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“The security guard escorted me. I showed him my West Nat pass card and said you’d been trying to reach me. He seemed to understand, said you were still here and brought me up.”

“I must remember to thank him. Why?”

“I know how important it is to see someone when you’ve been worried about them.”

“Terrified is a better word.” Hamish took another step closer.

“Terrified then,” she hesitated. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. I accidentally left my phone behind when I went to a meeting on another floor.”

“You look tired. Great, but tired.” Hamish breathed her in.

Her deftly applied makeup couldn’t disguise the smudges below her eyes from someone studying her as intently as Hamish was. A little thinner perhaps, and swallowed by that coat.

She shrugged. “Work’s been busy.”

“Let me take your coat.”

“I won’t be here that long.”

“Long enough to take off the coat.” He stepped around her to slip it from her shoulders, throwing it in the direction of the sofa without looking. A dress, figure-hugging jersey in a forest green. His throat ached remembering how he’d teased another green dress off her on their last night together.

“My office must have let you know I was safe.” Her attention was focused on the opposite wall.

“A bloke called.” She was here in the room with Hamish. Close enough to inhale her, the scent she’d worn the first night they’d made love. Being here had to count for something. “I thought you’d be home with your family.”

“I video-linked to Papa, and the brothers and Aunty, let them see I was in one piece.” She’d never have settled for a video-link when Sophie went missing. She knew seeing wasn’t enough, would never be enough.

“Thank you for coming.” He allowed himself to hope she’d listen to him. “Seeing you isn’t enough.” He stood at her shoulder. “I need to touch you too, Miranda. To know you’re real as well as safe.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Hamish.”

When Hamish didn’t step back, she took a deep breath, swung around to face him and stepped back herself. Then offered a hand.

“A handshake?” He looked at it, saw the tremble before her fingers formed a fist.

“It’s the best I can do,” she whispered.

Hamish stretched out his hand, took hers, thinking he could willingly drown in her beautiful eyes, cursing himself for the tears trembling on her lashes. Before they could spill over, he tugged her forward, tipping her into his arms to bind her to him. It was enough for the moment to hold her close, not sure who was comforting whom, aware of his galloping pulse and her unsteady breaths. He held her for long moments, not trusting himself to move.

“Let me go.” She pulled back.

“I’d rather not.” He rested his cheek against her temple.

“I only came because ...” She’d donned a reserve more impenetrable than chainmail.

He’d backed her further into the room, away from the door. “I know. Talk to me.” The first stirring of panic rippled through him.

“About what?”

“Anything.” Listening to her voice delighted Hamish.

“Why didn’t you go home?”

I don’t have a home without you.Sentimental claptrap and not what she needed to hear from him. “I thought you’d call, or send a message. I planned to come and see you, wherever you were,” he said.

“You visited Papa.”

“He told you.”Was that a good thing?