Daffin’s jaw clenched. She shouldn’t have asked. He clearly didn’t like to talk about his childhood or his parents, but that only served to make her wonder about them more.
“Theydidn’t,” he replied, his face a mask of stone. “I did.”
Regina closed her book and stared at him reverently. “You did?”
He nodded slowly, his gaze still focused on the fireplace. “Many years after the fact but yes, I did.”
Regina took a long, deep breath. She pushed the book aside and leaned toward him. “What happened to her, Daffin?”
He slowly turned to meet her eyes. “A man came into our house and murdered her. On Christmas Eve.”
Tears filled Regina’s eyes. “Christmas Eve?”
“Yes.” A muscle ticked in his jaw.
Regina searched his face. “Who was it? Why did he do it?”
“His name was Knowles. He was a paid murderer.”
“That’s horrifying,” Regina breathed, trying to comprehend such a tragedy.
Daffin sat back against the sofa. “Yes, well. It’s the reason I sometimes find it difficult to sleep during the Christmas season.”
Regina lifted her chin. There were more questions she wanted to ask, but she sensed it had cost him something to tell her that much. “When I can’t sleep, I usually read.”
“When I can’t sleep, I usually have a drink,” Daffin replied. “But I think I’ve had enough today, what with the bottle of brandy.”
Regina winced. “How’s your shoulder?”
Daffin gave it a sideways glance and lifted his arm as if testing it. “Sore, but fine. Thank you again for bandaging it.”
“I think you’re terribly brave to put yourself in harm’s way on a regular basis,” she whispered.
Daffin gave her a humorless smile. He shifted in his seat, moving closer to her. He leaned toward her. “Brave? Or mad?”
She twirled a dark curl around her fingertip, her heart beating like a hare’s foot in her chest. “Perhaps a bit of both.”
They fell silent and stared at each other, Daffin’s eyes so steady on hers, she had to fight the urge to avert her gaze. Then his attention moved… slid, really, up and over her hair, her brow, skipped down her nose, and landed resolutely on her lips. She wet them with her tongue, an involuntary reaction, and noticed the way the candlelight seemed to flare in his appraisal as his own lips parted.
He leaned closer, the brush of his exhale soft on her skin.
She closed her eyes.
His lips were firm, but moved across hers with gentle tenderness. He pulled her into his arms, cradling her against him as they kissed. Her fingers inched up his chest and his neck to twine through his hair and hold his head in place. His arms enveloped her, holding her close while his mouth slashed across hers. Then his left hand moved down to touch her hip and Regina thought she would go up in flames. His hand stayed there, riding her hip, not moving, while they kissed as if they could never get enough of each other.
His mouth moved to her ear and her body bucked. His hand on her hip helped to settle her back down. Then his lips moved to her neck and she arched into his kiss. He trailed his mouth down to her décolletage, and began to push her dressing gown aside.
“There you two are,” came Nicole’s voice from the doorway, jolting Regina and Daffin apart like guilty children. “Oh, dear. I haven’t interrupted at an inopportune time, have I? I could kick myself.”
Regina and Daffin quickly moved away from each other. Daffin retreated to the spot he’d occupied moments earlier, a good arm’s length away.
Regina cleared her throat. “We, er, couldn’t sleep. We both came down here and met quite coincidentally.”
“I can’t sleep, either.” Nicole slowly wandered into the room, her hand on her belly. “I’m a bundle of nerves.” She, too, wore a dressing gown, and, shivering, quickly snuggled under the blanket with Regina. Daffin stood and moved to the fireplace to stoke the fire.
Nicole sighed and laid her head back against the cushions. “I know I should write Mark and tell him what’s happened, but I cannot seem to bring myself to do so. I’m so worried for you, Regina. Mark will be, too.”
“I can write him if you like,” Daffin offered.
