He looked down. And straight into the valley of her cleavage. Her skin was pale and lightly freckled. And looked very, very soft. A deep, guttural sound left his throat before he could stop it.

She looked up. “What?”

He jerked his head up to stare into the woods. “Nothing.”

“I heard something.”

“Clearing my throat.” He kept his eyes straight ahead as she went back to work. He felt a small tug on the brace.

“There.” She stood up. “I adjusted the little stabilizer knob. It was turned all the way up.” She held her hand out.

He looked at her palm. “What?”

“Crutch, please.”

“And if I fall, you think you can get me upright again? All…” He gave her a hard once-over. “Hundred and ten pounds of you?”

“You’re not going to fall.” She put her hand on the crutch and leaned in. “And my weight is my business, but if it makes you feel better, I weigh a hundred and thirty. Say anything about it, and that fall might happen sooner than you think.”

He smiled at her feistiness, unable to help himself. “Threats, eh? Now that is how to get a Russian to respond.” He handed her the crutch. This was going to be extraordinarily painful, but he could manage.

“We Irish are a stubborn lot.” An odd look came over her face as she stepped out of his way.

He didn’t give it much thought, because it was time to move. He put a little weight on his injured leg. Pain twisted around his joint and tightened his muscles, causing him to curse under his breath.

“I don’t understand Russian, but that’s probably for the best.” She winced in sympathy. “I’m sorry it’s so painful. I promise it gets better.”

He limped forward, gritting his teeth against the onslaught of electrified nerves. The venom felt like fire, and not the good kind. It burned with every step, until the edges of his vision started to dim. He grabbed the hand railing and leaned against it to catch his breath.

Lisa raced to his side. “You did great. Wow, you walked the whole way to the end. That was amazing. That’s enough for now. Here.” She stuck his crutch under his arm. “I’m going to tighten up the stabilizer again, okay?”

He nodded. Her perfume teased his nose with its sweet, earthy smell. Maybe catching his breath wasn’t such a good idea.

She crouched down like she had before.

This time, he didn’t look at the woods. Instead, he very subtly shifted his gaze toward her and allowed himself to enjoy just how pretty she was.

Even better, though, was how beautiful she was inside. As a person. She was pushy and stubborn and unafraid. In that way, she reminded him of Pandora a little. But he’d never wanted to kiss Pandora.

He lurched a little as that thought filled his brain.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?”

“Nyet.” He did not want to kiss Lisa.

Did he?

She stood. “Okay, you’re stiff again.”

He stared at her. “What?”

Her cheeks went pink, and she became suddenly preoccupied with getting a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I mean, the brace is tightened. I, uh, I need to go record today in my workbook. You want help getting inside?”

“Nyet. No.”

“Great. Good. I’ll, um, okay. Later.” She disappeared into the house.

He closed his eyes and stood right where he was, letting the cold air wash over him. Something his father used to say ran through his head. The appetite comes with eating.

Van hadn’t had the slightest desire to be involved with a woman. And now he was thinking about kissing Lisa.

Was it just her nearness? Because she was smart and pretty and interesting? Or because he was lonely? And pathetic?

She was probably only being nice to him because it was her job. He was injured too, which could make her feel sorry for him.

He opened his eyes, his jaw clenched tight. He was no one’s pity case. She’d no doubt laugh if she knew what was going through his head right now. Well, that was done with.

He wheeled around and went into the house, then straight to his office, calling Grom to join him. The dog seemed to know where Van was going and ran ahead into the office to stand on the bed Van kept in there for him.

“Good dog,” Van said as he shut the office door.

Grom turned around three times before flopping down with a sigh.

Van nodded. “You and me both.”

He eased into his big leather chair, leg outstretched to the side. His knee ached worse than it had in days, but deep down, he felt a small sense of accomplishment at walking as far as he had without the crutch.

But then, he’d never doubted his ability to recover. He just hadn’t planned on being forced to do it this soon.

Whatever. Pain was only weakness leaving the body.

He turned on his computer and fired up the program he’d been using.

A woman’s perfect American voice trilled out of the speakers. “I would like an orange soda.”

Van repeated. “I would like an orange soda.”

“This soda tastes good.”

He echoed the sentence back. “This soda tastes good.”

But soda wasn’t even close to what he really wanted a taste of.

Monalisa stood in the middle of the guest room, which was more clearly Van’s than ever before. His smoky scent lingered, and now that she’d gotten to know him a little, she could picture him here. Sitting in the reading nook with Grom at his feet, lounging on the bed watching fight videos, taking long hot, showers…