His hand snapped over her wrist with startling speed; she cried out at the sudden pain. His eyes were open, and for a moment, she imagined she saw black filling the whites again. Then he blinked, and the sharpness to his expression softened. He let her go as though he’d been burned. “Forgiveness.” His voice was husky with exhaustion. “Habit.” “Well, you should have known I wasn’t going to attack you,” Lan said, raising the hot water kettle to pour more water into the bucket. “This isn’t a teapot.” Through the steam rising gently between them, she caught his smile. Warmth rushed through her,
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