And he had her, hook, line and sinker. Really, what did it was the begging. He was so like a child, needing to be held, and it tugged at the part of her that Juniper had always avoided. The fatherless waif part that wondered occasionally at what it would be like to have had one. Maybe he was as uncertain as she.

Stepping forward, completely out of sight and into the shadows, Juniper raised her hand and ran the tips of her fingers along his cheek. You are cold, she thought, not having to make an effort at all to get herself heard now. It had been so long since she'd practiced, but it had come back like riding a bike.

Closing the distance between them, Juniper ran her hand from his cheek, down his neck, and then around his shoulders, pulling him into her arms, just where, apparently, he wanted to be. She closed her eyes and let out a sigh, marveling at the difference in their body temperatures, which was all her brain was really allowing her to understand at that point. Then she pulled back, just slightly, to look at him again. Better? she asked, her fingers curling in the hair at the nape of his neck.