would want Sophie to have some things to remember her by.
Shifting the assortment of sneakers, boots, and flip-flops aside, Sophie pulled the binders from the closet. Sheâd just walked into the main room and set the thick folders on the dining table when keys jingled against the apartment door.
Startled, she cautiously moved toward the couch, where sheâd put her purse, which contained pepper spray. Her eyes remained fixed on the knob, which sheâd locked, but now it jiggled as an unknown tried to get in.
Did someone know this apartment sat empty and was coming to steal? More than likely sheâd just watched too many criminal shows and it was just the landlord or maintenance . . . she had heard keys clanging, after all.
The door opened and the second Sophie saw a thick forearm leading to a wide shoulder, she dove for her purse. Unfortunately, she tripped when her hip gave out on her, and she fell to the floor behind the couch.
âWhat the hell?â
The familiar male voice only added to her humiliation. The man who let himself in wasnât the landlord, the maintenance man, or even a would-be burglar. Sophie wouldâve rather faced any of those than the man who rounded the sofa and now stared down at her as she struggled to her feet.
âSophie.â He looked worried as his brows drew in. As he crouched down to her, his eyes raked over her body. âLet me help you.â
Pushing off the plush carpet, Sophie refused to meet his eyes or even think of the concern sheâd seen flash through them. âIâm fine.â
âYou fell.â
âI tripped.â Coming to her feet, she placed a hand on the back of the couch until she was steady. The familiar twinge in her hip had escalated to full-on piercing pain, and she needed to remain still until it subsided. âWhat are you doing here?â
The muscle in his jaw clenched as he came to his full height, towering over her and making her feel so small. He fisted his hands on his narrow hips and said nothing. The way he just stared at her did absolutely nothing to lessen her humiliation. Falling was one thing, but doing so because of an injury that continued to hinder her life at the most inopportune times was degrading.
Knowing Zach had never forgiven himself for her handicap still sent an ache through her that she feared would never go away. Sophie actually hurt for him.
âZach?â
Dark eyes darted to hers, to her legs, then back up. âYou didnât hurt yourself when you tripped, did you?â
âUm . . . no.â Sheâd never admit her pain, especially to him. âI trip all the time.â
The muscle ticked even more. âBecause of . . .â He trailed off, but pointed to her leg as if he couldnât even say the word âlimp.â
As embarrassing as this was to make him uncomfortable because of her injury, she shook her head. âNo. I just didnât know who was coming in and I was trying to get to the pepper spray in my purse.â
A portion of the truthâthat was all he was getting from her.
Zach rubbed his hand across his bearded jaw, and the bristling sound sent shivers through her. She didnât want shivers, had no room in her life for shivers. At least not from this man.
Still, that sound couldnât help but conjure up thoughts as to how the coarse hair would feel against her skin. Unfortunately, sheâd never know.
She had to admit Zach Monroeâs wide shoulders, scruffy jawline, and menacing, icy eyes were quite mesmerizing. Still, she wasnât looking for a man; she already had one.
Besides, she couldnât fully get over the way Zach had treated her over the past decade. Being dismissed, ignored, or barely given the time of day was damn hurtful, even if he was using it as a defense mechanism.
Still, her body responded to the man each and every time he was near . . . each response stronger than the last. Ignoring that invisible pull was
Meredith Clarke, Ally Summers