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She stared up at me, still somewhat dazed from the smoke inhalation, but more confused by my tone. Hell, even I was confused. Where was all of this coming from?
She shook her head. “I don’t—”
“You put everyone’s life at risk by running back into that building,” I explained. “Including your own.”
The woman tilted her chin upward, exposing the slender line of her throat. I tried not to notice how pretty she was, or how the self-assured stance she now took made me imagine things that were even more out of line than my scolding. “I had my reasons.”
I reached down between us and held the trinket box out to her. “This? Is this worth your life?”
She snatched it from my hand, quickly clutching it to her chest as if it were her only tether to this world. The slight pout of her lips distracted me.
Damn it! This woman was trouble. “It’s worth it to me.”
A pause of silence lingered between us. The box looked as though it cost a small fortune. I could see how she might think to protect it. Losing something that valuable would be a loss, especially when faced with the damage to her house.
I’d seen it a hundred times. Spoiled, wealthy citizens concerned with the financial loss of their home would grasp at any item of value they could think of in a time of panic. Judging by the size of her estate, I imagined she fit that bill quite nicely.
“I am sorry that I put you and the others at risk though,” she added softly. Her straight blonde hair fell down around her face, shielding her features from view as she peered down at the music box in her palms.
Maybe she wasn’t a spoiled socialite who cared for her material possessions. But she was still trouble.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing.” She lifted her head. “A silly trinket, like you said.”
Sarcasm littered each word. She had closed herself off, escaping the rush of emotions taking hold of her. I couldn’t blame her. She’d nearly lost her entire house. It would likely cost a small fortune to repair it.
And here I was, scolding her as if she were a child throwing a tantrum.
A soft trail of tears lined her eyelids, cresting just past the surface. One broke free, falling down her cheek and blazing through the dark smudges of ash and soot lining her skin. Instinctively, I reached out to wipe it away. A pulse of electricity shivered through me, soft and subtle, yet awakening.
She faced me and I had to remind myself to breathe.
Her soft lips parted in questioning, wanting to speak, wanting to ask for help even. But no words spilled forth. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat.
In that moment, she seemed so broken, so vulnerable; I didn’t know how to respond. I felt almost guilty for accusing her of being one of those pampered, young girls with no other direction in life but to max out their father’s credit cards. Clearly, there was more going on. Something she wouldn’t discuss with a random stranger, no matter if I did just save her life or not.
I sighed. “Look, I shouldn’t have been so hard on you.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.” Her soft eyes leveled over me, a dark, cobalt blue in the midnight sky.
“I’m trying to apologize.”
“Well, save it,” she said. “I don’t need your apology, and I don’t need your sympathy.”
Damn. The woman was stone cold. All because I’d scolded her? I got the impression people didn’t normally talk to her that way. A fit, sculpted Amazon like her surely garnered her fair share of attention. Men probably threw themselves at her feet, while she likely enjoyed every last minute of it.
Well, I would not be one of them. I’d chased around enough hard-headed blondes in my lifetime to know it was the last thing I wanted to do again. I wasn’t about to add another one to the list, no matter how soft her lips looked or how perfect each curve of her body fell into place.
“Hunter, we found the cause of the fire.” Gerald approached us, drawing me away from my thoughts of the woman’s body. I was heading into dangerous territory. The sooner we washed our hands of this mess, the better.
Gerald toted a small ball of something in his hands. He held it out to me, and I claimed it, twirling it between my fingers twice before realizing what it was.
“A candle?” I asked.
“What’s left of it,” Gerald said. “It was pressed up against a curtain in that room up there.”
“A candle?” The woman shook her head. “I never lit a candle. I never even went up into that room.”
