"I'll fill a tray for Mr. Thornton," she offered, eager for any excuse to check up on the man and judge the severity of his injuries for herself, "and take it to the workshop." "That won't be necessary, Miss Greyson, but thank you." Nicole spun toward the doorway. "Dar--Mr. Thornton!" She raked her gaze over his tall form. He moved a bit gingerly as he entered the kitchen, but that was to be expected after the abuse his body had taken that afternoon. No bandages in evidence, at least none that she could see. She supposed it was possible he had a wound concealed beneath his dark trousers, but she gauged his movements as he ambled to the table and didn't detect a limp or any hitch in his stride. "Do I pass inspection?" The amusement in his voice brought a rush of heat to her cheeks. "That depends," she brazened, lifting her chin. "Are there any hidden injuries I should be concerned about?" He made his way around the table, running his fingers along the back of each chair. "Such a personal question, Miss Greyson." A teasing gleam lit his eyes as he steadily approached. Nicole dropped the bread knife and turned to face him fully, reaching behind herself to grip the cabinet top for support. "But you can put your mind at ease." He didn't stop when he rounded the table. He kept coming. Nicole's pulse fluttered, and her grip on the cabinet doubled. "Except for a pile of bruises and some overheated skin, I'm fine." He ceased his advance. Finally. She had to tilt her head back to hold his gaze, though, so close had he come. "I'm glad to hear it. Sir." She added the last to try to force some distance between them. With him standing so close, all she could think about was that unexpected kiss they'd shared. Not the healthiest train of thought for a young woman who planned to leave as soon as monetarily possible. He was her employer. That was all."