Jude was more pleased with that idea than he should have been. And much like the warmth he’d felt earlier, the feeling wasn’t familiar.
When his one and only serious relationship had imploded in his early twenties, he’d decided that he didn’t have the time or emotional energy to deal with another breakup.
Now it felt like the doorknob to the room where he’d shoved his capability to feel things like that had begun to slowly turn. He knew that he couldn’t allow it to fully open.
Because feeling even just the beginning stages of those emotions was opening himself up to something that wasn’t a good idea. He never wanted anything that distracted him from his job or blurred the line between his work and his personal life.
But emotions were stirring inside him that he couldn’t seem to suppress, and there was a part of him that didn’t want to.
“I’ve got to get back to work,” Jude said. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Angela nodded, and the smile she gave him lingered in his mind after they said goodbye.
As he walked back to the security building, Jude found his thoughts drifting back to a time he never revisited if he could help it.
He’d tried his best to ignore that period of time. Back when he hadn’t been so protective of his heart. When he’d viewed the women who’d walked away from his dad and Duncan as the exception, not the rule.
Unfortunately, he’d discovered over the years that maybe they’d been the rule. Even though Duncan had gone on to find love again with Elizabeth, Jude wasn’t one hundred percent certain it would last. Though he hoped it would for Duncan’s sake, and because he did really like Elizabeth.
He needed to keep in mind that he had a position with Duncan Burke that others would kill for. And while that position might require him to spend time with Angela, there were lines he shouldn’t cross.
He was pretty sure Duncan wouldn’t be on board for anything of that sort.
And he shouldn’t be either, Jude reminded himself. He had to remember where his time and attention needed to be.
CHAPTER NINE
Although disappointed, Angela wasn’t really surprised when Jude didn’t return to sample the cinnamon rolls later that day. She had to remember that she was just another person whose security was his responsibility.
Anything he did with her was at the behest of Duncan. Her… father.
With a sigh, she sank down on the loveseat next to the window in her room and stared out at the forest around the mansion.
The trees swayed gently in the late afternoon breeze, their stark branches creating dancing shadows across the snowy lawn. The sun would soon be gone for the day, since the winter days in Idaho were short.
Angela traced her finger along the windowpane, feeling the cool glass against her skin. How strange to think that not that long ago, she'd never seen a house so grand. Never seen so much snow that lingered. Never known she was a Burke.
She picked up the worn, leather-bound book beside her. She’d found it in the kitchen, and Mrs. Stevens had said she could look through it. The book contained the handwritten recipes of Mrs. Stevens and her mother, going back several decades.
But she couldn’t focus on the words. And it wasn’t because she needed to concentrate to make out the words written in a spidery scrawl.
Her mind kept drifting back to Jude's serious expression, and the way his blue eyes had softened slightly when she'd asked himif he wanted to stick around for a cinnamon bun, even though he’d said he couldn’t.
There had been something there, hadn't there? Or was she imagining a connection where none existed?
"You're being silly," she whispered to herself.
A man like Jude wouldn't be interested in someone like her—someone who barely understood the world she now found herself in. Besides, he worked for her father. There were probably rules about that sort of thing.
The sound of footsteps in the hallway made her heart quicken, even though she knew it wasn’t likely to be Jude. In fact, it was Kiara, and when she stepped through the doorway, Angela straightened.
“Hey, Sis,” Kiara said as she plopped down on the loveseat next to Angela. “What’ve you been up to? I smell the cinnamon rolls, so I assume they turned out okay.”
“I think they did,” Angela said. “They looked like the ones I made at the bakery.”
“Do you miss it?” Kiara asked.
“Not the early mornings or Patty,” Angela told her. “But I do miss all the baking I did.”
