she asked, giving him an irritable, exasperated glance. Her gaze stuck and remained glued to his face.“Damn,” she mumbled when the boiling water she’d been slowly pouring into his coffee pot overfilled the filter and splashed onto her hand. Suddenly Alex was beside her. He took the teapot and tossed it onto the stove before he grabbed her wrist. The next thing she knew he was standing next to her at the sink while he held her burned hand beneath the flow of the frigid water.She grimaced in discomfort. “That water is like ice. Don’t tell me you actually took a shower in that.”“It did the job,” he muttered.Angeline inhaled shakily. He was right. He stood so close she breathed his scent, and he smelled fantastic—like spicy, clean male. She glanced up nervously into his face. The single kerosene lamp cast it in as much shadow as fiery glow.“You trimmed your beard.” The sight of the neat goatee that surrounded his firm, sensual mouth had been what had caused her to burn herself.
