At the end of my reading, the lecturer asked the newcomer his name, I hadn't seen him since that early morning encounter several weeks before. My heart skipped a beat and the fear came flooding back.
For our part, the only time our heart comes close to missing a beat is when Denice wedges the still-full carton of popcorn between her thighs and invites us to help ourselves whenever we feel like it.
My heart lurched and seemed to miss a beat, but I went on reading calmly, though the print was blurred. (BNC-B)