The tears I'd been holding back finally broke free. This was the third time. The third time he had appeared to save me. Emotions I'd suppressed for so long were finally unleashed, and the secret joy and the thrill of being rescued made my heart hammer against my ribs.
I hitched up my long dress and ran to him, grasping his large, calloused hand. With one effortless pull, he hauled me up. Wearing a form-fitting gown, I had to sit sideways in his lap. Listening to the man's powerful heartbeat, I instinctively wrapped my arms around his lean waist. He stiffened the moment I touched him.
"Put your hands down," he said quietly.
It was like a bucket of cold water. Embarrassment crashed back over me. Did he dislike being touched like this? In his eyes... was I someone cheap and frivolous?
I q
