Was. Slowly he let out the breath he’d been holding. Past tense. “He died?”

She flinched. “Yes.” Then gave her head a small shake. “We were . . .” She hesitated, licked her lips again. “Happy.”

But she looked even more miserable than she had before. And he had even more questions than he’d had before. Who the hell was Adrian? When had they been together? How had they been together? Lovers? Married? He swallowed back a growl at the thought of anyone touching Dani like that.

Then he forced himself to calm down and think. He wouldn’t do himself any favors grunting like a possessive caveman.

Think, Kennedy. Who the fuck is Adrian? But he couldn’t recall any of their mutual friends mentioning an old boyfriend, much less a husband.

How had Adrian died? And exactly how happy had they really been? Because she looked like she was about to cry, and he didn’t want that.

Steadying himself, he cupped her cheek in his palm, his heart perking up when her eyes closed again and she leaned into his touch. Hope flared in his chest, bright and hot and . . . painful, because if she didn’t mean it, it was going to hurt like hell.

It would hurt worse if he never tried.

“So,” he murmured, latching on to her—albeit reluctant—admission. “You want me. You just don’t want to want me.”

She hiccuped a stunned little laugh, her cheeks going all rosy. “Yes.”

“Not a bad starting place,” he said lightly.

She shook her head, her cheek brushing against his palm because she hadn’t pulled away. Nor had she opened her eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Like that’s the first time I’ve heard that.” He caressed her skin with his thumb, relaxing an iota when her lips curved. He leaned in a little closer until he could smell the light scent of chocolate in her hair. His courage was bolstered by the rapid flutter of the pulse at the hollow of her throat. Her mouth was right there. So damn tempting. But he’d never take anything from her without permission. “Dani?” he whispered.

Her eyes slowly rose to meet his and he sucked in a breath. He still saw sorrow, but there was also heat. Hunger. And a yearning that was every bit as strong as his own.

He could hear the seconds ticking by, loud drumbeats in his head. Or maybe that was his pulse, because his heart was pounding like it would break free from his chest.

Finally she spoke, the single word not a question, but an answer. “Yes.”

He reached for her, cupping her face in both hands. His trembling hands, he realized. He was shaking like a leaf. And then, after what had seemed like an eternity of waiting, he kissed her.