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Santiago dropped his head and fit his mouth to hers. Her lips were warm and soft, absolutely perfect. As soon as they connected, he felt something click into place inside his chest as every cell in his body seemed to sigh with relief.
Yes. This is right. This is what I need.
It was a sensation more than an actual thought, a sense that this woman was his match in every way. His world shifted, as though things that had once been a little off-kilter were now in perfect alignment. It was a powerful feeling, a rush that left him a little light-headed.
Ainsley pressed herself against him, the added contact sending tendrils of warmth throughout his body. Santiago ran his tongue along her bottom lip, coaxing her mouth open.
He’d barely registered the taste of her coffee when the window behind them shattered.
Chapter 7
Everything seemed to happen in a blur.
One minute, Ainsley was sinking into Santiago’s kiss, relishing the feel of her curves pressed against his chest. The next thing she knew, there was a crash from somewhere behind her. Before she could fully register the sound, Santiago’s arms came around her in a tight embrace and he pulled her to the floor. The back of her head made contact with the tile floor, and she cried out as pain pierced her skull.
“Are you
okay?” Santiago’s breath was warm on her cheek; she blinked, slowly registering he was on top of her.
“Uh, yeah, I think so. What happened?” Her head was still spinning from the sudden change in position, and the throbbing of her skull made it difficult to organize her thoughts.
“The window.” He shifted, his eyes looking past her as he searched for something. “It shattered behind you.”
A jolt of alarm shot down her spine. “Were you hurt?” She hadn’t felt anything, but she’d been so caught up in the moment it might not have registered. She took a mental inventory now, trying to determine if she’d been cut or injured by flying glass.
Santiago was quiet for a few seconds, apparently performing his own silent survey. “No, I think I’m fine.”
He planted his knees on either side of her thighs, taking some of his weight off her. They waited a few more seconds, but the cabin was silent.
“Do you think we’re safe?” She felt a little silly whispering, but windows didn’t break themselves. Something had caused the glass to explode.
Or someone.
The image of Steve flashed through her mind as she recalled the dark glare he given her before walking away with Jenny. He hadn’t threatened her outright, but he’d made it clear he didn’t want her speaking to his wife.
Had he decided to underline his warning with a little vandalism?
“I’ll take a look,” Santiago said. “Stay down until I know it’s okay.”
Ainsley opened her mouth to protest, but Santiago looked down and met her eyes. “Just stay down,” he repeated, anticipating her objection.
He waited for her to nod before sliding off her. She registered the loss of his body heat immediately, but pushed the inconvenient observation aside. Now was not the time to think about the implications of that kiss, or the direction they’d been heading before the surprise interruption...
Wanting to keep him in sight, Ainsley rolled onto her stomach and craned her neck. Santiago moved cautiously toward the window at the other end of the room, his head swiveling from side to side as he searched for any signs of an intruder or a threat. She held her breath, willing him to remain safe. The chances that someone was out there waiting to take a shot were slim, but she couldn’t get Steve’s menacing expression out of her mind. Even though he was upset with her, he might lash out and hurt Santiago by mistake. If Santiago was injured because of her actions...she’d never forgive herself.
After an endless moment, Santiago called out. “I don’t see anyone.” The glass crunched under his shoes as he walked back to her and reached down to help her up. “I think we’re safe.”
“What happened?” Ainsley kept her hands on Santiago’s arms, unwilling to let go just yet. Her stomach still roiled from adrenaline and she felt a little shaky. He was solid and strong, and his closeness provided a reassurance that transcended words.
Santiago seemed to understand her need for touch, as he drew her close. “I’m not 100 percent sure,” he said, looking at the scene at the other end of the room. “As best I can tell, it seems like a tree branch crashed through the window.”
“So it wasn’t a person trying to hurt us?” That was a relief.
“Doesn’t look like it, no,” he said.
Together, they walked over to the mess on the floor. Ainsley could see he was right—a large branch was hanging half-out of the room, and both the small table and floor were littered with shards of glass and a few pieces of bark and leaves. From this angle, she could see the jagged end of the branch, which looked like it had been ripped off the tree. She reflexively glanced up, but it was impossible to tell which tree the branch had come from.
“That’s quite a mess,” she said.
