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she immediately went down on her knees desperately trying to clean up the mess as soon as possible.
    “For God’s sake. What the hell is wrong with you?” the senior Mr. Blake bit out.
    Emma cringed and then felt a sharp pain shooting through her palm straight up her arm. She looked down at her hand which was now bleeding profusely from a big open wound where she had managed to cut herself with a piece of broken glass.
    “Are you okay?” Nicholas crouched down beside her, looking at her palm.
    “Of course she’s fine, Nicholas,” Mr. Blake said behind him, “If she wasn’t such a klutz, she wouldn’t have a sliced palm leaving blood stains all over my very expensive floor.”
    “Dad,” Nicholas snapped, “could you stop being an asshole for one goddamn minute?” Nicholas turned his attention back to Emma, and softly took her injured hand in his. Emma sucked in a breath, his warm touch causing tingles to spread throughout her entire body. “That’s quite a cut you have there.” And then he looked up at her.
    They were blue. His eyes were a brilliant, dark, intense blue…and they were beautiful.
    “Are you okay?” He narrowed his eyes.
    “Yes,” she blurted out, trying to shake the fog in her brain. “Yes, I’m fine. It’s just the sight of blood.”
    “Don’t worry. It’s not too deep. We can fix it.” And then he winked one of those blue sapphires at her, and her heart skipped a beat.
    Emma was too stunned to say or do anything. All she was able to do was let Nicholas lead her to the nearest bathroom.
    “You’re new here?” he asked when he opened the bathroom cabinet and took out a small first-aid kit. Emma couldn’t take her eyes off him as he moved.
    Only after a few seconds and a worried glance from Nicholas did Emma manage to find her voice. “Yes. I started today.”
    Emma didn’t even notice what Nicholas was doing. All she saw was how his incredibly toned back muscles flexed, and how his broad shoulders moved as he did whatever the hell he was doing.
    “What’s your name?” Nicholas turned around and her gaze immediately shot to his rock-hard, washboard abs which seemed like they were made for the sole purpose of being touched, caressed, kissed, licked. Oh good grief.
    “Um…Emma,” she answered. And then she locked eyes with his brilliant blues. To say that his eyes were blue would have been like saying the moon was white—sufficient, but not enough to describe its true splendor.
    Nicholas gave a small step toward her, and she swallowed hard. “Well it’s nice to meet you, Emma. I’m Nicholas, the son of the asshole you just met.”
    Emma snorted, but immediately placed her unwounded palm over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
    “No, it’s okay. It’s the truth. No one knows what a jerk my father can be better than me. Give me your hand.” He held out his palm and Emma hesitated, thinking of how she cuffed that same hand only two nights ago.
    “I won’t bite, Emma,” he assured her after he noticed her hesitation.
    “I know that,” she said, feeling a little embarrassed. She placed her hand in his. Why did that simple touch cause her heart to beat faster?
    Nicholas turned his attention to her wound and dabbed some cotton on the bleeding cut. Emma flinched.
    “Sorry.” He pulled his alluring lips into a straight line. “Clean alcohol kind of has a nasty sting, doesn’t it?”
    “It’s okay. I can handle it.”
    No longer was she looking at what Nicholas was doing, but she was staring at his face. With chiseled features, a strong well-defined jawline and blue eyes framed with thick dark eyelashes, she couldn’t stop looking at him. He was perfect.
    “Your voice sounds really familiar. Have we met before?” Nicholas quickly glanced up and met her eyes, before turning his attention back to nursing her wound.
    “No, we haven’t met.” Now she tried to sound, well, different, but to no avail.
    “Your voice really has a familiar ring to