“English,” he said, pressing a hand to his stomach as it began to knot. “Use English. You don’t know what it does to me when you talk in Russian.”

“It’s not Russian.” Snatching his good arm, she pulled him inside. “You were just showing off, that’s all. Oh, it’s just like a man.” Still pulling him, she stalked into the elevator.

“Sorry.” He was fighting off a grin, trying to look humble. “I don’t know what got into me.” He certainly wasn’t going to admit he’d had worse scratches shaving.

“Testosterone,” she said between her teeth. “You can’t help it.” She kept her hand on him until she’d gotten them inside her apartment. “Sit,” she ordered, and dashed into the bathroom.

He sat, making himself at home by propping his feet on her coffee table. “Maybe I should have a brandy,” he called out. “In case I’m going into shock.”

She hurried back out with bandages and a small bowl of soapy water. “Do you feel sick?” Scared all over again, she pressed a hand to his brow. “Are you dizzy?”

“Let’s see.” Always willing to take advantage of an opportunity, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her mouth to his. “Yeah,” he said when he let her go. “You could say I’m feeling a little light-headed.”

“Fool.” She slapped his hand aside, then sat down to clean the wound. “This could have been serious.”

“It was serious,” he told her. “I hate having someone poke me in the back with a knife when I’m kissing a woman. Honey, if you don’t stop shaking, I’m going to have to get you a brandy.”

“I’m not shaking—or if I am, it’s just because I’m mad.” She tossed her hair back and glared at him. “Don’t you ever do that again.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

To pay him back for the smirk, she dumped iodine over the wound. When he swore, it was her turn to smile. “Baby,” she said accusingly, but then took pity on him and blew the heat away. “Now hold still while I put a bandage on it.”

He watched her work. It was very pleasant to feel her fingers on his skin. It seemed only natural that he should lean over to nibble at her ear.

Fire streaked straight up her spine. “Don’t.” Shifting out of reach, she pulled his sleeve down over the fresh bandage. “We’re not going to pick things up now. Not here.” Because if they did, she knew there would be no backing off.

“I want you, Rachel.” He caught her hand in his before she could stand. “I want to make love with you.”

“I know what you want. I have to know what I want.”

“Before we were interrupted downstairs, I think that was pretty clear.”