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so you understand.”
    Her lids lowered fractionally and she licked her lips, making him think that, once again, she’d be the one doing the kissing. But she caught herself and leaned back just enough to break the contact between them. She turned her head and seemed to be trying to hide her desire behind a sudden interest in the flickering flames.
    Silence, peaceful but expectant, settled around them. The server peeked his head around the banquette to see if they needed anything, but Marcus flapped a hand to shoo him away. He didn’t need anything but this. He watched Claudia, ready and eager to catch whatever she decided to throw at him next.
    “Were you scared today, Marcus?” she asked after a while. “On the plane?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Really scared?”
    “Yeah.”
    “What did you think about in that moment? Did you pray?”
    Once again, his mouth filled up with words he meant but wasn’t ready to say and she damn sure wasn’t ready to hear. Here in their little private corner, though, danger of any kind, physical or emotional, seemed very far away. So he decided to be honest with her.
    “I thought about my wife. And...you.”
    Her head came around, her silvery eyes wide with surprise, and a wealth of possibilities seemed to blossom in that second. She didn’t ask what he’d been thinking about her, which was good, because he wasn’t sure he could articulate the mixture of emotions he’d felt—familiarity and surprise, yearning and anticipation, gratitude that he’d met her and fear that it might already be too late to explore their attraction.
    “Why—” she began shakily, then had to pause to clear her throat “—why would you think about me at all in a moment like that?”
    He tried for a smile. It wouldn’t come. “I wish I knew.”
    They stared at each other. Something in her searching gaze gave him the courage to ask, quietly, “Did you think about me?”
    She blinked and looked at the coffee table, her expression pensive. One beat passed, then two. At last she seemed to decide something, reached for her tablet and leaned back against the cushions again.
    “I made a list,” she said, tapping the screen to bring up a document. “Things that went through my mind when I thought we might crash. Things I regret.”
    He nodded, fighting hard to resist touching her again, especially at this moment that felt so vulnerable.
    “Number One—I regret that I skipped the dinner at my mother’s house last October so I could go woo a potential client. At the time, I thought it was the most important night of my life.” She made a bitter sound. “But I didn’t get her business and my mother died of cardiac arrest the next morning. Good decision, eh?”
    “Ah, man.” He understood that kind of shock and pain all too well. “Claudia, I’m sorry—”
    She flashed him a wry smile. “I know, I know—you’re sorry. Only I don’t do emotional stuff very well, so I’m going to need you to sit quietly so I don’t fall apart.”
    “I understand,” he said quickly.
    “Good. So, the thing is—”
    “That’s why you were crying earlier, isn’t it?”
    “Yes, Marcus,” she said, glaring at him. “Now will you shut the bloody hell up?”
    “You got it.”
    She watched him, making sure he kept his word. He sealed his lips. When she was satisfied, she started again. “With my mother, well, that’s not a regret I can do anything about, is it? And if she were here and I apologized for it, I know she’d look at me as though I’d gone insane, so I know she forgives me. Oh, and she left me this necklace that she always wore. My father gave it to her. I’ve never even met him. But I have this necklace. It’s jade.”
    She held it out, and he saw that it was an intricately carved dragon pendant in shades of green.
    “Beautiful,” he said.
    “Thanks,” she said absently, taking a deep breath and plowing ahead. “But I have regrets I want to correct, which brings me to Number Two—”
    “You