Aidan was drinking in her face with a look she could not move away from.

“Not beautiful,” Noelle stammered. “I’m not.”

“What would make you believe such a thing?”

Her mouth opened to begin reiterating a long list of proofs, but not a single sound came out.

Aidan took off his glove. He reached out with a gentleness that was so exquisite she felt she might cry for the confirmation of his truth in it. His hand warm, his skin silk over iron, touched her cheek, rested there. She could not move away from his touch, held there, captive to his unexpected tenderness.

“You are so beautiful,” he said softly. “You may be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Her mouth fell open. She could feel herself leaning toward whatever she saw in his eyes.

“Daddy, are you going to kiss Noelle?”

The little voice, inquisitive, delighted, yanked them apart.

His hand fell down. He shoved it into his pocket. “Of course not!” he said.

“No!” Noelle agreed.

But that near-miss, near-kiss moment was sizzling in the air between them.