followed by a pain that was intimately familiar to him. The pain of a parent losing a child.
The grief had long since blunted so he didn’t know why the sympathy in her eyes seemed to conjure it up again, and sharper than it had been in years.
He had to look away, his chest tight. This was crazy. Ella’s death had been hard, but he’d gone through the darkness that had fallen around him after she’d died and come out the other side. So why should telling Astrid bring it all back? And why should he feel it so acutely?
A silence fell and he waited for her to tell him how sorry she was. Tell him she didn’t know what to say. How she couldn’t imagine how dreadful it was for him, all the trite bullshit that people trotted out when they were confronted by something they didn’t want to face themselves. Before they changed the subject so they didn’t have to talk about it.
But she didn’t speak. Instead, she put out her hand and covered his where it rested on the table beside his mug. An instinctive, very human gesture of comfort. Her touch was warm, and there was a firm pressure to it, and he could feel the sensation of it flow up his arm and center itself in his chest.
No one had held him after Ella had died. No one had put their arms around him and given him a hug. No one had even touched him. And not one single solitary person had told him it would be okay.
So how strange that it should be a woman he’d known only a couple of days, with very real traumas of her own, who gave him the first significant, meaningful comfort he’d had in years. No platitudes. No trite phrases. Only a warm hand and a light pressure, an offer of strength, of wordless understanding.
When she spoke, it was soft and she didn’t remove her hand. “Oh, Damon. I’m so sorry.”
He looked at her at last. Her face was pale, but her gaze didn’t waver. She wasn’t afraid of his pain or his grief, that was clear, and was offering what she could: sympathy and comfort.
Deep inside him, so far down he was barely conscious of it, something jolted like he’d been given an electric shock.
“This isn’t a quid pro quo,” he said, ignoring the sensation. “I didn’t tell you to force you into giving me something you don’t want to give.”
“Then why did you tell me?” The question was soft and genuine.
Damon met her misty-gray eyes. “Because Ella is my secret. And carrying her alone is hard.”
Astrid’s grip on his hand tightened and a small silence fell. Then she said, “I find it difficult to trust people. Especially men. And most especially men who seem to be too good to be true.”
“Me?”
“Of course you.”
Well, he wasn’t totally evil, but he wasn’t exactly a great bet either. “Is there alcohol in that tea? Or are you drunk on tannin?”
She smiled, her fingers warm against his. “Come on, surely you know how great you are? You’re freakishly good-looking. You’re very calm and very steady. You know how to tackle my son and you treat him with respect. You’re ridiculously charming… Have I missed anything?”
“You missed that I’m excellent in bed,” he added flippantly, because while he might be some of those things, that didn’t make him a saint. And he had plenty of flaws.
“Oh, I hadn’t forgotten.” Silver glittered in her eyes.
Energy gathered in the space between them, every particle in the air charging with a hot, electric tension. The memory of their encounter in the library seemed to fill the room, making Damon’s breath catch. His jeans were abruptly too tight, the blood in his veins pumping hard and strong.
Dammit, why had he mentioned sex? A stupid thing to do, especially when their chemistry was still tinder-dry and responding to any spark.
He turned his hand over beneath hers, giving her fingers a quick squeeze before withdrawing it. Probably best if they didn’t touch for now.
She flushed and quickly grabbed her mug. “Anyway, where was I?”
“Me being too good to be true, I think.”
Astrid leaned back in her chair, holding the mug. “Aiden was like that at first. He was a guy I met in Portland at a café where I was working. He was handsome. Friendly and charming. He was easy to talk to and he gave me lots of tips.” She let out a breath, the expression on