Craving Her Enemy's Touch. Rachael Thomas

His voice was so raw he couldn’t say anything else, painfully aware he was intruding on her moment of grief.

      ‘What else?’ She looked at him and he saw the gleam of tears collect in her eyes and the pressure on his chest intensified.

      Thankful for the diversion, he walked over to the desk and opened the laptop, turned it on and looked across the desk at her. Her pretty face was pale, her eyes wide, reminding him of a startled doe. ‘There are lots of photos on here, as well as all he created in the design programme.’

      She hesitated for a moment and he wondered if it was all too much. She stood and watched him as he opened the photos up on the screen and turned the laptop to face her. He felt her scrutiny and questions press down on him.

      Slowly she reached out, one fingertip touching the screen. He watched her eyes, the green becoming much more intense as she looked at the photo of Seb sitting in the driving seat of the test car, and he inwardly cursed. Couldn’t he have selected a more appropriate photo for her to see first?

      ‘When was this taken?’ Her voice was fragile as she continued to look at the screen. She swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay, and for the first time ever he wished a woman would cry. She needed to let out her grief.

      He hated the answer he was going to have to give. ‘The day before the accident.’ It took huge effort to keep his voice calm, to keep it steady, but even to his ears each word he’d just said sounded cold. He’d studied the photo since then, shocked to see a hint of trouble in Seb’s eyes. Would she notice too?

      She looked up at him and tears filled her eyes, making them shine like gemstones. Before he’d thought about the consequences, he moved around the desk and took her in his arms. Without hesitation, she sought the comfort he offered and pressed her face in her hands, her forehead on his chest as sobs racked her body.

      ‘Dio mio. This is too much for you.’ He wanted to clench his fists in anger but instead spread them over her back as the sobs continued, smoothing them over her and pulling her closer against him.

      ‘No, it’s not.’ The strangled words came out in a rush, muffled by her hands and his body.

      ‘It is, cara, it is,’ he soothed, just as he’d done for his sister many times as they’d grown up, but this wasn’t his sister. This was a woman he desired with every nerve in his body.

      ‘I should, I should.’ Sobs prevented her words from coming out and, without thinking, he lowered his head, pressing his lips into her hair. She stilled in his arms momentarily and he closed his eyes against the memories of when he’d thought his life was complete. He pushed back the knowledge that he’d failed to be the man his wife had wanted, lifted his chin and took in a deep breath.

      It seemed like for ever that he held Charlie as she cried, each sob transferring her pain to him, increasing his guilt for not having been there the night Seb had decided to take the car out again. He would have seen the drink-and drugs-induced euphoria and could have stopped him. The discovery still shocked him now. How had they worked so closely together for all those months without him noticing Seb had such a problem?