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Because instead of pain, I’m met with a spark of warmth.

In a fleeting moment, the tip of his index finger swipes gently across my cheek, collecting a single tear that decided to escape, offering me the gentlest touch I’ve ever felt from a man in my life.

He lowers his hand, and I open my eyes, staring up into the dark gaze of one of the most lethal men in the world, not feeling fear, but…safe.

I feel safe.

A longing to step closer to him stirs within me.

To bury my face against his chest and cry until I have no tears left.

To have his arms protectively wrap around my body.

To confess that it’s only been him I’ve thought about since the day I met him in that bathroom.

My lips part, words on the tip of my tongue I want to say, but they refuse to leave me.

He clears his throat, stepping back to put distance between us. “We should get back.” He offers a slight grin. “Madeleine will eat your dessert if you’re not there to claim it.”

A tiny laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “We can’t let that happen.”

I wipe the dampness from beneath my eyes and turn toward the staircase. With every step back down, I try to convince myself that what just happened meant nothing.

That the ache in my chest and the warmth lingering on my cheek from his touch were nothing more than the desperate imaginings of a woman who had forgotten what kindness felt like.

And yet…

No matter how hard I try…

I can’t forget the way he makes my heart beat.

We enter Alex’s home just after midnight, the room shadowed in darkness. He cradles Clara to his chest, the little girl sound asleep in her daddy’s arms, where she’s safe from the world.

He flicks a switch, and soft ambient light spills across the room, welcoming us home.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been around people without wanting to crawl out of my skin. But tonight, with his family, I felt almost like I belonged there.

And it felt nice.

“I’m going to put Clara to bed,” Alex tells me quietly.

I nod, shrugging off my sweater as a small yawn escapes me, the soft fabric sliding from my shoulders.

“Keep that on,” he says, causing me to still.

“There’s something I’d like to show you before you go to bed.” He pauses, his expression softening. “If that’s alright with you.”

I tug my sweater up over my shoulders, pulling it around my waist, and nod.

“I’ll be right back.” He heads for the stairs, taking them carefully so as not to wake Clara, while I wait by the door.

A moment later, he returns, his hands in his pockets as he takes the last step. My eyes meet his, and he jerks his chin toward the back of the house, walking that way.

Against my better judgment, I follow him to the back door and outside to the edge of the woods. A trail appears, and we walk side by side beneath the moonlight.

Pulling out his phone, he taps the screen, and strings of lights along the path illuminate the way to…

I freeze, a small gasp catching in my throat as I stare ahead.