staying strong while rescuers searched and the weather hampered efforts. Surely having Julian and Sammy home would bring him some measure of comfort.
Tears welled and overflowed, sliding down her cheek. She made no effort to stop them. Tightening her arms around Julian, she buried her face in his chest, allowing the fine silk of his shirt to absorb the wetness. In response, the arms that enfolded her were strong, and the cheek that rested against her temple held its own dampness.
“My father broke on the phone,” he whispered. “Just broke down and cried.” She heard how his father’s pain cut him deeply.
Okay, this was so not the way to achieve distance in their relationship. And she didn’t care. His pain touched her. It would take a colder person than her to ignore his bid for comfort.
“It is okay for him to cry,” she assured him in case the tears embarrassed him. “Even kings are allowed to mourn their sons.”
“He would hate for anyone to know.”
“His secret is safe with me.” She backed up and gently cleaned his face with a tissue from her pocket. “Your secret is safe with me.”
“How am I going to tell Sammy?” he demanded, voice raw.
“Wait,” she suggested. “There is no need for him to know yet. Wait until he is home, surrounded by those he knows and loves in a familiar setting. I believe it would be less traumatic in those circumstances.”
“Perhaps.” He closed his eyes as if the weight of the decision took total concentration. “I am no good at these flash decisions. I like to gather my information, act from a position of knowledge.”
“Making quick decisions is really no different. You just use the information you have. And then you gather more knowledge so you are better informed the next time you have to act.”
“So wise.” He kissed the back of her hand; the heat of his breath tickling over her skin made her shiver, distracting her for a moment. The old-fashioned gesture was definitely not meant to be shared between employer and nanny. And then he turned her hand over and kissed the palm.
Her breath caught. Oh my.
He regained her attention when he framed her face in two large hands and lifted her gaze to his.
“Thank you.” His thumbs feathered over her cheeks collecting the last of her tears. “You are a very giving woman.”
“No one should be alone at such a time.” She lifted her right hand and wrapped her fingers around one thick wrist, not knowing if she meant to hold him to her or pull him free.
“It’s a dangerous trait.” The thumb of the hand she held continued to caress her cheek, though he seemed almost unaware of the gesture.
“Why?” she breathed.
“Someone may take advantage of you.”
A knot clenched her gut. Someone had. The harsh memory threatened to destroy the moment. She should step back, return to her duties. But she didn’t. Because of the glint of vulnerability in his eyes.
Instead she bit her bottom lip and stayed put. For the first time she successfully stayed quiet. Perhaps because she needed this moment as much as he did.
“There is only you and me here.” She blinked, noting the look in his eyes had changed. The pain lingered but awareness joined the grief. “Are you going to take advantage?”
“Yes.” He lowered his head. “I am.” And he pressed his mouth to hers. He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips then nipped her bottom lip. “You tempt me so when you torture this lip.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he took full advantage, sealing her mouth with his. Heat bloomed, senses taking over as sensation ignited passion. Large and warm, he dwarfed her, his strong body a shelter against the craziness of the past few days. He drew her closer, aligning her curves with his hard contours, taking the sensual escape to deeper levels.
For long moments she surrendered to his touch, to his heat, to his need. Lifting onto tiptoes, she looped her arms around his neck and got lost with him in a world
Learning to Kill: Stories