her smile.
She leaned against the door frame. ‘Everything all right?’ There were dark shadows under his eyes, and he’d been subdued over dinner.
He lowered the screen on his laptop and smiled at her. ‘Yes, fine. Just uploading a few of the pictures I took today.’ She noticed then the camera connected by a cable to the computer.
‘Ooh, will you show me?’ She hovered on the threshold, eager to see but not wanting to invade his privacy. He hesitated just long enough for her to feel awkward before patting the quilt beside him.
‘Sure.’
‘You don’t have to…’
He shook his head. ‘I’m being daft; don’t mind me.’ He turned the laptop towards her, showing an image of Aaron holding Luke in a headlock. The brothers were laughing, caught completely off guard, and the natural joy Daniel captured in the image drew her closer.
‘It’s wonderful.’ She perched on the edge of the bed and he set the screen down between them.
‘I thought I might send it to their dad. He was always good to me whenever I went for visit.’
‘I bet he’ll love it. Jamie’s parents always moaned about not having enough pictures of him and his brothers once they grew up.’ Daniel stiffened beside her and she cursed herself for bringing Jamie’s name up.
‘You must miss him, terribly,’ he said, eyes fixed hard on the laptop.
‘I do. But it’s getting better every day.’ She touched his arm to make him look at her. ‘You being here is making it better.’ Her fingers tingled with awareness, and she stroked the fine hairs on his forearm.
‘Mia, I—’ Colour suffused his cheeks, disappearing into the dark hair of his beard. What would it feel like if he kissed her? Scratchy or soft? Overwhelmed with curiosity, she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his. His lips parted beneath hers, a soft groan escaping, which she captured as she opened for him. He took control, curling a big hand around the back of her head to hold her in place as he explored her mouth in slow, leisurely strokes.
Her head spun, and things long dormant stirred low in her belly. She gripped the back of his arm tighter, somehow afraid she would float away without an anchor to hold her down.
He broke the kiss on a gasp of air. ‘Go to bed, love. Before I make you regret this.’ His smile was sweet in contrast to the glittering need in his eyes. Thankful he had enough sense for them both, she slipped off the edge of the bed and scampered to the safety of her own room.
***
He shoved the laptop to one side and flopped onto his back, chest working like a bellows. Fists clenched at his sides he counted slowly to twenty, willing the fire in his veins to calm. It took more willpower than he knew he had to lie still instead of sprinting after her. The kiss was a gift. A sweet, sexy gift he didn’t want to throw away by going too fast.
She hadn’t come to his room with the intention of seducing him; that much had been clear by the surprise on her face. The taste of her lingered on his tongue and he forced himself to count again, reaching fifty this time before he got himself under control.
The groan and clank of old pipes startled him and he opened his eyes as he listened to the water hiss through them. Her little bathroom lay just the other side of the wall. His wash kit perched on the window ledge in there mixed together with the myriad bottles and tubes all women seemed to accumulate. He’d felt a bit strange going into her room but it was the only working bathroom on the top floor. At least he’d kept his eyes to himself, crossing her bedroom as quickly as possible whenever he went in there.
An image of Mia slipping into the roll-topped tub filled his head and he buried his head in the pillows with a groan. Being so close to her was torture. With a sigh, he sat up and threw his pillow towards the foot of the bed in frustration. He needed a distraction. Dragging his laptop back over, he did his best to focus on the images on the screen rather than the ones in his mind.
The ache in his neck from leaning forward too long forced him to stop in the end, and he put the laptop into shutdown mode and stowed it on the bedside cabinet. There was no sound from next door, and he frowned trying to recall if he’d heard the bath emptying. He strained his ears for some sign of movement next door, but heard nothing. He was being stupid; she must have got out while he was focused on his work. Crawling under the covers with a tired sigh, he clicked the lamp off and shut his eyes.
Bollocks.
Daniel threw back the quilt and crept quietly from his bed and down the hall. The door to Mia’s bedroom stood slightly ajar, soft light shining through the gap. He peered through, hoping she didn’t catch him acting like some Peeping Tom. The bed lay undisturbed, so he nudged the door a bit wider and took a careful step into the room. A neatly folded pair of pyjamas sat on the foot of the bed. ‘Mia?’
No answer. He crossed to the bathroom and tapped lightly on the door. ‘Everything all right?’ What if she’d slipped over and banged her head or something? Filled with trepidation he turned the handle, raising a hand to his chest in relief at the sight greeting him.
Mia lay in the tub, head pillowed on a folded towel, fast asleep. A few stray bubbles lingered on the surface of the water. He crouched beside the tub, keeping his eyes on her face rather than the blurred outline of her body. ‘Hey, sleepyhead,’ he murmured.
Long dark lashes blinked slowly at him. This close, he could see the ring of dark grey edging the deep brown of her irises. A frown creased her brow. ‘Did I fall asleep?’
‘Mm-hmm. Come on, you must be freezing.’ Keeping his eyes averted, he stood up to grab a bath towel from the rail and held it out to her. Water sloshed and the drain began to gurgle as she pulled the plug and climbed out. He engulfed her in the towel and rubbed her dry with more vigour than finesse.
Satisfied once her skin was pink and glowing, Daniel fetched her pyjamas, leaving the room again to let her dress in private. He glanced around the bedroom, not sure whether he should leave or wait for her to emerge. Deciding he had trespassed enough, he took a step towards the door. The soft gleam of the bedside lamp caught the edge of a silver-framed photo and he paused. He couldn’t make out the detail, but the pose of the couple and their outfits told him it was a wedding picture. A black and white photo stood next to it and he blinked in disbelief. It couldn’t be.
He walked around the side of the bed and picked it up. The picture was of a woman’s delicate hand cradled protectively in a larger, masculine grasp. The man’s thumb was caressing the thick wedding band on the woman’s ring finger. The hands in the photo were not young, but creased and spotted with age and the ring she wore was scratched and nicked. It was a beautiful, simple image of enduring love. In the bottom corner of the image was a familiar scrawled word, Fitz.
‘Oh, you’re still here.’ Mia padded over to his side, smiling as she saw the picture in his hand. ‘Jamie gave it to me on our wedding day.’
‘It’s mine.’ He croaked, unable to tear his eyes from the image.
‘What do you mean it’s yours?’ She peered over his shoulder then up into his face. ‘You took this?’ He didn’t blame her for sounding incredulous. It seemed an impossible act of serendipity, but there was no denying it. The picture was from an early collection he’d done, a study of different hands. You could tell a person’s life story by their hands his dad had always reckoned, and the collection had been an homage to him.
‘Jamie said he wanted our own hands to look like that together one day. But some things are just not meant to be, I suppose.’ She eased the frame from his hands and placed it carefully on the table, staring at it for a long moment before turning back to him.
‘Do you believe in signs?’
He shook his head. He’d always been of a practical nature. Dreams and portents were flights of fancy to be captured through his lens, but that’s where they stayed, frozen in a single moment in time. She raised her eyebrows at him