A familiar strong arm grabbed her around the waist and jerked her to her feet.

“Maybe you should use a cane,” he said.

“Maybe you should warn me about stairs.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“That’s it?” she demanded. “Let’s pause for a moment, because your incredible concern is making me all teary-eyed. I fell.”

“I know. So what? You’re going to fall. Then you’re going to get up and move on. Or are you the type to just lie there, feeling sorry for yourself? Never mind. I already know the answer.”

She wanted to tell him she wasn’t like that. She was the one who climbed mountains and jumped out of airplanes and swam with sharks. She didn’t believe in self-pity or giving up. At least she hadn’t until the explosion.

“You don’t understand,” she told him.

“You sure about that?”

She heard footsteps, but couldn’t tell the direction. Who else was here and what would he or she want from her?

“Oh, you’re back. Good. I have papers for you to sign, Nick. And you must be Izzy. I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you.”

The man reached for her hand and shook it. His fingers were nearly as soft and smooth as Skye’s or Lexi’s.

“This is going to be fun. You’re staying here in the house. You know that, right? Upstairs. I picked out your room myself. It has great light. Is Nick taking you on the tour? Don’t you love the kitchen? I swear Norma, our cook-slash-housekeeper is going to kill me with her biscuits. I can’t resist them but I refuse to let my jeans get any tighter. I love your hair. Are those curls natural? They’re beautiful. Don’t you think they’re beautiful, Nick?”

“Stunning.” Nick sounded more resigned than impatient as he spoke.

Izzy turned toward the enthusiastic new guy. “Who are you?”