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organized, files alphabetized, supplies that were running low re-ordered, and she’d even cleaned the place.
    At five she shut down her computer, but instead of leaving, she decided on a drink. She settled at the bar and Tara slid a napkin in front of her.
    “How was the first day?”
    “Good. I got a lot done.”
    “What can I get you?”
    “Glass of pinot grigio, please.”
    Darcy watched as Tara poured the wine before placing the glass in front of her.
    “On the house. Welcome to the team, Darcy.”
    The burning behind her eyes surprised her and she said, “Thank you, Tara.”

    Later that night, Darcy returned home, dropped her keys on her table, kicked off her shoes, and went in search of another glass of wine. All in all, it could have been a worse first day. The job was interesting, even more so because she got an insight into what Lucien had accomplished since she’d last seen him.
    She poured the ruby-red wine into a glass and took a long sip as she pondered Lucien’s absence. Was it intentional? Probably, but then she had been expecting some kind of retaliation from him. She had it coming. She had the sense that he was testing her, but she was made of stronger stuff than she used to be. She would stick with it if for no other reason than to remind him that she could. She had before, had been there to offer him the comfort he had needed so desperately.

    Fourteen years earlier . . .
    He had walked the length of the garden countless times with his head down and his shoulders slumped, and she knew he was hurting. A part of him was gone. It wasn’t even a conscious thought that made her go to him. When she reached him, she took his hand into hers. His head lifted to show his teal eyes filled with tears.
    She couldn’t take the pain away, but she could show him that he wasn’t alone, that he was still loved. He didn’t argue when she led him back inside and up the stairs to the one place they were sure to have privacy. He stood silently at the door of the attic while she spread the blankets on the floor, watched her as she pulled her hair down. His eyes fixed on hers when she bridged the distance between them and pressed her mouth to his. They’d kissed countless times, but this kiss was different. He didn’t move at first, frozen as if he wasn’t sure she was real, and then his arms wrapped around her and pulled her so close. She framed his face and kissed him again, her tongue touching the corner of his mouth before running slowly along the seam of his lips. His hand cradled the back of her head and his mouth opened so his tongue could touch hers. Desire shot down to her toes. His skin was so warm as her hands moved over the muscles of his back, trailing down the deep groove of his spine and following the curve of his ass.
    She took a step back from him and reached for her shirt; his eyes were hungry as he watched her lift it up over her head. His gaze moved over her possessively before his eyes returned to hers and, knowing what she was offering, he reached for the back of his shirt and pulled it forward over his head. He stepped to her, his fingers running down along her arms, across her collarbone, down between her breasts. His fingers flipped the clasp on her bra and his hands moved the silk, exposing her to his hot gaze. He touched her, his fingers brushing over her taut nipple before following the curve of her breast. He palmed her breasts and gently squeezed before he lowered his head and touched his tongue to her nipple. Moisture wet her panties as a throbbing started between her legs, and then he pulled her breast into his mouth and a sound of pure pleasure rumbled low in her throat and she moved her hands to his head to hold him there. He teased and sucked on her, taking turns with each breast, before he kissed down her belly until he was kneeling in front of her. He looked up as if he was asking for permission before he unbuttoned her jeans and moved them down her legs. A light touch on her