As they stood in the quiet night, the sounds of the party a world away, Audrey held him and stroked his spine. It was impossible not to think about the first time she’d seen him here—embraced him here—so aloof, holding himself back from life, from connection. An island unto himself. Every step of drawing him out had been a journey of discovery. And the real man had been so much more than her fantasies. Before the call about John, he’d been a changed man, still caring and protective, but also fun and alive. Vibrant. This Hudson was something else again. He was hollow and wounded, and it was breaking her heart.
“I’m sorry. I’m so goddamned sorry.”
The remorse in his voice was so hard to hear. He hated himself for the things he’d said far more than she ever had—ever could—and that hurt her.
