Caroline knew it would be perfect, but they scoured it for mistakes a second time.
“Let’s put out a paper, gentlemen,” Max declared before shooting his gaze towards her. “And lady.”
Caroline rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Too late,” she joked as the compositors and pressmen drifted toward the back of the building. Max extinguished one of the gas lanterns on the proofing side of the room and then jerked his head toward the closet.
Caroline nodded. He’d told her not to go anywhere alone.
Except with him.
Moving silently, she slipped inside the empty storage room.
A minute later, Max joined her.
DON’T STOP
“Shouldn’t you leave it cracked?” Caroline whispered when Maxwell pulled the door closed behind him.
“I cut a hole here.” It was the first thing he’d done after leaving Caroline’s home earlier that day. Which had been a good decision, because he wouldn’t have had time later, what with Wallace absent.
The abandoned closet normally would have smelled like the rest of the Gazette’s office—a combination of ink and paper and oil. Instead, Caroline’s scent filled his senses.
Hints of some citrus and flowers he couldn’t recognize, but familiar, and sexy as hell.
“Where is it?”
“Right here.” Taking her hand, Max guided her fingertips to the small opening. Through it, he had a direct line of sight to the frames.
Max rubbed his hands together. They would finally catch whoever’d been tormenting him all this time.
"It's perfect," she whispered in the enveloping darkness.
He had no need for light; he could feel her presence.
She peered through the opening, emanating warmth along his side. In the obscurity, the rustle of her gown evoked the memory of the night before. He flexed his hand and inhaled deeply, wanting to breathe in more of her. All of her if that was possible.
It would have been better if she’d stayed home—for her own safety. But she’d stepped up when the paper needed her.
When he’d needed her.
So, with the building half-empty, at this time of night, he would damn well keep her in his sights until she was safe at home.
“We can take turns watching.” Max leaned over her, positioning his eye so he could keep watch. In such crowded quarters, it only made sense to reach around her back and rest his palm on her rounded hip. Both of them stayed quiet for the next few minutes, until Caroline broke the silence.
“Thank you for earlier,” she whispered.
Doing his best to focus on the stillness of the work room, Max almost didn’t hear her. He swallowed. “You don’t need to thank me.” He’d skimmed the article earlier, knowing she’d want to cut anything written about her brother.
And his heart had dropped into his shoes when he’d caught her contemplating it.
It hadn’t been a test, he’d simply kept it with the other articles in the event that they lacked material. But, whether it was intended or not, he’d learned the strength of her character.
It had been a weak story. He’d half-expected her to hide it from him. He wasn’t sure he’d blame her if she had.
“I didn’t even want to read it. I wanted it to disappear.” Her stark honesty nearly broke his heart.
“He’s your brother.”
“I know. But you are my… I never want to betray your trust.”
