Now Zara stared back at him with passion blazing in those striking eyes. She didn’t step forward to meet him, but she no longer looked as if she wanted to flee the room. As he stood within touching distance, Braden took in the rapid pulse at the base of her throat, her shallow breathing and wide eyes. She wasn’t thinking how angry she was now. “You’re not running,” he muttered, delighting in the fact she tipped her head up to look at him instead of backing up. Braden reached out, tucking her hair behind her ear and sliding his fingertip along her jawline. “Why is that, Zara?” “Because this is my house, and I’m not afraid of you.” For such a petite woman, he was impressed. He intimidated men twice her size, yet this woman wasn’t backing down. He admired her—more than he should, because all he wanted from her on a personal level was right here and right now. The scroll business had no place in this bedroom.
