He shook his head, looked away from her and shrugged as if he didn’t understand the question.

“You took care of Sheila.” She couldn’t move her hands from the curve of his jaw. They belonged there.

He nodded.

“Made all the...arrangements, handled the well-wishers. Made sure she ate?”

“That’s what...men...do.”

Realization hit her like a brick. “That’s what your father says.” Anger toward the older man flashed through her, followed quickly by pity, then sadness.

All this time, Daniel had kept his loss to himself. Provided and cared for someone else, never succumbing to his grief.

Until now.

His lips parted. “I’m sor—”

She stopped his apology with her fingers. “Don’t.” His gaze shifted to her mouth. Without thought, she straightened so she could reach him and gently placed her lips on his.

He moved slowly at first. Small tentative kisses, as if unsure what she wanted. She leaned closer to him, opening her mouth to him. His response to her invitation was immediate and frantic. His hands on either side of her head were strong yet gentle, and he pulled her close, moving his mouth on hers as if he were parched and she was water. He tasted smoky like the bourbon and smelled of leather and the outdoors. When he moved his body closer to her, she met him halfway, so not even air could get between them.

He released their kiss and placed hot full lips on the cool skin of her neck and she shivered, a small moan escaping her. She was losing herself in his touch. He pulled back, and Annika had to suppress a whimper. She opened her eyes and found him looking at her, his eyes hooded with desire. He touched his lips to hers again, gently to start, but Annika wanted more, and within seconds her need took over and she took his mouth with hers.

Daniel responded in kind. Every kiss, every touch was fueled by his passion and his grief. She recognized his need to feel something again as it mirrored her own need. She did not resist. She did not want to.

He stopped, resting his forehead against hers, his fingers in her hair, his breath coming hard and fast. “Tell me to stop.”

Without breaking her gaze, she reached down, grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and yanked it over her head. “I don’t want to stop.” All of her fears and sorrows were at the surface. She wanted this. She needed this man.

This man, who not only had his sorrows but understood hers, and looked at her like she could fix everything. Maybe she could.

Her breath came heavy as she leaned toward him and slipped her thumb just under his shirt, rubbing his skin. She captured his groan in her mouth as she kissed him again. He reached over his head and pulled off his shirt, kissing her deeper and drawing her closer.