Page 84 of Being Bold
He released her arm and extended a hand, his smile never wavering. “Barrett Burkhart. And you are?”
She started reaching for his hand, but then her brain reminded her she needed to get the hell out. “Leaving,” she huffed, then spun around.
She winced when she took a step too vigorously, the pressure sending a sharp ache vibrating down her injured leg. Burkhart noticed.
“You’re hurt,” he told her with a frown.
Ignoring him, she tried to keep her face in a neutral expression to hide it as she moved toward the ballroom exit. She made it a few steps, panting in pain, before Mr. Handsome lifted her off her feet. He carried her against his chest with one arm at her back, the other underneath her legs as though she weighed nothing.
“Put me down!” she hissed under her breath. People were starting to notice, and she wriggled in panic. “Now, dammit!”
Concern dotted his features, but he did as she asked. “Let me help you.”
“If you want to help, let me lean on your arm,” she demanded while surveying the ballroom. The people whose attention they’d drawn had returned to their conversations. Yumi breathed a slow exhale of relief.
When she glanced at Barrett Burkhart again—What kind of name is that?—he held his arm out, waiting. Sliding hers through, she leaned heavily into him with her left side.
“Okay, Barry—”
“It’s Barrett.”
The fact that she detected annoyance at the nickname almost made her grin. “Right. Let’s walk naturally to the nearest exit. Please,” she added through clenched teeth.
“Who are you?” he asked as he complied.
“Who areyou?” she countered, hoping inane conversation would keep her mind off the burning pain.
“I’m a lawyer with the State Department. What brings you to this event?”
“You ask a lot of questions, BB.”
“BB?” He shook his head, but she detected a smile in his voice as he said, “I’m a lawyer. It’s my job to ask questions. You evading them only makes me want to know more.”
“Hmm,” she hummed a noncommittal response and steered him toward the elevator. No way would she make it up the stairsright now. The cloth around her leg had soaked through with blood, and she was afraid to look down to see if she made a trail.
“What happened to your leg?”
“Someone cut it.”
“Are you serious?” His question sounded choked.
“Yep,” she popped the “p.”
Hitting the button to call the elevator, she turned to stare at him. His eyes were wide in shock. She arched her brow at him. He blinked, dropping to his knees in front of her. Then, he reached for the hem of her dress and started to lift it.
“Hey!” She swatted his hands away and stepped back. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He blew out a breath, then ran a hand through his perfectly-styled hair, mussing it a little. “Do you need a doctor?”
“No. I just need to get out of this building.” She glared at the elevator. The embassy didn’t have that many floors. Why the hell was it taking so long?
“Who did that to you?” The fury shining in his eyes with the question made her own widen in surprise.
Seriously, who is this guy?
The elevator dinged, and she looked away. Wondering if he’d follow, she stepped into the lift.
Burkhart was right behind her. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”
