‘More? For what?’
‘That bedroom is going to need stripping out. I’m hoping there wasn’t anything valuable in there, but if there was, I know a good furniture restorer who’d be able to take a look at it.’
‘Is there anyone you don’t know?’ I asked, half smiling.
His wide shoulders gave a shrug.
‘Should I go and start clearing some stuff out of there, then?’ I took a step towards the stairs, but Jesse caught my wrist, the slightly calloused hand strong but gentle on my skin.
‘Wait.’ He looked down and met my eyes. ‘Please. I want to get that tree moved and check that it’s all secure first before you spend any time in there. Just to be safe.’
‘We were up there this morning.’ I frowned.
‘And I was ready to move extremely quickly if I needed to, taking you with me.’
‘Is that right?’ I asked, putting my free hand on my hip. It didn’t quite have the full effect, bearing in mind his hand still circled my other wrist, but, for some reason, I wasn’t quite ready to shake that off just yet.
‘Yep.’
‘You seem very sure I’d have obeyed you.’
A smile lifted his dark features. ‘Even from the little time I’ve spent with you, I already know you’re not a pushover so, no, I don’t necessarily think you would obey me, or anyone. But you’re little so slinging you over my shoulder in an emergency wouldn’t be an issue.’
This time, I did shake his hand off. ‘I’m not a sack of potatoes!’
‘That wasn’t what I was implying. All I meant was that, in some cases, there’s little time for niceties and, other times, I’d be more interested in getting you out of danger than following the laws of etiquette.’
‘Right. Well. Luckily, that wasn’t needed.’ I stepped away and put a little more space between us. It had been an eventful night, an eventful few weeks, and that was the only possible reason my heart was currently doing the rumba. Absolutely nothing to do with the thought of Jesse Woods wrapping his arms around me, protecting me. I gave myself a mental kick and told my heart to stop being so stupid. Those things happened in romance books and films. Not in real life. In real life, people looked after number one.
‘How are you doing?’ His deep voice wound itself around me, warm and solid, just as he’d felt last night as we got out of the damaged house, the storm howling around us.
‘I’m fine,’ I said, keeping my face away from him as I blinked away the tears that threatened to form in my eyes. Weaknesses were not to be shown. Weakness was what people looked for, what they used against you, however well you thought you knew them. It was only by being strong you survived. ‘And just for reference,’ I said, turning back towards him, my chin tilted up just enough, ‘should there have been an incident, I can run just as fast as you. I don’t need to be saved like some heroine in an old fairy tale.’
He waited a beat, the silence hanging between us before he replied with a single word.
‘Noted.’ His eyes remained on me but his expression was unreadable.
‘Good,’ I said, needing to break the moment. ‘Are these your men?’ I asked, going up on tiptoe to see a small fleet of vehicles approaching the house down the rutted driveway – yet something else that needed attention.
‘Nope.’
I glanced up.
‘But they’re here for this job.’
‘What?’ I asked, catching his arm as he turned away. It was like trying to move a glacial boulder. I scooted round in front of him and he tilted his head down as if to see what gnat was bothering him.
‘I don’t know what it’s like where you were before, but here we don’t act like we own anyone. We’ve moved on from playing lord of the manor.’
His phrasing hit a nerve and I pulled my hand back as if burned.
‘I didn’t mean it like that.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes!’ I snapped. ‘You don’t know anything about me.’
‘True. And I get the feeling you like things that way.’
