. “What hardware?”
He grimaced. “Pins. Rods. Enough metal to put airport security on high alert wherever I go.” He scooted across the floor on his butt until his back connected with the bed, then sent her a fresh glower. “Did it ever occur to you to knock or call out before you came barging into my house? What if I’d had the shotgun handy?”
Grace tugged her gaze from sweat-slicked muscles for a second time. She sat back on her heels. “You didn’t have the shotgun, I did,” she pointed out. “And I did call out. Twice.”
His scowl deepened. “Well, you should have called louder.”
“I thought you were sleeping.” She climbed to her feet and scowled back. “Or dead. Excuse me for wanting to check up on you.”
“So I’m supposed to thank you for this?” As soon as the words left him, Sean waved them away. “Scratch that. I didn’t mean it. Can we blame it on the pain? And maybe the ignominy of having been dumped on my ass?”
“By a woman?” she inquired tartly.
“By anyone. It just so happens I’m a cop, which means I’m supposed to do the dumping.”
“I know.”
“You know I’m a cop?” His eyes narrowed. “I don’t remember telling you.”
“I called Luc.” As soon as the words slipped out, she knew they’d been a mistake. Fresh heat crawled into her cheeks.
“You called Luc…about me?” Sean asked. “Why?”
Grace shrugged and buried her hands in her jacket pockets, opting for the simplest explanation. “Curiosity, I suppose.”
His lips twitched. “Well, I’m flattered, of course, but—”
She cut him off. “Not that kind of curiosity.”
Sean linked his hands behind his head, his chest muscles flexing under a dusting of sandy-coloredhair. Flat-out amusement danced in the green eyes now. “I see. So I should be insulted instead.”
“Of course not. I just meant I’m not—I don’t—” Floundering, Grace snapped her mouth shut and closed her eyes
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