Page 53 of Chris

That wasn’t possible.

She didn’t dare say it though, because a brief flutter of hope danced through her heart, swelling to epic proportions, and threatened to drown her with the emotion. It had been so goddamn long since she felt anything akin to hope. How sad was that?

“She told me you’re unhappy,” Chris murmured. “Your daughter, I mean.”

“Don’t put her in danger by asking—”

“You don’t give her enough credit, Val. She is young, but she is not stupid.”

Valeria met his gaze, unsure and wary. “You made her a promise. I heard you say that. What was it?”

His grin deepened. “I shouldn’t tell. I made a pinky promise—”

“Stop it.”

“Relax,” he said, one of his hands coming up to stroke the line of her jaw with his thumb and forefinger. The soft touch made her sigh and tilt her head into his hand a little more, not that she had any business doing that at all. “I promised you would be happy soon, and no one would hurt you. All she wants is for her mom to be happy again, okay?”

Fuck him.

For doing that, and telling her, even if she asked. For giving her hope.

A tear fell from the corner of Valeria’s eye, but Chris quickly wiped it away before it got very far. He did the same for the other side of her face when she blinked, and more tears threatened to fall.

“Why did you do that in the stables … kiss me, I mean?”

“Not sure,” Chris murmured, his thumb sweeping her cheekbone as he spoke. “It’s not something I was supposed to do. I asked first, you nodded.”

“I did,” she agreed softly, “although I’m not sure why.”

“Then, we’re in the same position.”

And what a position.

“Not part of the job, then?”

His stare snapped down to her mouth. “No. I just …”

“What? Because I don’t think you understand how dangerous this is for me.”

“I do, Val. I promise I do, and if you don’t—or didn’t—want me to do that, all you have to do is say.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, her back straightening at the directness of his tone. “I don’t, no.”

Chris frowned. “What?”

“Get a say. About sex. Or I never have, and I realized you’re right, too.”

His hands dropped to her thighs overtop the skirt of her dress, and his fingers flexed gently. As supportive as it seemed, his silent acknowledgement of her truth, it also reminded her all he had to do was push up her dress around her thighs, spread her wide, and he would have her.

She wanted it.

“Sex … anything like it,” she whispered, “has always been used against me, and I’ve never wanted someone else before. Not him, not a stranger—no one.”

“Except me,” he murmured.

Valeria peeked up at him through her lashes, only then realizing she had been staring at the corded band of muscles lining his broad shoulders, and the way his throat jumped when his gaze dropped to her lips.

Desire.