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don’t think it’s hurting nearly as much.”
    “Good. You will need an icepack.” Mikhail rummaged in the freezer and withdrew a small icepack. At her inquiring gaze, he said, “I have learned it’s good to have one on hand.”
    After attending to her ankle, he picked her up once more.
    “Mikhail!” This time she was pleased her voice didn’t sound squeaky, but she frowned in puzzlement. “What are you doing?”
    “Making sure you’re comfortable.” He carried her to the living room, which boasted cream walls, dark leather furniture and a large-screen TV, gently placing her on the three-seater leather couch. She lay lengthwise across the sofa, her back against the armrest at one end. Grabbing a cushion, he placed it behind her. “There.”
    “Thank you.” Her heart flip-flopped. She didn’t think her sparse couple of boyfriends in the past had ever been so concerned for her welfare - or for her. Not for the first time, she silently thanked those two small boys for crashing into her. If they hadn’t, she mightn’t be here right now with Mikhail, even if it did include a sprained ankle.
    “Be right back,” he promised, returning to the kitchen. A minute later, he re-appeared with two glasses of iced tea. “Or would you prefer some wine?” he arched an eyebrow in inquiry.
    She glanced at the metallic clock on the wall and shook her head. Although she felt as if she’d been out in the woods forever, it was only three-thirty.
    “This is fine.” Suddenly feeling shy, she took the glass from him, careful not to let her fingers touch his. A small trickle of condensation dripped down the side of the glass and onto her palm. Taking a sip of the cold beverage, she glanced over at him. Since she was lying on the sofa, her back propped up against one end with the soft cushion behind her, there was nowhere for him to sit, unless he took the matching armchair nearby.
    He surprised her by dragging the brown leather ottoman from near the armchair and sitting down on it in front of the sofa . After taking a long swallow of his drink, he put down the glass on a nearby walnut coffee table.
    “I’m just glad you are okay, apart from your ankle.” He smiled ruefully, taking her hand in his and rubbing his thumb across her palm.
    “Me too,” she breathed, clutching her glass. Her lower body quivered, the soft stroking of his thumb stirring her desire. “Thank you … for rescuing me.”
    “My pleasure.” Heat flared in his dark brown eyes.
    She shivered with longing, wishing that she hadn’t been so clumsy. If she hadn’t, perhaps their walk in the woods would have had a hotterending, like Mikhail taking her in his arms and kissing her passionately.
    But he had carried her all the way to the farmhouse. She’d been terrified that she would have been too heavy for him, but his stride hadn’t faltered once. And the way he was looking at her now, like he wanted to ravish her … But would he still feel the same if he saw her nude? Would he still want her then, with her generous breasts and curvy tummy and hips?
    “Amber.” His exotic Russian accent sounded more intense. He still stroked the palm of her hand, the heat of his touch scorching her nerve endings.
    She gave him a wobbly smile, unable to deny her feelings for him any longer. At least to herself. She’d fallen in love with him. He was everything she’d ever wanted in a man, and she couldn’t deny his sexy accent added even more to his attraction for her.
    “I do not think I can wait any longer.” He looked so serious, so intent.
    She swallowed. Was he going to make love to her or break up with her? But surely if he was going to break up with her, he wouldn’t look like he wanted to kiss every inch of her body. Her naked body.
    “Wait … for what?” She held her breath.
    “To make love with you, my Amber.” His voice was heavy with longing. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
    Desire pooled in her belly. He didn’t know what he did to