Nancy walked into the restaurant and smiled slightly as the warmth and soft laughter enveloped her, prickling her chilled cheeks. Ned's hand lingered at the small of her back as he gave the host his name. The man bowed in reply, then whirled toward the tables, and Nancy followed.
She felt very sophisticated, or at least hoped she was projecting that. Her hair was in a sleek twist, and she wore delicate gold jewelry, small earrings and a whisper-thin bracelet, a matched clutch purse. Ned wore a navy suit and a crisp white shirt, and they couldn't have been better coordinated if they had tried, which made her feel a rush of both delight and sadness.
With a day's notice, Ned had managed to reserve a table for them at this place a half-hour outside Emersonville. The tables were draped in fine white linens, the silverware rolled in thick cloth napkins, and tealights flickered at each table. The ambiance lent the restaurant a gravitas, as though it had been plucked from the heart of a bustling capital and secreted here at the edge of a small college town, as though the couples were exchanging more than just sweet nothings. A live four-piece band played unobtrusively in the corner, before a small dance floor.
Ned loved this kind of place. Nancy didn't quite feel uncomfortable here; she was more exhilarated by possibility, but also very aware that she didn't fit in. Once she was a few years older, once she was a bit more experienced, she would likely move in places like this effortlessly.
At their table, Ned pulled out her chair and moved to take her wool coat, and she heard him breathe in. She smiled.
The front of her dress was cut high across the collarbone, a silky, shimmering column of blue-green, sleeveless and nearly reaching the floor, but very modest in cut. The back of her dress, though, dipped down to reveal her shoulder blades, and from the lowest part of the point, a hand-painted gold design mimicked overlapping peacock feathers all the way down to the hem. It was a showstopper of a dress, far more sophisticated than her usual attire, and she had chosen it deliberately for tonight.
Well, once she had finally made up her mind to see if he was available and make this date. A part of her, a larger part than she wanted to admit, had wanted to walk away and never return.
Because she still hoped. She still wanted to think there was a chance she was wrong.
"Your dress is gorgeous. It really brings out your eyes."
She smiled, and this one was genuine. His tone, his dark-eyed gaze, seemed sincere. "Thank you. You look wonderful tonight, too."
He returned her smile, leaning forward slightly. "So. Tell me about your case."
Her heart skipped a beat. Ned had always been eager to hear about her cases, and she had always loved sharing that with him. That rush of adrenaline and excitement hadn't faded. "It's Dad's case, but he was delayed; he should be joining me in a few days..."
As she sketched out the few details she had learned so far, Ned listened without interrupting, keeping eye contact, nodding, his expression warm but serious. She was struck by it again, how rare this was, how rare he was. He treated her as his equal.
She had been charmed by that. She hadn't understood what it meant.
"I'll be glad to help in any way I can," he told her, once she had finished and they had placed their orders. "I'm always glad to see you, and it's wonderful that you'll be close by."
She shrugged slightly. "I hope so, although sometimes tracking down clues takes me pretty far."
He touched her hand gently. "Promise that you'll call if you find yourself in need."
Her stomach quivered slightly, and she searched his face. "I will," she murmured.
The warmth that filled her at his answering smile was mingled misery and delight. When she had made up her mind to call him, she had felt cool and resolute, but now she felt more confused and conflicted than ever.
Dinner was wonderful, and she found herself slipping. She was reluctant to ask him. What if she was wrong? What would happen? They could go back—
What was she saying? To him, they had never left, and nothing had changed. She was the one who would be returning to that previous state, where Ned wasn't quite her boyfriend, where they would share sweet kisses and mysteries, and in between he would fade back to his own life and wait for her to summon him again.
It was perfect, the best of all possible worlds, but she was who she was.
And so, after they danced to a few songs, warm and happy in each other's arms, when he suggested a stroll outside she accepted. He helped her back into her coat and they walked out into the evening chill. A border of carefully sculpted shrubbery led out to the river behind the restaurant, and a few warm yellow lights gave the small garden a romantic air.
When Ned turned to her, she could feel it, the conversation that would follow. It was late, she needed her rest and so did he, and after a soft goodnight kiss, they would part ways. Maybe she would call him. Maybe.
She stepped up to the edge of that decision, the one that could change them forever, and when he turned to her, when he caressed her cheek, she let him press one more soft, sweet kiss on her lips. His lashes fluttered slightly when she stroked his cheek too.
Then her gaze flicked from his lips up to his dark eyes. "Which agency?" she asked softly, and held his gaze, keeping her expression as neutral as she could. She didn't want to say it directly, in case she was wrong... but she wasn't.
She saw it happen. He considered denying it; he considered asking her what she was talking about. Then he closed his mouth.
Her heart cracked.
"Secret Service," he said quietly.
She nodded once, a shallow jerk of her chin. "So it's never been real," she whispered.
He hesitated again. "When I first met you, at the Raybolt estate, you were a suspect," he said. "We knew some of what he had been doing; of course Swensen wasn't the first inventor he'd swindled. But there you were, at the scene..."
She smiled, a quick, bittersweet quirk of her lips.
He touched her hand. "I didn't... I never meant to hurt you. That was never my intention."
"But you thought I was a fool."
Ned's expression was pained. "No."
She jerked away from him, her lips trembling. "You've always wanted to know everything about my cases. To keep tabs on me."
"To help you," he replied, and took a small step toward her. "To help keep you safe. You have the uncanny ability to untangle plots that agents have been working on for months—you're fearless, tenacious, dedicated."
She gasped softly as she recognized the implications. If she had been working on the fringes of government investigations... "How much have you—interfered with?"
He shook his head. "We don't," he replied. "I generally act as your bodyguard. We question the suspects you catch. We untangle the larger operations. But you're the one who gives us an in. I can't even count all the cases you've been instrumental in helping close."
She was trembling, her mind spinning, and she saw sincerity in his eyes. She wanted so badly to believe him.
"I... why didn't you tell me?"
He smiled slightly. "Because my assignment was to stay undercover. And it was perfect. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. If it had been up to me, I would have told you immediately."
"But—" She shook her head. "You could have."
He just gazed at her without replying, and she searched his eyes. Pain. That same fear she had seen when they had made it through a potentially fatal situation.
"It was all lies," she whispered, and her voice cracked on the last word. Her throat ached with tears. She sniffled, glancing down.
"I have to go."
He took a step toward her, but she backed away, sniffling again.
"No. Don't." She shook her head.
He opened his mouth and closed it again, and she turned, forcing herself not to run back to her car, forcing herself to pretend everything was all right.
Nothing would be all right again.
Emerson's incoming class had barely settled in when Ned parked outside the dean's office and emerged from the dark, inconspicuous sedan. A group of freshmen hastened past on the other side of the street, heading toward the cluster of research buildings. The last heat of summer was lingering, pooled in the asphalt, shimmering in waves, and he took a moment to wipe his face and shake out his shirt before heading inside.
He hadn't been here since—
Well. He tried not to think about it too often. His six-month stint in Hong Kong had been incredible, and he had learned a lot, so much that he had seriously considered staying. The door was still open. His language skills were nearly there, and his boss was considering making him a liaison, even if Ned stayed stateside.
His assignment had been straightforward and simple, his usual lies equally so.
It was a relief, to not have to see Nancy and remember the guilt and shame, to not use her feelings as a shield. In that week before his departure, he had tried twice to contact her and had been told both times to stop wasting her time and his own, that his presence was no longer welcome.
It had been his fault, his choice, and he had to live with it. He could have told her soon after they met. He had just…
He had thought that he wasn't good enough as himself. She knew him as the cover identity he had assumed. Without that, he didn't know what they would be, if anything. A passing distraction, maybe.
He could, he would, find someone else. No one else would be Nancy Drew, though. And being back here just served as a strong reminder—of both her and all the lies he had told. She had met the guys at Omega Chi, believing them regular college students. She had never known all the times that nearby agents, Ned included, had put their hands on their sidearms and come a fraction of a second away from pulling to protect or defend her. It was most common here, where she and Bess and George had basically been surrounded by agents and trainees at all times.
She had never questioned why her father had been so quick to agree to her visits here. She had never questioned Ned "happening" to show up where she was, or to be available to her at nearly any time. She had only to call, and he would be there.
Burt tipped his hat to Ned as Ned walked in. He wore a well-cut conservative suit that would let him pass for a businessman in any city, and his hair was newly trimmed, just like Ned's. They shook hands and exchanged grins.
"Back for a vacation, or for now?"
"Too soon to know."
Burt's grin was a glimpsed flash of teeth. "Good assignment, huh."
Ned nodded, glancing over to see the receptionist acknowledge him with a brief nod. "Very."
Stuart was behind his desk when Ned walked in, leaning back, paging through what looked like a field report. He gestured Ned to the guest chair; Ned poured himself a glass of water and sat down.
After a few minutes, Stuart sighed and closed the file. "So. How was it?"
Ned smiled. "Incredible. I loved it. The work was a nice change of pace, and I won't be upset if I end up back there."
Stuart nodded. "We'll need more people over there, so if you're willing to volunteer, that will definitely open some doors for you."
Ned nodded. "You had something for me?"
Stuart coughed and reached for his own glass before pulling out another file. "It shouldn't take too long. We need to recover some plates from a counterfeiting operation. The gang's in jail, but it looks like one got away, and he either has the plates or knows where they are. You'll be coordinating with Richards in Carbondale."
Ned nodded and accepted the file. He had worked in that area before.
Stuart cleared his throat. "How long have you been back?"
"Long enough for a shower and a change of clothes," Ned admitted. "Something I should know?"
Something about the expression on Stuart's face told him, even when Stuart gave his head a little shake. "Just keep me posted on Carbondale, and I'll let you know if I hear anything about an opening."
When Burt rose and followed Ned out, Ned chuckled and shook his head. "She's involved. Isn't she."
Burt tried an innocent look. "I'm sure I don't know."
"Uh-huh. You already packed?"
"Yeah. My car or yours?"
"Mine. I need to stop by my place and throw a few things in a bag."
Despite his display of confident ease, when Ned was alone, his stomach sank. He was ridiculously delighted at the prospect of seeing her again, but she had made no effort to contact him. He would just interview the members of the gang currently in custody and make them talk, and that would be that.
Even so, he only lasted ten minutes on the drive before he cracked open the file. Nancy's name was listed as a contact, and she had lodged complaints against two members of the gang by description a few days before their arrest. At that point, she alleged they had held her captive, and only with her friend George's help had she managed to escape and summon help.
Ned had read similar reports. Many of them, if the writer was unfamiliar with Nancy, assumed a skeptical tone, liberally using quotation marks and the word "alleged." Nancy had solved cases around Carbondale before, though, so the officers there treated her account of the case with some respect.
Ned understood. When he had first caught the case at the Raybolt estate, he hadn't believed it either. No teenager had this level of ridiculous luck, skill, and confidence.
"Who took her after me?" Ned asked quietly. No agent's name was listed in the file; maybe she hadn't requested assistance.
Burt glanced over at Ned. "No one."
Ned's eyes widened. "What?"
Burt sighed, although he was clearly enjoying filling Ned in. "She's observant as hell, but you know that. Anyone who was assigned to her and tried trailing her for more than an hour, she confronted and politely told to go to hell. Hardy tried the same cover you did. On the second date, she told him to go to hell. And he had it bad for her."
Ned realized his fist was clenched and made himself relax it. "Carson?"
"She's of age. Not much he can do."
"So the Service just..."
Burt shrugged. "We still monitor her activity, still send people in to round up anyone who got away, and Carson still keeps us in the loop. She keeps us busy. But she's completely frozen us out."
Ned couldn't help smiling. "Good for her," he murmured.
When Ned had been assigned to Nancy, she had been his de facto partner. Working with another agent was good, and when Ned had been able to bring Burt and Dave in to help work a case and serve as backup, that had been good too, but he had never quite experienced the same exhilaration with anyone else. Nancy adored solving cases. Her enthusiasm was infectious.
And he had never deluded himself into thinking that she needed him, because she didn't. He had just done everything he could to support her.
It was all lies.
It hadn't been. Not the heart of it. Not his heart.
The interviews took up the next morning, and finding the last member of the gang took another day, but Ned and Burt closed the case in record time. Burt took the last member into custody, and Ned was behind the warehouse, sifting through the refuse looking for the plates the man had hidden there, when he felt a prickling between his shoulder blades.
He turned.
She was beautiful, even more beautiful than he remembered. Her golden hair was pulled back from her face, and she wore all black, including soft black slippers that muffled her footsteps. She was dressed for covert work.
And she wore it well. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her.
"Found the plates yet?"
Ned swallowed and shook his head. "Any ideas?"
She smiled, slightly, but it didn't touch her eyes. "A few."
They worked together, close but not touching, speaking only when necessary. She found the first plate and he found the second, and under a discarded pallet, they found the rest.
Nancy sighed and brushed a stray lock from her forehead. "There," she said, satisfied. "That's done."
He nodded, opening the case he had brought along to store and transport the recovered plates. "Fancy meeting you here."
"I've been followed so much... I just felt like it was my turn."
Ned nodded slightly. He was afraid to smile, afraid to say anything. Afraid he was just hallucinating her.
"How was Hong Kong?"
His gaze whipped to her, and she was smiling a little too. "Great," he replied, after clearing his throat. "It was great. You've kept busy."
"I try to."
He closed the case and stood, and her blue-eyed gaze on him was steady.
After a beat, she took a step closer. "It hurt to think you cared about me. I hate you for that. I hate knowing that you had to be laughing at me."
Ned shook his head. "That part wasn't a lie. I did, I do, care about you."
"But you didn't tell me."
He smiled slightly. "Wouldn't you just have blown me off, like you did Hardy?"
It was her turn to shoot him a very quick surprised look. "Probably."
He studied her. One wrong move, and she would vanish.
On the other hand, what did he have to lose? He had already lost her.
"I miss you," he said. "All the time. I miss what we were together. So much of it was true."
She glanced away. "At the beginning," she said. "Dad would joke that you were going to propose. You used to mention it. And then you didn't anymore." She met his gaze again.
Ned's throat was thick. "I started very much wanting it to be true. But I also wouldn't have proposed until we had—until you knew who and what I was. I felt so guilty for keeping it from you."
She searched his face. "So that part wasn't a lie."
He blew out a breath. "That was probably the most honest I was," he admitted.
She took a step closer. "But you… I started thinking that you couldn't feel that way. You were so… you seemed so reluctant to…" She gestured, frowning.
"You were my asset," he said. "Acting on what I felt would have been… unfair to you. And it would almost have been worse if I'd said 'I'm your bodyguard and I want to keep you safe, and I also very much want to go to bed with you.' Would you have felt like you could say no?"
She crossed her arms, the defiant look on her face giving her answer before she spoke, but then she sighed. "You were the first man I ever loved," she said helplessly. "I want to say that I would have told you to go to hell, but I don't know."
Were. He had to keep his sight on that to keep from faltering. "I love you too."
She sniffled. "Dad knew. What you were."
Ned froze slightly. "Yes."
Her face crumpled, and she took a deep breath, but gave herself a little nod. "It still feels like it was yesterday," she told him, her eyes gleaming, pain in her voice. "I want to be past it, but every morning I wake up and break things off with you again."
He nodded, and took a small step toward her. "I would have been reassigned if we had slept together," he said softly. "I could have you close enough to touch but never act on it, or I could blow it all for a few nights together, and know that once I had to leave, I would probably never see you again."
"So you managed to get the worst of both."
He smiled. "Yes. You were my first assignment. I told myself over and over that I could handle it, that we were just friends…"
"But we weren't." Her eyes were still gleaming, but there was a set to her jaw that wasn't there before. "I didn't need you. I had to know that."
"You didn't," he agreed, his heart aching a little. "You never needed me. Not really. Just a handful of times—the quicksand…"
"But… working with you…"
"It's better than working alone," he filled in. "Or with anyone else."
"And I hate that," she said angrily. "I..."
"You should have known from the beginning," he said. "The choices you made, the way you were with me, wasn't what you would have wanted. I understand."
They were nearly close enough to touch. Nancy huffed out a sigh, her arms tight across her middle, and shook her head. She paced a few feet away, widening the gap, and Ned felt it like an ache.
"I'll never know what would have been between us, if it were real," she said, her voice tight.
Ned took a breath and moved toward her, reaching out to brush his fingertips over her hand. She looked up at him.
"It's real now," he told her quietly.
A tear slid down her cheek. "Do you mean it?" she whispered, her tone almost pleading. "You weren't just pretending? Don't, please don't lie to save my feelings, I—"
In answer he put his arms around her and drew her close, then leaned down, taking his time, his heart pounding. Giving her the time to push him away.
And her answer was to meet him halfway, in a kiss that began sweet and tender, and ended with both of them gasping for breath.
With her consent, he told her everything, believing it would be easier to start again with no secrets between them. After, once she was back in her own rented room in Carbondale, she couldn't stop crying.
Emerson wasn't a lie, but it was close. Part of the college housed and educated students pursuing a variety of careers, but the other part was dedicated to agents from various government organizations, domestic and foreign intelligence, spies, for training and education and debriefings. Ned had been at Emerson so long because he had gone from a student to a graduate to a guest lecturer, when time permitted.
The entire Omega Chi membership was spies and agents. Burt and Dave were agents and had been assigned to George and Bess, just as Ned had been to Nancy.
Those "summer camps" he often counseled during were training exercises.
And Ned had realized he was in love with her… so, so long ago. He had denied it to himself, had tried to distance himself, had tried to rationalize keeping the secret, but it had grown more and more painful. He had waited for her to realize it, because the longer she didn't, the more time they would have together.
Then his dark-eyed gaze had met hers across the patio table. Their dinner had been riverside, their plates just cleared away, the server soon to return with coffee. The entire meal had been one bombshell after another, as he dismantled her life over the past few years, and she felt internally bruised, somehow.
"Carson knew within the first month," he said, and her heart broke. "Once he knew, he wanted me to stay on. He implied it was a way for him to know you would be safer when he couldn't be with you."
That part hurt the most. It all hurt, but her father had just let it happen. Had encouraged it. His approval of Ned had influenced her own.
"After the first year, he and my direct supervisor had a conversation," Ned said, glancing away. "I was told that he expected me to propose within the following year."
Nancy blinked, sending another pair of tears down her cheeks. "But you refused?"
He shrugged. "I was stuck. I wouldn't do it if you didn't know who I really was, and I was under orders to maintain my cover. I guess it wasn't an ultimatum, but it did make me think he'd—Carson—had put an expiration date on my assignment. I started wondering if he wanted someone more experienced with you. Since you were hurt so many times while I was with you."
Nancy scoffed. "Half of the time those weren't preventable," she told him. Her mouth was moving, she was somehow sounding normal, even as she struggled to process the shock and pain.
"That didn't make me feel any better."
Ned was so close to who he had been that she started to believe him, and hated herself for her suspicion and for her eagerness to accept everything all over again. After so many lies…
So many lies that had been so close to the truth that they were indistinguishable.
One day, she thought, wiping her eyes for the hundredth time, there would be no more unpleasant surprises, nothing else to unlearn for a while. But unlearning Ned meant a horrible shift in her perceptions and belief in herself. Her love for him had felt simple and perfect and inevitable. Some part of her had come in alignment with him, some sympathetic vibration, some part of their minds. That sympathy wasn't something she could change or revoke. It was as though she had freely, shyly handed him a key to the very heart of her, and it was his forever. Whether he wanted it to be or not.
He seemed to be honorable, this man who spent six months half a world away and appeared not as a haggard shell of himself, destroyed by losing her, but a confident, handsome, quietly skilled agent. This man who had admitted a long standing affection for her, who had shown it in his embraces, his caresses, his kisses… and who had, were she to believe him, maintained a painful lie for the sake of remaining near her.
She had never considered herself particularly given to the offense of pride until he had utterly punctured hers. The only way she could get over it would be proving to both of them that she was better now, less fallible, less in need of protection—
At their next meeting—she dared not call it a date—Ned smiled and studied her face. "You're brilliant," he said, his tone hushed, and his eyes alight.
Nancy felt a hot flush rise in her cheeks. "Hardly."
He propped his chin on his hand. "I was trained to gain your confidence," he told her. "I knew what to do and how to make you feel so you would trust me, and it was given to me as practice, to demonstrate my ability. And yet, I didn't have to feign my respect for you, my fondness for you. You didn't figure it out because we left so little trace. I hope you understand that. It was no more a test of my acting ability than it was a test of your deductive skills."
He had been hiding in plain sight, and he had committed no crime. Of course her instincts had been true about him.
Of course he would want her to believe that.
Of course she wanted to believe that.
She reached for her glass. "So what happens now?"
Their gazes met. "What do you want to happen?" he replied, his voice quiet and deep.
Those kisses, the night she had met him again. That was what she wanted. Ned almost trembling at the strain of holding himself back, gazing at her without disguising the hunger in his dark eyes. She had very nearly…
Well. If he had asked, she would have, at the least, considered whatever he proposed. His attention, especially now that the wound wasn't quite so tender, was exhilarating.
He loved her. He had said it multiple times, with no expectation of anything. He had told the truth, despite knowing it might make her hate him.
The next morning, she found a note slipped under her door.
Another assignment—I hate to leave, but this shouldn't take long.
Come to the homecoming dance with me. I would be honored to escort you.
Yours,
Ned
She read it over so many times. To everyone else, Ned had been overseas for six months, and maybe their parting had been tumultuous, but she could walk back into their relationship knowing that from the outside, very little might be different. He wouldn't be her assigned protection, but then… maybe he could invite her along on cases. Since she was an asset. Since she was remarkable.
Maybe.
--
The night of the homecoming dance was cool, so she put on a heavy coat before meeting Ned in front of the Omega house. The room he had kept there during his previous visits had been just for show, and all the rooms were occupied by other agents now. The agents staying there, the ones she remembered, had been regaling her with stories about capturing suspects during and after her cases, and their accounts agreed with Ned. They seemed to adore her, admire her; that hadn't changed. They didn't seem to judge her for buying into the cover. Maybe… maybe they thought she had been in on it.
That was a comforting thought.
She realized again that it didn't matter. She was still struggling to overcome the wound to her pride, when she, and by extension Ned, were the only people who cared.
Her father… she would have to talk this over with him, once he was back from his trip, but she just hadn't found the right time. Sometimes she was incoherent with rage, because he had known; sometimes she rationalized it as her father playing matchmaker, recognizing what was between them and doing what he could to keep them together.
She had seen Ned earlier that day, but seeing him here and now, her heart skipped a beat again. He handed her a bouquet of a dozen blood-red roses and leaned down to kiss her; his lips lingered on her cheek, and she reached up to stroke the line of his jaw, to angle so that their lips met. Their kiss was too brief, but all night would have been too brief for her; when he pulled back, she saw the same awakened need in his gaze.
Then he offered her his arm.
"You look very handsome tonight," she told him. He had always cut a fine figure in a suit, but the formality of black on white, the perfectly knotted tie, the crisp lines emphasized his broad shoulders and muscular build, and would have made him appear even more handsome, if that were possible.
"And I have no doubt that whatever is under that coat is enchanting," he told her, with a little sparkle in his eye.
She didn't want to blush, but she still managed it. "How do you feel when you're here?"
He considered for a few seconds. "Happy. I've always loved this campus and what I've done here. Being here with you always made it even more special. Some of tonight's attendees will be alumni who were here for the game, and others will be..."
Agents, she understood him to mean. "Old friends of yours."
He smiled and nodded slightly.
She paused. It was a question she'd had, that she hadn't found time to mention. "Your parents," she said.
"They know. I talked over my decision to join with them." He glanced over at her. "But they didn't know about my assignment. As far as they understood it, we met and gravitated to each other organically. Their affection for you is genuine."
That damned blush snuck back. "They are fond of me?"
He chuckled. "Did you doubt it?"
She sighed and glanced at her gloved hands. "I found myself doubting everything," she said quietly. "I think that everyone around me must find me unbelievably stupid, because that's how I see myself."
He stopped and touched her chin, tilting her head up, locking his gaze to hers. He opened and closed his mouth, then shook his head. "If I knew what to say, I would tell you," he said. "I've tried in every way I know, and until you forgive yourself, I don't think you'll be able to hear it." His dark eyes were tender.
At the dance, Ned helped her out of her coat, and she raised her eyes to see his reaction to her dress. The halter-necked dress had a wrapped bodice that narrowed to her waist, then flared into a full ball skirt with a shimmering overlay. The fabric was a shade between turquoise and ice blue; it suited her coloring very well, according to the salesperson, and Nancy had agreed. It felt a bit more sophisticated than the usual, more conservative gowns she selected.
With him, especially now, she wanted to stand out. She wanted to look like someone worthy of his arm around her, the warmth and desire in his smoldering gaze. And a part of her wanted her outfit to be what people remembered, not her—because she wanted so, so badly to rewrite what they had been.
She was gratified to see Ned looking at her like he had no intention of anything so sedate as a dance. He let her see it and stifled it, reaching for her hand.
Several couples greeted them warmly, asking Ned how "his trip" had been, and she was able to see it in action, the way they practiced interacting with each other. After all, some of the other dance attendees apparently had no idea of the dual nature of their college and the agents' cover identities needed to stay intact.
They were flawless. She only recognized the subtle signs because she knew to look for them now: a slight curve to a lip, the flicker of an eyebrow, faint emphasis on another syllable. The words they spoke weren't coded, or not in any obvious way. They were just friends asking about a trip.
A tension she had been holding in her shoulders released, and she took an easier breath.
Ned didn't release her for the night. No one cut in or asked for a dance. A few times they separated, to visit the restrooms, to peruse the offered refreshments, and everyone she recognized greeted her easily. It was as though there had been no break.
She had lived with this knowledge for more than six months now. She had grieved this loss of self, but the world kept turning. She had solved cases in Ned's absence, while doing her best to ignore the aching weight of it.
She was human. And no one was judging her as stringently as she judged herself.
They reunited on the dance floor, and the next song was soft, slow and romantic. Ned pulled her close, and her heart skipped a beat as it always had. She nestled against him, savoring his warmth, the thrill that shivered up her spine with each brush of his fingers. Half her back was bare, and he had found a dozen excuses to touch the exposed skin.
"I've always known this was where you belonged."
She pulled back slightly to gaze up at him, asking with a smile, "In your arms?"
"That too, but here at Emerson. I don't know if you feel the same way, but you seem to fit here. Probably because you're one of us, in all the ways that matter."
She smiled, her heart warmed. "It means a lot to hear you say it."
Ned laughed, and she felt his chest rumble with it. "I finally found the words," he said, relieved. "Being the most irresistible, most brilliant woman I've ever met wasn't it. Telling you that you're a natural agent?"
She chuckled. "I… it was hard after my mother died, and I became the hostess. I had to be flawless. I had to be an adult when I didn't understand what that meant. Being good at figuring out puzzles and solving cases made my father so proud of me. It became…"
"Your identity," he finished softly, as they swayed together.
"And then it wasn't true anymore."
"Because you're not some computational machine. You're a human being with great intuition and instincts. And I know that because some part of you," he said, his voice low, his gaze so intent on hers that her heart was pounding, "realized that I was no threat to you, and you were right. You haven't lost anything. You're everything you ever were, and more."
No one else existed around them; no one could. His lips claimed hers in a long kiss that made her knees weak. Tears of relief stung in her throat.
His lips brushed her earlobe and she very nearly moaned, amazed at her response to him, amazed at how she loved it. Her fingertips drifted over the nape of his neck and he nuzzled against the soft skin just past her jaw.
She breathed his name and he groaned quietly, as the song stopped, as the tension broke around them. She knew that she was entirely defenseless as he moved back to look into her eyes. She had always hated hiding it from him.
They gazed at each other, speechless, and seeing that they felt the same way—she could hardly breathe.
"My apartment," he exhaled. "I—Once the dance is over, it's your choice. Go back to the Omega house, or come home with me. Nothing between us will change if you decide not to come."
But, she knew, searching his dark-eyed gaze, that if she did go home with him... everything would.
When she didn't suggest they leave before the dance was over, Ned thought he had his answer. Maybe she was uncertain; maybe she was scandalized, embarrassed, or not yet sure of him. But when he drew her close for another slow song, when he kissed her, nuzzled against her, caressed her, more boldly than he had ever dared before, she turned pliant and swayed, whispering his name with such breathless need in her voice that… whatever her internal struggle was, it didn't seem to be over that.
The band had played the last song and was packing up, the last couples saying their farewells or making plans to continue the evening elsewhere, when Nancy moved away from everyone else, and he followed.
"If I…" She made a vague gesture, which he interpreted as 'take you up on your offer,' "I need to pick up my belongings from the Omega house…"
He smiled and touched her cheek, considering telling her that she didn't, but she didn't like to make a spectacle of herself and emerging from his apartment in morning sunshine clad in that dress would invite speculation. "We can make a stop."
She seemed lost in thought for the brief drive to Omega, which was mostly dark, but the agents there kept their own hours. Her silence unnerved him a bit, and she touched his hand once they pulled to a stop.
"I'll change. Can you give me fifteen minutes?"
He nodded and opened his door, coming around to escort her up the front walk. Instead of parting there, he let himself in, nodded to the agent positioned near the alcove, and smiled at Nancy before she vanished toward her room.
A part of him, the part that was keeping track of how long it had been, wanted to follow her to her room, lock the door, and seduce her right there. But that hadn't been their agreement, and he wasn't going to do anything that might upset her.
Instead he went to the kitchen and made himself a cup of coffee, which wasn't great but wasn't terrible. Dave came in soon after, and they talked shop a few minutes, until Ned glanced away.
"So she'll be at your place tonight."
Ned smiled and finished his coffee.
Dave smiled too, slapping Ned on the upper arm. "It's good that you're back. She seemed… brittle, while you were gone."
"Angry," Ned agreed.
Dave hesitated. "She didn't tell Bess."
Ned's eyes widened briefly. "Did you?"
Dave held up his hands, palms out. "Wasn't my place to say. Bess asked about you a few times. She said it was as though you two had a fight and Nancy just didn't want to talk about it, or you. But she had never seen Nancy the way she was while you were gone."
It had all been avoidable. Ned had wanted to tell her so long ago. So much hurt that he could have saved her.
She deserved the world. She deserved to take her time trusting him, and he had thrown her this gauntlet.
When she returned, her expression thoughtful, she wore a soft sweater in burnt orange and dark pants. Her hair was down, her face clear of the subtle makeup she had worn, and she glowed.
Ned immediately took her suitcase, but didn't head for his car. "We don't have to go."
She searched his face. "Can we talk, in your car?"
She understood that wherever they were in the house, they weren't alone. He nodded.
His car was cold, but at least they were sheltered from the wind. The stars were glittering and cold overhead.
She cleared her throat. "I miss you," she said. "And… I imagine us together. Helping you on cases. Working on my own whenever your assignment can't include me. I don't know how feasible that is."
"An unpaid consultant."
She nodded. "I guess whatever I was before, but aware of it this time."
His lips quirked up briefly. "We can most certainly do that."
She smiled. "And I'd have the perfect cover. You're on a business trip, I'm just naturally curious…"
He reached over and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "A naturally curious newlywed?"
She searched his gaze. From the light spilling in thanks to the nearby lamppost, he thought she was blushing. "Am I the biggest fool," she murmured. "Because I want you. By my side, in my life. Would it be your penance to me, or ours to each other? The one lie I didn't catch? The one mystery I failed to solve?"
He stroked her cheek. "I'll promise you this," he said. "I'll never ask or expect you to be perfect or flawless. But I want to be the mystery you never solve. I want you to wake up every morning and look at me the way you do another clue."
She chuckled, though her eyes were shining. "Do you really want to be with me?"
"In every sense."
She breathed out, and a tear streaked down her cheek. "If I go home with you… can I tell you to stop? Or is it just assumed…"
His jaw clenched. "It's never assumed," he told her. "If you're uncertain, then we will stop. At any point."
She nodded and glanced away. She was holding herself tightly.
"Has someone else not?"
She swallowed. "If your home is private, I can discuss it with you there."
Ned was suffused with rage on her behalf; even through the heat of it, he realized she had to be quite cold. Murmuring an apology, he started his car, passing her a heavy blanket he kept for emergencies before pulling away from the curb and heading into the starlit night.
His apartment was modest, with easy access both to campus and Omega Chi, and the transportation hubs of nearby Emersonville. The apartment building was five floors, twenty-five apartments total, and each was occupied by an agent, so security was tight. Ned used separate keys to enter the front door, the foyer, and the lobby, and signed himself and Nancy in at the front desk. Nancy appeared a bit anxious, likely surprised that he was so nonchalant about what, to her, could be a decision that tarnished her reputation.
To him, they were together, finally fully understanding what that meant, and nothing else mattered. Nothing that happened after this point would become public knowledge unless they wanted it to be.
He caught himself wondering if it, this incident that had made her wonder if "no" was still allowed, had been before they had met, or after—or worse, while he had been in Hong Kong, when she had been so badly hurt that she had refused all offers of protection. Any possibility was bad.
His palm was gentle at the small of her back as he guided her into his apartment, her suitcase in his other hand. The space was furnished in staple pieces—armchair and loveseat and coffee table, solid lamps. He considered it all comfortable, but nothing stood out. Nothing had been new or expensive, because he spent so little time here. All that marked this with his individual taste was a few framed pieces, one a souvenir from Hong Kong, one a quick charcoal portrait of Nancy that a street artist had drawn in New York City. For the longest time he had gazed at that portrait, the sparkle in her gaze, and comforted and tortured himself with the memory that she had been gazing at him at the time.
He adjusted the thermostat, changed his clothes, offered her something to drink. She seemed tranquil, but tense, as though she were waiting for something to break the tension or warn her.
"So what happened," he asked, his tone gentle.
Nancy sat down at the edge of the loveseat, the glass he had handed her clasped in both her hands, and looked down into it. "When I was ten," she said, her voice steady, "I hosted my first dinner party. When I..." She smiled, a self-deprecating look. "When I look back, I realize that I still had tremendous help, but at the time I felt like I had really achieved something. I wore a floral gown."
Ned's stomach tightened.
"A... powerful man attended, with a young escort. After dinner was served, it was time for dessert. I was in the kitchen, by myself, and he followed me there. Told me how very grown up I looked. Stepped very close to me." She closed her eyes.
His fist clenched.
Nancy's jaw tightened, and then she let out a long breath. "That was the first time."
"Did you tell your father?"
"The next day. I never saw him again. I didn't... I guess I didn't have to say it, that Dad could tell." She sighed.
"The first time."
She put the glass down on the coffee table, slowly, deliberately placing it on one of the coasters, just-so. "I got better at it," she explained. "Figuring out who would be more likely to try something. But my cases... I'm around people who..." She shrugged.
He waited until she glanced up at his face again. "The first time," he repeated softly.
"It was never enough to... to count, if I told anyone. And I knew that. It never went far enough to be undeniable. Suggestions and caresses, attempts to steal kisses, that could be dismissed as jokes, misunderstandings, mistakes. But that's been my only experience." She was blushing again, and her eyes were faintly miserable. "I've never felt that... ping, from you or from the few other guys my own age I have ever intentionally dated. But because that was the only way it's ever been, I didn't know if that was the way it would always be."
He could see her in his mind's eye, ten and glowing with pride at her success, at being the perfect hostess for her father, and those innocent blue eyes going wide and scared as a despicable man in a nice suit loomed over her. She had been taught that this was just the way things were; she could dream of better for herself, but was in no way guaranteed to find it.
Ned had to swallow a few times before he could force words through his tight throat. "It should never be that way," he replied. "Not for anyone. I'm sure—I know there are men who go through life doing exactly as you describe. I never have, and I hate that anyone has treated you so poorly."
Her eyes were so, so blue, so wide. "I would believe you no matter what," she said quietly. "Because you're already here." She touched her chest, over her heart, then sighed and shook her head. "As unbelievably trite as that sounds. When you kiss me I would do whatever you ask. And I… tonight, can we, if we go to bed… can we not…"
He waited, watching her.
"Complete the act," she finally settled on. "You being inside me."
He relaxed and nodded.
She slumped slightly, gazing at him in quiet disbelief, her eyes flooding.
"You thought it was all or nothing."
"I thought you might see it that way."
Ned leaned forward. Now that he understood more about what she wanted, he desperately wanted to work toward it. "But you're interested in what leads up to it."
She nodded.
"No penetration whatsoever?"
She flinched.
"I just want to be sure. That's all. I want to be clear about what you want."
She breathed out. "I don't like the feel of anything inside me," she said. "Or I haven't, anyway. Maybe it will be different with you."
Ned's eyebrows rose slightly. "Have you been with generously endowed partners?"
Nancy impatiently dashed tears from her eyes. "No, no, not at all. When I explore my body. And… well, a rather fascinating object Bess described at a slumber party. I tracked one down." She shrugged. "I didn't enjoy it."
Ned cleared his throat. "When you're a bit more relaxed, I would love to redo this conversation with far fewer euphemisms," he managed to reply. "Possibly with reenactments. But, for tonight, no penetration. I can definitely work with that."
She smiled. "If you'll give me a moment."
While she prepared for bed, Ned did the same, as much as he was able while consumed with raging desire for her. He had just checked the deadbolt and security chain when she opened his bedroom door and peeked out.
His bed was plain, a quilt over a duvet, matching the minimal decor in his bedroom. His only personal touch was the framed photo of Nancy herself.
She was here, in person, wrapped in a quilted blue robe that was definitely more utilitarian than titillating. She cleared her throat, and while her face was glowing, he could also tell that she was a little tense. Her movements were a bit more stiff than usual.
"I love you," he murmured, and was gratified to see her melt a little.
"I love you too," she replied, blushing. Her gaze was locked to his face anyway, and when he crossed to her, she put her arms around him immediately, holding him tight. He murmured quietly in encouragement when she drew her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, and then he caught her in a long, deep kiss.
He didn't have to force himself to keep things slow with her; he followed her lead, meeting her kisses, matching her caresses. He was gratified when she shivered in delight or nipped at him, and when she whimpered as he nipped at her in return.
His fingertips brushed the tied sash of her robe and he slowed their kiss, making his movements deliberate as he gave the fabric a gentle tug. She made a faint noise and swayed a little, her lashes fluttering up as she grinned.
"Mmm?"
She nodded once, tentatively, then again with more conviction, reaching for the sash. She brought her chin up, and he saw anxiety in the faint furrowing of her brow, the way her gaze searched his.
She wore pretty underwear, sensible and opaque, satin with a hint of lace trim. He smiled, very tempted to reach over and draw her to him, to let his fingertips drift up her back so he could unfasten her bra.
"Beautiful."
She angled her body slightly, at once posing and making some slight attempt at modesty. "Your turn."
Ned pulled his shirt over his head and pushed off his flannel pants, leaving him in his underwear. She was gazing at him, studying him with interest, while her eyes did occasionally rise to his again.
"More?"
She breathed in, then sighed. "I should have known," she sighed, and when he saw the little pout on her lips, he knew she was teasing. "Even a star quarterback wouldn't have that incredible body."
Ned chuckled and stepped toward her. "If—"
She shook her head and met him halfway, reaching up to hold him, and he leaned down to catch her in another long, deep kiss. The feel of so much of her bare skin against his, the way she clung to him...
He picked her up and carried her the few remaining feet to the bed, then lowered her onto it, leaving space between them as he kissed her again. She met his kiss eagerly, her fingers buried in his hair, her other arm draped over his back.
"Are you okay with taking more off?" He kept his tone light.
She blinked a few times, then pushed herself up a little and unfastened her bra. His breath caught as she stripped it off. Her underwear followed.
He met her gaze and she smiled. "Too much?"
He shook his head. "This is absolutely fine."
She was sitting up, and she reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. She was a little flushed from their kisses, but she was still glowing. "I don't know... how this normally goes. Are we to be solemn?"
He shook his head, deliberately slowly. "We can have as much fun as we want."
"Is it usually fun?"
"If we're doing it right."
She held his gaze, then smiled a little. "I'm overthinking it."
He nodded. "Do you want me to keep my underwear on?"
She considered. "For now," she said. "If that's all right."
He moved toward her, and she slid her arm around him, shivering slightly as she met his kiss. "It's ours," he told her, whispering into her ear. "What we do tonight is ours, between us, and it's nothing I would force on you or cajole you into. But, since you're naked..."
He murmured what he wanted to try with her, then moved back to see her expression. She didn't look shocked or horrified; her color was up, but it already had been, and she was gazing at him with interest.
"Maybe?"
She nodded eagerly. "Yes, please."
He flashed a grin. "This should be fun," he told her, guiding her to lie down again. "And if it isn't, stop me."
"Have you done this before?"
He nodded. "Do you want a complete summary? Of my history, in that regard?"
She paused, then shook her head, parting her legs and bringing her knees up. He moved over her, nuzzling at her ear, her neck, and feeling her shiver under him. Then she gasped, as though drawing a breath to say something, but didn't.
"Hmm?" He brought a hand up and gently cupped her breast, and she moaned softly, arching when his thumb brushed over her nipple. The puckered tip was firm under his caress.
"In... when you left..."
"I went on one date. Nothing came of it."
"And before..." She gasped sharply when he pulled her other nipple between his lips and suckled.
He waited until she was restless under him, until he had thoroughly suckled and teased both her nipples, to pull back. Her color was even higher now, and she was shivering.
"Since you and I began dating, no. No one."
She nodded once. Her eyes were luminous. "That's a long time to go without."
Ned chuckled, then caressed her breast just to see her delighted reaction again. "And you?" he said, with a smile. "How long?"
"I told you, no one."
"Which isn't the same as no release."
She laughed. "True," she murmured, then glanced at his underwear.
"Changed your mind?"
"Thinking about it."
He nodded. "When you found your release, did you think of me?" he asked, his voice quiet and a little husky.
She paused, which was its own answer, then nodded once and angled her hips. "When we were together, before," she murmured, then moaned as he traced the seam between her thighs. "So many times. When you were gone…"
He shook his head at the pain in her eyes. "I'm so sorry."
When he leaned over her, still gently caressing her, and kissed her, she returned it fiercely.
Then his fingertip brushed over the tip of her clit.
She cried out, the sound mostly muffled by their kiss, and her fingers closed into a fist, leaving the stinging trail of her fingernails on his shoulder blade. When he broke the kiss to nuzzle and stroke his way down, tracing the curves of her with his lips and his tongue, she panted, her legs spread wide.
Soon, he would have to—well, he would ask. Just the thought of her bringing herself to orgasm while he watched was enough to make him incredibly turned on.
She sucked in a sharp breath when he parted her lips, and she couldn't seem to stop moving; she squirmed her hips, shifted her weight, combed her fingers through his hair. She wasn't showing any sign of discomfort, though, just agonizing anticipation.
"Still interested?"
"Yes, God, please."
Ned had been with a few women who had been inexperienced, while he himself was inexperienced, and he had imagined that she would be somewhat like they had been: tentative, embarrassed, skittish. He had wondered at the time how much of it had been a performance, maybe not so much for him as for the girls themselves, but he had still asked permission whenever he had sensed any hesitation. Sometimes that permission had been whispered, or limited to a nod; sometimes it had been cried out, almost screamed.
Nancy... didn't seem tentative or embarrassed, but she did seem overwhelmed at all the sensations as he stroked her, fondled her, teased her. He drew it out until she was begging, her hips rocking, and when he, achingly slowly, kissed a path from her belly button to the curls at the top of her mound, then lower—
He sucked her clit into his mouth and teased it with his tongue, his teeth, with suckling that began gently and soon became urgent and hard. Her whimpering became pleading sobs, and when she released her grip on his hair, he glanced up to see her rapidly, roughly fondling her breasts.
His cock ached at the sight.
Then he dragged his chin over her clit and she sucked in a scream, arching her back.
After the third stroke she buried her face in his pillow and sobbed, and he rewarded her with another, another, until her hips were quivering. Her sobs became low pleading groans, and when she tensed, then slumped to the bed, Ned pulled back.
She had to be ridiculously wet now. Under other circumstances, he would have lowered himself to her, folded her legs around him, and discovered it for himself.
Instead, he kissed her belly button, and she whimpered. He made his way lazily back up, caressing and stroking her without working to excite her again, and when he nuzzled against her neck, she wrapped her arms around him.
"That was incredible," she moaned.
He couldn't help grinning. "The best you've had?"
She paused, considering, and Ned laughed. "I think so," she said slowly.
"But you had to think about it."
"You're fascinated by it," she accused him, with a chuckle.
"I am."
She stroked her palm down his back, then hooked her thumb in the elastic of his underwear.
"Take these off. If you don't mind."
Before she had even finished, he was naked. She laughed, delighted, and when he stretched out beside her, she reached over to caress his cheek. Her stroke was tentative at first, at the newness of it. Her eyes were so tender.
And he ached with love for her.
"If I were to touch... your member, right now. Would you be overcome with a lust so consuming that you would throw all caution to the wind and ravish me?"
Ned blinked. "Where on earth did that come from?" he asked slowly.
Nancy brushed a sweat-damped lock of hair from her flushed cheek. "Bess sometimes reads aloud from the more lurid portions of the novels she brings on my cases."
"'Lurid' would definitely describe that." He chuckled. "No. Were you to touch me, I would give you guidance if you asked for it, but you've told me what you want and what you don't. The only thing that could put 'ravishing' back on the table is your request for it."
She laughed. "That sounds so melodramatic, doesn't it?"
"Which, I would imagine, fits in with the books."
She nodded, then trailed her fingertips down his chest in a teasing series of loops and swirls, each ending in another sweep down toward his hips. He didn't look the way she had imagined, but she presumed that the few illustrations she had come across in some books of dubious credibility hadn't done much to prepare her.
"And that is truly supposed to fit inside me."
Ned laughed then. "Yes. When, or if, whichever—your being wet will help a lot."
She nodded slowly. He was warm, and while his flesh seemed to be looser than she expected there, he was also very firm. She rubbed her palm slowly down and back up, then glanced up into his face.
His jaw was set. Otherwise, she wouldn't have known he was under any kind of strain.
"Am I expected to do, what you did...?"
"To return the favor? If you want, you can. But I don't necessarily expect it."
She brushed her thumb over the tip of his erection and felt wetness on her skin.
Ned made a very quiet growl in his throat.
She released a soft groan. "I'm doing something wrong," she said, pulling back.
He reached out, not quite whipping toward her, but acting as though he wanted to—and grabbed her wrist, gently. "You aren't. I can direct you, I can show you... but I'm also extremely aroused right now."
"You want your own release."
"Very much."
"Inside me."
"Only once you're ready. I will happily settle for having it with you touching me, or you kissing me, or in the bathroom—alone—if the prospect disturbs you."
She flexed her wrist, and Ned released it, apparently convinced she wasn't about to abandon him. "Given what I've asked, is there a way you would prefer that—wouldn't be inside?"
He paused for a beat, then nodded. "If you could come astride me and rub yourself against me, trust me, it wouldn't take long."
"And you wouldn't be inside."
"No. As you can tell, you would definitely know if I, if we, did that. It would be intentional." He paused, studying her. "Do you want me to show you?"
A few seconds after her eager nod, he swung her on top of him, then pushed her knees apart, and she gasped as the wet, tender flesh between her legs came in contact with his erection. Ned groaned, and she felt his fingers flex on her outer thighs.
"Now move," he murmured, and grasped her hips to show her.
In this, she was a quick study; she was especially delighted to find that, when she angled her hips differently, her clit dragged over his firm cock, and he seemed to like it too. She ground herself against him, pressing hard, delighted to find that it was incredible and that, as he had told her, he wasn't inside her. And it didn't hurt.
All too quickly, he shuddered and gasped, and she reluctantly put some space between them, unsure about what she should do. She felt very exposed, but she was buzzing at all the new sensation, how glorious it had been to feel what he was doing and being unable to predict it. Rubbing against him—oh, she could very definitely imagine finding her release by grinding against his member, as she had been. Leaving him warm and slick with her own arousal. Making both of them ready.
She turned her gaze to his face again, to see him gazing steadily back at her.
"I love you."
She relaxed, smiling. "And I love you," she murmured. She moved to swing off him, but he urged her back down, and she nestled against him.
"Thank you."
He chuckled, his fingertips trailing idly over her sweat-damp skin. "I should be thanking you."
She closed her eyes. She didn't think she had badly miscalculated about him. She didn't think she had made the wrong choice. Given everything she knew, she hadn't.
Time would tell. Until it did, she would hold to her belief in him.
She sighed. "Now that we've been naked with each other—"
"That's a very polite euphemism for it."
She trailed her fingertips down his side, ticklish-light. "When you found your release, did you think of me?"
He released a sound that wasn't quite a sigh. "I have," he admitted.
"You sound disappointed in yourself."
"When we first met, I absolutely didn't," he replied. "But I fell for you, and after that, well, it was hard not to... think of you."
She smiled briefly. "And how many nights until I need to be willing to go further," she murmured, feeling a quivering weariness.
"Mmm. Did you think there was some part of what happened that I didn't enjoy?"
"You enjoyed putting your mouth on me?"
"Didn't you?"
"Yes..."
"That was what I wanted. What you just did with me, I definitely enjoyed. There isn't just one way to find pleasure with each other."
She sighed as he brushed her hair from her cheek. "I just feel overwhelmed when I think about it. And you. You're very overwhelming."
He chuckled. "And you are very curious," he pointed out. "If anyone can figure it out, I feel like you can. When you put your mind to it."
She moved over him, meeting his gaze, and the tenderness in his expression made her melt. Slowly she moved down, and the kiss they shared was sweet. A shiver went down her spine as he wrapped his arms around her.
"Be mine," she murmured into his ear. "Forever."
He stroked her back. "I never stopped."