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hand, it seemed so effortless to him. And he didn’t move back to the doorway as would have been proper. They were alone, after all, completely alone,
in a bloody bedroom no less,
which went beyond improper, was in the realm of compromising. So she dove into the next trunk as soon as it was cleared, the sooner toget him out of there, and thankfully came up with the narrow, wooden jewel box this time.
    “There are only these few pieces that were my mother’s, and her mother’s before her,” she said as she thrust the box at him. “They are valuable, but the value is more sentimental to me than anything—”
    She gasped instead of finishing. He had placed his hand over hers on the box to take it from her, probably because he hadn’t taken his eyes off of her long enough to glance down at what he was reaching for. It was a shock to her, staring into his eyes as his warm palm slid over the top of hers, slowly, too slowly, before he finally took the box from her. She was totally undone again, blood racing so fast she really did think she would faint this time.
    That touch they had just shared, which had completely shattered her composure, meant absolutely nothing to him. He glanced down as he flipped open the box to look inside at the long strand of pearls and the pearl and ruby butterfly pin therein.
    “I understand,” he said tonelessly before looking up at her again with gold eyes that seemed even hotter, though it was probably just the light again that made them seem so. “And these?”
    Before she realized what he was referring to, or going to do, he flicked one of the earrings she was wearing withhis finger. His other fingers brushed against her neck as he did so, an accident surely, yet she felt the shiver clear down to her toes. She swayed as her knees started to buckle. She forgot how to breathe. In a desperate effort to regain control of her senses, she closed her eyes—and heard a groan. His? Surely not.
    She focused on the subject, or what she thought was the subject. It took several long moments to dredge it up. The slamming of the lid on the jewel box helped, startled her enough to open her eyes again too.
    “The earrings are always with me, either worn or resting beside my bed when I sleep.”
    “I’m not taking any chances where you are concerned. Give them to me.”
    It was a harsh order or seemed to be, since his voice had gone quite raspy. Did he mean the earrings? She wasn’t sure. She couldn’t think clearly again. But just in case, she yanked them off and thrust them at him, then nervously let them drop before his hand actually got close enough, too afraid that she might end up touching him again. It was too soon, though, and he wasn’t quite quick enough to catch them before they fell to the floor.
    Embarrassed that her nervousness was so very obvious, she thoughtlessly dropped to one knee to pick the earrings up, overlooking the fact that he might do the same. They butted heads on the way down. She lost her balance,ended up sitting on the floor. And before she could recover on her own, he was helping her up.
    This was truly her undoing. She was rendered speechless by the shock of it. Instead of offering his hand, which she most certainly wouldn’t have taken—he must have known that—he lifted her up, grasping her beneath her armpits, as one would a very small child. It should have been impossible, at least from the floor. But he used his own chest for leverage. And in those brief seconds she felt his palms near the sides of her breasts, felt those breasts pressed firmly to his chest before he let her go. Mere seconds. Yet the impressions would last her an eternity.
    The pearls hadn’t been picked up yet. He did that now, as well as retrieving the jewel box he’d set down while assisting her. The earrings he closed tightly in his fist rather than put them in the box. For once, he seemed as agitated as she, but it was only a brief display, gone so swiftly, she figured she must have