saw relief in his eyes. He didn’t want to get into the mess they’d made in the past any more than she did.
Tonight it was easier to think of him as a sexy Portuguese guy she’d met while on a fun Azores vacation. Kind of like the first time they’d met. Why didn’t she have any more sense now? Shouldn’t she be the sadder but wiser girl at this point?
But Julia mentally put the brakes on that line of thinking. She might not be any wiser, but tonight would sure make her happier, as evidenced by Frank’s clever fingers delicately undoing her buttons.
Her gaze locked with his as he finished opening her blouse and pulled it open. She sat quietly as he pushed it off her shoulders. No hurrying for them tonight.
Frank stroked her cheek and slid his fingers into her hair, gently bringing her mouth to his. She closed her eyes as his lips met hers.
Pure heaven. Tears pricked her eyelids, and she hoped they didn’t fall and earn his notice. She took a deep breath and fell into his kiss, warm and tender.
He moved his mouth over hers, nipping and sucking at her lips, kissing her cheeks as he cupped her face. She rested her hands on his shoulders, enjoying the play of muscles under his silky skin. He had definitely gained strength and power since she had last held him in her arms, but of course, that was to be expected. Eleven years had developed him from a young kid just leaving his teens to a mature, powerful man.
And she had missed all of it. Someone else had witnessed the fulfillment of his manhood. If things had turned out badly for her when she was injured, she never would have seen him again.
He stopped abruptly.
“What?” She opened her eyes hazily and realized he was wiping tears off her face. “Oh, um…” Her throat closed up. “Julia, amor meu.” He shook his head. “We do not have to do this if you are not ready.”
The floodgates opened and she buried her face in his neck. He leaned back into the sofa and wrapped his arms around her, murmuring soothing things in Portuguese.
She cried for all the lost years and all the stupid dates she had been on with losers and nice guys whose only problem was that they weren’t Francisco Duarte. Cried for all the time she’d spent grieving over losing him and kicking herself for not being brave enough to drive a couple hours to New York to see him.
He sat patiently under her until she ran out of tears, handing her a tissue from a box next to the couch. “Julia, you are breaking my heart.” He was telling the truth; she could hear the pain in his voice. “Tell me, my princess, what makes you cry so?”
She debated what to tell him. “Being here with you is very emotional.”
“Tell me about it,” he murmured, his dark eyes looking a bit wet themselves.
“When I got hurt at work, a patient in the emergency room was giving us trouble and I got caught in the middle. He shoved me into the countertop and I hit my head—pretty good concussion.”
“A head injury? My God, why didn’t you tell me?” He examined her scalp with his fingers and she pointed to the area that had been injured. “Does it still hurt?”
She shook her head. “No more headaches, but I feel almost…raw. Like when you have a healing scar and the skin is new and pink and tender. Concussions can make people moody.”
“Oh, dear.” His mouth pulled into a small smile. “But I know how to help moody women. I have four younger sisters—five if you count Stefania. Would you like some Belgian chocolate?”
She burst out laughing. “Frank, you dope. I had a head injury, not PMS.”
He gave her a bigger grin and she realized that he had succeeded in cheering her up. “You can still have the chocolate.”
But he wouldn’t make the next move. It was Julia who needed to start things up again. “Let’s have chocolate later, after we work up an appetite.”
“I already have a big appetite,” he murmured seductively, his erection firming under her again.
“Why don’t you show me?”
Frank hastily tossed the blankets in front of the fireplace and guided Julia down with him so they knelt face-to-face. She stroked his chest. His fingers quickly undid the catch and peeled her bra away.
“Beautiful.” He cupped her breasts, her plump flesh pale against his strong brown hands.