“I, ah…I know.”
“Oh. Good.” She returned to his side and shot their joined hands a startled look.
Fair enough—he understood. He’d done his utmost to avoid her and now he wouldn’t let go. But curiously, she didn’t try to make him.
It felt almost as if those limbs belonged to two different people entirely. The fingers entwined and palms clasped tight. Kind of odd how well her smaller hand fitted inside his, almost as if they’d been doing it forever. He held her hand up to his face. A fine layer of dirt lay beneath a couple of the short, neat nails. Interesting—perhaps the princess might not be so perfect. What had she had been up to?
The elevator doors opened and they walked back to the domicile, hand in hand. It wasn’t far—home, sweet home. When the door slid shut behind them, locking them in, he breathed out an almighty sigh of relief. Just let it all out. It left him on a groan, low and tired and plaintive.
He had survived another memorial.
They stood there in silence.
“Adam?” she asked after a while.
“Yeah?”
“Are you all right?” Louise stepped out of her heels with a hand on the door for balance. She dropped by about three inches, no longer matching his height. Her toes flexed and stretched against the floor and she made a small, happy noise. It was cute. Asking her to put the sexy shoes back on was probably out of the question, no matter how hard his day had been.
“I’m fine. Thanks.” His eyes drifted back to their joined hands. Specifically, to her nails. “Come over here.”
“Hmm?”
Adam led her to the two-seater table where he had left his pocketknife.
“Keep still.” He flicked out the two-inch blade and felt her flinch. She tugged on her hand but he didn’t let go. “You’ve got dirt beneath your nails.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh.”
“I was going to get it out.”
Even in the low lighting he could see her color and a reluctant smile spread across her face. “Thank you.”
Her hand relaxed in his and he bent over it and got to work, carefully digging out the deposits beneath her short nails. Going slowly because he didn’t want to slip up and hurt her and, besides, he’d gotten used to holding her hand by now. He wasn’t in any rush not to. It felt nice—odd but nice.
His wife had rescued him. Warm, fuzzy feelings rose up inside.
A job like this meant they had to stand close and she stood right there, next to him. The citrusy scent of her shampoo or whatever it was lingered around them. Her shoulder brushed against his and he held still, hyper-aware of her. Arm tensed, he waited to see if it happened again. Her breath warmed the side of his neck. It was the faintest thing but he liked it—all of it—surprisingly, and a lot.
“What have you been doing?” he asked.
“Working down in the gardens.”
“Really?” he asked, amazed. But then, where else was she likely to get dirt beneath her nails? The princess gardening—go figure.
“Yeah.”
“Huh.”
“They’re short on people, so I volunteered.”
“Did you?”
“Yes. I did.” Her hand stiffened in his and the whip-like snap in her voice dissolved any ease between them. Suddenly everything was fucking horrible once again, awkward and unwelcome. They were strangers. “You disapprove?”
“No. Why would I?” What had he been thinking? This wasn’t going to work. Adam took one last look at her fingers and set her free. “They’re all fine. I’m going to take a shower.”
She’d fucked it up.
Louise watched as Adam disappeared into the bathroom. The hand he’d been holding was clutched to her chest. It had been so long since she’d been touched in anything but a cursory manner. Things like the guards guiding her here and there, or the DA giving her fingers a comforting squeeze. Stuff like that—unimportant social niceties.
It had been so long since she’d experienced any awareness of a man. Felt the knowledge of herself as a woman. The surreal buzz in her body as her hormones woke up.
And they had been communicating. Real, live, actual talking. Then she had opened her mouth, jumped to the wrong conclusion and shut him down.
“Great going.”
Not a scrap of muck in sight beneath her nails. What a fallback job for him if the mining grew old. He’d been so careful, gentle. There’d been a thread between them, something delicate growing in the proximity.
And Adam was…well, Adam was rather easy on the eye.
Turned out her husband was actually all sorts of lovely when he wasn’t fresh off a drinking binge. His cheekbones and jaw should be rendered in stone, all strong, clean lines. He had a high forehead and short, dark hair. There was a small dent in his chin, visible when it wasn’t covered in a three-day growth. He even smelled nice. Warm and male and…
Louise squeezed her thighs together and hugged her hand tight to her chest.
Her husband.
The bathroom door remained closed.
Of course.
Distantly, there was the low hum of the shower running.