He moved to the faded red chair she'd indicated. As he…

““He moved to the faded red chair she'd indicated. As he lowered himself into it, there was a loud crack. One of the wooden legs snapped and broke, just as Sophia and Angus had planned when they'd sawed it half-through. A normal man would have been tossed to the floor, but with a little twist, MacLean shifted his weight forward and managed to remain upright, turning to regard the chair as it collapsed. Sophia swept to her feet. "Goodness! How horrid!" She narrowed her gaze accusingly at the chair. There was nothing like a little humiliation to set a man against a location, and it was a pity MacLean hadn't been thrown to the floor as she'd planned. MacLean bent and picked up a piece of the broken chair, his expression unfathomable. "Horrid, indead." Her desire to smile fled. Did he suspect something? Could he see where Angus had cut the chair let partway through? MacLean hefted the leg in his hand, his mouth thinned. Sophia cleared her throat. "I'll call the butler to remove that." His gaze locked with hers.The chair leg still in his hand,he walked toward her. Sophia licked her suddenly dry lips. She didn't know this man, not really. What was he going to do? She gripped the arms of her chair. Should she run for help? Surely not. Nothing she'd heard had indicated MacLean was a man of violence. Of course, everything she knew of him was mere heresay- He stopped before her and stook looking down into her face with the faintest of smiles. He didn't look angry; he looked knowing. As if he understood exactly what she'd done and why. A fear of another kind gripped her. Surely, he didn't. There was no way he could- MacLean leaned forward. Sophia's heart jumped, her skin warming oddly when his arm brushed her shoulder as he leaned past her...and tossed the chair leg onto the unlit fireplace.””

— Karen Hawkins