When Dante returns, my heart leaps into my throat. For the first time since he showed up this morning - hell, since he walked back into my life - I allow myself to really look at him, to face the demon who broke my heart.

His dark hair is slightly ruffled, and I wonder if it fell that way on its own or if he's been running his hand through it. He used to do that - run his hand through his hair - while he was working, thinking his way through a problem in his ...