~ A Safe Place To Hide ~

by

Jaxine Daniels

Even more magnificent, though, Sophie realized, was that Daniel had joined in the laughter. In a totally unrehearsed, unpremeditated way, he took her hand and brought it to his smiling lips.

And then, he stopped laughing.

His eyes still shone with the smile. But, then the look changed, filled with melancholy and misgiving. Sophie watched him wrestle with ghosts.

The decision that had hung over both of them since the very moment they met.

Would they love each other? Were they willing?

Daniel had, up to this very moment, denied not his willingness to love again--he never got that far--but his very ability to do so.

And yet, he had consistently moved forward, in small ways like getting rid of the furniture and in bigger ones like selling the house, lovingly putting his past in the past, to this moment when he knew he was able to love again.

But was he willing?

Sophie let him take his time, allowed him to hold her hand to his lips, her eyes locked with his. She could have pushed him one way or the other, but this was not hers to do.

Slowly, he dropped her hand and put his arm around her, pulling her close, kissing the top of her head. Minutes ticked by silently.

At that moment, she wasn’t sure what he’d decided so she closed her eyes and enjoyed his warm nearness, trying desperately to calm the sudden crush of panic that overwhelmed her.

Until just now, she’d have said that she could go either way, that if he decided he wasn’t able to love her, wasn’t willing to walk down that road, it would have been okay. It was no longer okay. Now, she really wanted to walk down that road with him, wanted him to choose her.

With a small sob stuck in her chest, she pulled away, pushed to her feet.

“I need to go, Daniel.”

He let her get to the door before he moved.

“Wait, Sophie.”

She stopped, holding her breath, not turning around.

“I’ll walk you down to your car.”

He said nothing more until she pulled her key from her pocket and slid it into the lock on the driver’s side.

“Sophie,” he whispered, so soft, filled with desperation.

She froze.

He raised his hand to her chin, lifting her face so their eyes met. There was still uncertainty there, but it wasn’t an uncertainty born of indecision. He had decided.

Daniel couldn’t speak, couldn’t find words. It was all still too new, too fragile.

But he knew that she knew. The look she gave him, a look of understanding and hope, filled almost with wonder, gave him the courage he needed to kiss her.

Her lips met his, softly. If he’d guessed at the outcome, he’d have put money on it ending there, a nice, sweet promise, a soft anticipation of poetry. And it was all those things, at the beginning. But, then she moved closer and he felt his body stir and the kiss went on, hotter, deeper, aching, raging. And he was lost in her, wanting, needing.

Needing to stop before…

Daniel stepped back, disconnecting. He slid his hands down her shoulders, down her arms, taking her hands and holding them against his racing heart.

Still no words came.

Sophie could not help herself--she laughed. Sweet, sexy, and way too serious Daniel.

A quick, almost offended look crossed his face before he looked away.

“I will see you tomorrow, my Daniel, and the day after.”

He still didn’t look up, but brought her hands to his lips and kissed them before stepping back, letting go.

“Tomorrow, then. Thank you for coming, Sophie.”

She stepped forward and kissed his cheek.

~ * ~

Sophie arrived at SAR just after lunchtime. Instead of going straight to the conference room, she marched up the stairs to Daniel’s office.

It was the first time she’d been up there.

Daniel froze when he saw her, standing in the doorway.

“I would have expected your desk to be neater,” she said, trying to avoid any awkwardness.

He looked at his desk, piled high with books, file folders, even a climbing harness, then shrugged.

“I have no defense.”

“I am here because I said I would see you today. But I have no work to do; I am waiting on prints to be developed. I see, though, that you are working so I will just say that I will see you soon, my Daniel.”

With that, she turned and left.

Daniel blinked. Then smiled. Well, that was one way to get past the morning after jitters.

She was something.

~ * ~

The evening started out well enough, Sophie thought. She had arrived at the ‘O’ to find Daniel already there waiting, it seemed, for her. Not that he was obvious about it. Actually, if she had called him on it, he’d have blushed and denied it. He was still very much in denial about his feelings, still wrestling with ghosts.

Not that Sophie could blame him, really. Her father was still mourning her mother, nearly twenty years later.

But, tonight, Daniel was sitting at a back table, alone. When she came in, he stood up in invitation. She wasn’t about to refuse.

Without even having to ask--he had been paying attention--the waitress arrived with her Champagne within seconds of Sophie sitting down.

“Merci,” she said, first to the girl, then, more pointedly to Daniel.

“De rien,” he answered with no hesitation.

It wasn’t nothing though. Sophie smiled and he looked away.

“You do speak French.”

“No, I don’t.”

Now, a hint of a smile in his eyes, that didn’t make it to his lips.

“I don’t dance either,” he said, standing up. “But if I don’t dance with you…” he held out his hand for hers, “…Cruz tells me that someone else will and I’ll be the loser.”

She pushed to her feet and he drew her to him, still holding her left hand with his left, his right hovering at the small of her back as they moved toward the dance floor.

Suddenly, Sophie felt her cheeks grow hot and the butterflies roared to life within her.

Daniel pulled her snug against him and began swaying with a seduction she would not have guessed he possessed. So close together. His body heat coursed through her. Desire pulsed inside.

She tipped her head back to look up at him. Eyes so blue, so alive. He wasn’t smiling, but all denial was gone, at least for the moment. The look he gave her was so full of hunger and longing that it frightened her. Another thing she had not seen coming, it was she who broke the contact, she who stepped back--only centimeters, but enough.

“You lied.”

“Excuse me?” he asked, verifying that she’d actually said the words.

“The way you dance… it is very…?” The words got stuck.

He smiled uncomfortably. The moment had passed and he was embarrassed.

She had not meant to do that.

The world intruded, suddenly.

“Daniel.”

“Sophie?”

“Your pager.”

“Right,” he said stepping back, breaking the silver thread of contact that remained.

Disappointment chased across his face, followed closely by something that looked like relief.

“You have to go.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry.”

Not just him apparently. Beepers went off all across the room. Kit and the Aussie still hung tight to each other, even as she and Daniel moved back toward their table.

Daniel pulled his coat on then hesitated beside her.

“I’m sorry.”

“C’est rien.”

“Sophie…”