With him still inside her, she reached over his arms and unlocked the cuffs from the headboard. He rolled her onto her back and pulled out. Exhaustion hit her then and she remembered she’d barely slept the night before and the night before that. Fear had kept her awake but she wasn’t afraid now, not in this bed with this man who could and would kill to protect her if it ever came to that. She opened her legs for him and he slid two fingers into her, caressing his own semen in her body. When she fell asleep moments later, he was still inside her.

When Nora woke it was full night. A sound had woken her, something like a knock or a bell. The bed was empty. She was alone. She slipped from the bed and found Juliette’s silk robe on the back of the bathroom door and put it on, cinching the cord around her waist. When she left Kingsley’s bedroom she heard something. Whispering voices that carried down the empty halls.

She walked down the main staircase and stopped on the landing. Søren stood in the foyer, a streetlight from outside turning his blond hair white. He had Kingsley in his arms.

Nora said nothing. Since she’d gone to work for Kingsley, a rift had formed between him and Søren. This was the first time she’d seen them this close in three years. Oh, they joked, they teased, they drank together on occasion. But it wasn’t like this. It wasn’t honest like this. Kingsley clutched Søren’s lapels in his fists and his head rested on Søren’s shoulder. Søren had his arms around Kingsley, stroking his back with one hand while the other twined tight in Kingsley’s hair, holding him close. Blood had seeped through Kingsley’s white shirt and she knew Søren could feel the deep welts on Kingsley’s body through the fabric. Søren was whispering something in Kingsley’s ear, something that shook Kingsley to his soul. The way Kingsley’s back moved she could tell he was either weeping or trying not to. She’d seen Kingsley and Søren in bed together and it still hadn’t been half as intimate as seeing them like this, seeing Kingsley like a scared child seeking love and safety in his father’s arms.

Nora turned to go, to give them their privacy, but Søren said her name.

She turned back around and looked down at them.

Kingsley released Søren first and stood up straight. He and Søren locked eyes before Kingsley nodded at something Søren didn’t have to say. When Søren brushed his lips across Kingsley’s forehead, Kingsley closed his eyes, wincing as if the kiss burned. With his composure regained, Kingsley headed up the stairs, stopping to kiss her on the cheek as he passed. When she and Søren were alone, she continued downstairs and stopped on the final step meeting Søren eye to eye.

“Four months?” Søren asked, his hands on her waist.

“What’s four months?”

“Can you spare me for four months? Kingsley says he can as long as I’m home by New Year’s.”

“You’ll go to Syria, but only for four months?”

“Yes.” Søren clasped his hands in front of him. Although he didn’t have his collar on, he looked like a priest. Light from a street lamp streamed through the windows and surrounded him like a ghostly halo. All she had to do was take a step forward and she would be inside his circle of light.

“If Kingsley can spare you four months, so can I,” she said, sticking to the shadows where she felt safest. She didn’t want him to see the look of relief on her face, the tears in her eyes.

“You’ll tear up your ticket?”

“It’s refundable,” she said, her voice hoarse and sticking in her throat.

“You were really going to follow me to Syria if I moved there permanently?”

“Søren,” she said, shaking her head. “I already hired a house sitter.”

“I’m touched. Truly.” His words could have been sarcastic, and she wouldn’t have blamed him, but they weren’t. He was touched. Truly.

“I can’t come back to you, but I won’t live without you, either. One is purgatory. The other would be hell.”

Søren stepped closer, brought his mouth to hers. Nora pulled back.

“What about your vows?” she asked.

“They can start tomorrow.”

Nora laughed and took him in her arms, kissing him and being kissed with abandon. His hands slipped into the robe, found her breasts and held them as his tongue tasted her mouth and she tasted his. He slid his hand between her legs.

“Kingsley?” he asked. She knew he could feel the wetness inside her.

“He needed it. So did I,” she said as his fingers slipped in deeper. “Do you need it?”

“No,” he said, and she did her best to hide her disappointment. His hands left her body and she tightened the robe about her again.

“So you’re really going to try this whole chastity/celibacy thing?” she asked.

“I was celibate for fourteen years before you. I could make it another fourteen years.”

“You’ll miss me.”

“I already do.”

“What if I said I’d come to you?”

“I’d take you back to me.”

“Vows be damned?”

“Not damned,” he said. “Merely dented.”

“You should come up and stay the night with us. For old time’s sake.”

“Didn’t we just have the chastity discussion ten seconds ago?”

“Remind me—was that before or after your fingers were inside me?”

“Touché.” He kissed her again but quickly before taking a step back. “I should go. Eight o’clock Mass tomorrow morning.”

“You leave Wednesday?”

“Wednesday. We should say our goodbyes now,” he said. “I don’t know if we’ll have another chance before I go.”

“I could take you to the airport. Or King will. Or we both will.”

“Diane’s taking me. If either of you do...”

“What?”

“I might not get on the plane.”

Nora smiled. Søren could be cold and cruel at times but other times it seemed he was born to say the words she most needed to hear.

“Goodbye then,” she said. “Be safe. I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

“If I know you—and I do—you’ll find something to occupy yourself,” he said. He kissed her cheek and turned to leave. She wanted to be strong enough to let him go without another word. But she wasn’t so she ran to him, ran into the light, and let him take her in his arms. The tears flowed freely, and he rocked her against him.

“My love.” He sighed as he held her. “My Little One...”

She inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of snow on his skin and hair, the eternal winter that he carried inside him. He smelled like Christmas Eve, the one night of the year even grown-ups could believe in magic.

“You weren’t really going to leave forever, were you? Leave us forever?” she asked. “You know I love you. You know I’ll always love you. Even if I can’t...if we can’t make this work, it doesn’t mean I don’t love you. You’re...”

“What?”

“You’re my everything,” she said. “I know you could leave me. I’ve given you every reason to. But Kingsley?”

“I would have stayed away as long as I needed to,” he whispered against her hair.

“For what?”

“Winning, of course,” he said. “The endgame.”

He pulled up and brushed her hair from her face, brushed the tears from her cheeks.

“I should have known this was part of some strategy of yours. What is your endgame, Blondie? Tell me so I know how to beat you.”

“My endgame is the same endgame as in every game of chess.”

“Which is?”

Søren glanced at the stairs that led up to Kingsley’s inner sanctum.

“Protect your king.”

Of course. So that’s why it had to be this way, why Søren had to leave or why he had to at least try to leave. Leaving was the only move that could force Kingsley into forgiving Søren, force them into a long-overdue reconciliation. Kingsley needed Søren and Søren needed Kingsley, but they were so damn stubborn the rift between them might never have healed if Søren hadn’t taken this assignment. This game wasn’t chess. It was poker, and Søren held all the aces. Tonight, for the first time in three years, she’d seen Kingsley in Søren’s arms, clinging to him with need and love and everything he had and felt for Søren. Søren hadn’t been bluffing by packing his bags to leave. But he had gotten her and Kingsley to finally show him the cards in their hands—all hearts.