She was being condescending-a little unkind, even. Stacey, a high-flying corporate lawyer, was so utterly practical and businesslike that it sometimes seemed impossible that they could be sisters-but Ellie was delighted with the description. Only dull, unimaginative people grew out of fairy tales. Didn’t they?

And falling on a man of such hero potential was pure fairy tale-although surely in the fairy tales it didn’t hurt quite so much?

Whatever.

Opportunities like this didn’t come her way often-make that never-which was why she should be making the most of it. Purely for research purposes. But typically, instead of lying dazed in his arms, her cheek pressed firmly against his accommodating chest, listening to his heart skip a beat as he appreciated the colour of her hair, the softness of her ivory skin, the subtle scent of the lavender furniture polish with which she’d been tending his furniture, she’d berated him like a fishwife.

She groaned and let her head sink back to his chest while she recovered her breath along with her wits.

This was no time to let her wits go wandering. It was a disaster! If he was home, he wouldn’t need her to house-sit; she wouldn’t have anywhere to live.

Worse.

She wouldn’t have his house to fire her imagination on a monthly basis for Milady.

Then, realising somewhat belatedly that he hadn’t responded to her less than ladylike reaction, or to her demand for identification, she took a closer look at him-no point pretending to swoon; even if he’d been conscious she’d completely messed up the fainting-violet moment-and the swirling confusion of thoughts and impressions coalesced into a single feeling.

Concern.

‘Dr Faulkner? Are you okay?’

He didn’t look okay.

His eyes were closed and he looked somewhat yellow. As if his colour had drained away under a light tan.

She knew she hadn’t killed him. Under her hand-which had somehow found its way inside his jacket, to lie flat against his chest-his heartbeat was as steady as a rock. It was, however, entirely possible that she, or more likely Emily’s solid leather-bound spine, had knocked him out cold.