Page 33 of Bennett

Clutching the tiny bottle like it was some kind of grenade, she pressed herself against the wall next to the broken door. The position was ridiculous, but she was already committed.

The footsteps headed to her apartment then stopped before the door slowly creaked open.

With her racing heart pounding in her ears, Laurel didn’t think. She just reacted.

“Take that!” With a wild, desperate yell, she lobbed the hand sanitizer straight at the intruder’s head.

“Shit.”

The deep voice startled her almost as much as the thud of something heavy hitting the floor.

A crowbar?

But she wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

Ignoring the discarded object, she lunged forward with a quick jab aimed directly at the guy’s face.

But he was faster. Much faster.

He dodged her punch and snatched her wrist, his grip firm but not painful.

She twisted, letting the momentum pull her into a spinning kick. But he was already one step ahead, intercepting her leg with maddening precision, and throwing her balance off enough that she stumbled.

Before she could recover, her back hit the wall, and she found herself pinned.

Strong hands held her wrists against the cool drywall, his solid body pressing close enough to trap her in place.

“What the hell, Sinclair?” the intruder muttered, his voice low and angry…and very familiar. “You trying to break my nose?”

“Bennett?”

Chapter Seven

Laurel’s breath came in shallow, uneven pants, her heart racing from both the attack and the startling, unwelcome thrill of feeling the handsome guy’s strength surrounding her.

“You expecting someone else?”

She gulped in a breath, her mind struggling to catch up with what just happened. “I wasn’t expecting anyone at all. And maybe I wouldn’t have tried to go all Jackie Chan on you if you’d bothered to knock.”

“I did knock,” he grumbled, his glare hot and unyielding. “Not my fault you didn’t hear it, or that the door wasn’t locked.”

“It doesn’t lock!” she snapped back. “Or did you forget that little detail?”

His scowl deepened, and only then did she notice the doorknob and lock set lying forgotten on the floor.

Thecrowbar.

“Well, that’s about to change.” His hands were still on her wrists, the warmth of his grip doing weird things to her pulse. “Not sure what’s worse—you intending to stay here without a locked door, or the fact you just tried to stop me with hand sanitizer.”

“It was the only thing within reach,” she shot back, her cheeks heating. “What was I supposed to do? Politely ask the intruder if he was here to murder me?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched, but his eyes held more amusement than anger. “You could’ve just waited five seconds before launching your little assault.”

She huffed, resisting the urge to squirm under his hold. “Maybe next time you could give a little warning instead of crashing in like a damn bulldozer.”

“I wouldn’t have walked in if your door actually locked.” His fingers released her wrists, but he didn’t step back. Instead, his gaze stayed locked on hers, dark and intense. “Which is why I’m here. To fix the damn thing before someone takes advantage of your stubbornness and lack of common sense.”

“Lack of—” she sputtered, her indignation flaring back to life. “Excuse me for not having a fully secured door on my very first night here.”

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