He stepped into the hallway Eleanor had disappeared down. Within a few steps, the low hum of conversation from the ballroom faded, leaving a careful quiet. He forced himself to keep a slow pace as he moved farther and farther from the main party.

With a start, Cael recognized this hall. It was the same one they’d come down last year, tipsy and leaning too hard on each other. Part of him still couldn’t believe it had ended the way it did. His bruised heart knew the truth, though.

He stopped in front of the doorway into the dim sitting room he’d only been in once, but was imprinted on his memory all the same. It looked a little different now, but he’d know it even without the faint light streaming through the large windows overlooking the yard.

And there, standing in the circle of light as if a specter from his dreams, stood Eleanor.

His need to touch her drove him forward a step before he managed to leash himself. Cael slipped his hands into his pockets and stopped just inside the doorway. “Eleanor.”

“Hello, Cael.” The first time they’d spoken, her low voice had surprised him. Now he craved hearing his name from her lips on a level that made his hands tremble.

“I’m surprised you attended. You’re not a senator’s wife any longer.”

“No. I’m not.” She turned away. “Maybe my memory is hazy, but I don’t remember you being cruel.”

“Things change.” Not his connection with her, though. He took another few steps into the room. “I was never cruel until you gave me reason to be.”

She sighed. “That’s not fair.”

It wasn’t and he knew it. Cael gave in to the desire to move closer. He stopped next to her, their shoulders just shy of brushing. He’d never been more aware of negative space than he was in that moment, especially when he caught a hint of her expensive perfume. Something that reminded him of her voice, smooth, low, and tempting. He dragged in a breath like it might be his last, categorizing every little detail. “If you want me to leave, I’ll leave.”

Eleanor finally turned to look at him. Even as he told himself not to, he shifted to face her as well. This close, she looked even better, though there were new lines at the corners of her eyes. She’d weathered a rough six months between the last holiday party and when her husband died and it showed. It didn’t detract from her beauty, though. If anything, it only accented it.

A bare six inches separated them, and it took everything he had not to reach for her. He’d done that before, more times than he could count. He’d given in to the offer in her blue eyes, to the sinful words she’d spilled in his ear as he pulled her close.