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Harry leaned down, his face practically touching hers. “Good girl.”
They were so close, Cate could have kissed him easily. Not that she wanted to. Of course, she didn’t. This was cross, bossy, arrogant Harry. Not Jason.
She offered him her fingers. He reached down and gripped her forearm in two big hands.
“Don’tyoufall out of the window,” she cried, suddenly panicked.
“I’ve got my feet braced. Nobody is going to fall. But you’ve got to let go of the trellis completely.”
“I can’t,” she whispered.
At this point, she probably had splinters in her palm. The fingers of her right hand were permanently curled. Even with Harry holding one of her arms, she was scared, so scared. It was a heck of a long way to the ground.
When he spoke, his breath brushed her ear. “Take your right arm and curl it behind my neck. I’ll do the rest.”
Letting go of her grandmother’s trellis was the second hardest thing Cate had faced in the last seven days. Slowly, she told her right hand to relax and release. For a split second, she wobbled in midair. Then, with all her might, she flung her arm skyward and wrapped it around Harry’s warm, solid neck.
Now only her feet were on the trellis.
Harry grunted as he started to drag her inside.
It wasn’t comfortable for either of them.
The deadweight pull must have been agony on his back. Cate wasn’t exactly having a good time either as her belly scraped over the windowsill and both knees knocked against the side of the house.
After what seemed like forever, but must have been only minutes, Harry fell backward, taking Cate with him. They landed in a heap, battered and bruised, and—in Cate’s case—bleeding.
Harry’s chest rose and fell with his labored breathing. He put his hands on her cheeks. The hall light was on, so she could see every expression in his silvery steel eyes.
“Don’t you ever,” he said, struggling to breathe. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”
“Duly noted.”
She was plastered against his body in a very inappropriate fashion. But she was so exhausted and sore, she couldn’t find the energy to move.
Harry didn’t seem in a hurry either.
His face was flushed, but that was probably from exertion.
“Do you enjoy rescuing people?” she asked.
His classically sculpted, masculine lips twitched. “Not particularly. But for you I seem to make an exception.”
And then something bizarre and stunning and inexplicable happened.Anotherpart of Harry’s body twitched. And grew.
Cate froze, mortified. Nothing personal, right? It was a mechanical response. Something that happened to guys.
She swallowed hard. “I should get up, I think.”
Every trace of humor fled Harry’s face. Those pewter eyes were blank, though a muscle in his jaw moved. “Probably.”
“No problem.” She gave the blithe assurance, totally ignoring the state of her aching body. Carefully, she moved onto her hands and knees and scooted backward.
When she was standing, Harry looked up at her and cursed. “What the hell happened to you?” He rolled to his feet and took both of her hands in his, extending her arms.
“Grammy’s roses challenged me to a duel. I lost.” Now that Cate was safely inside the house, all her various cuts began to sting and burn.
“I’d say so. Come to the bathroom,” he said. “We’ve got to get you cleaned up. Those could get infected.”
