No More Lonely Nights by Nicole McGehee

point. We’ll probably just see more of the same for a while. Border raids and the like. That’s what I intend to say in my report.” His voice dropped. It came out raspy and tender, like a lover in the dark. “I haven’t forgotten my promise to you. I’ll let you know if I think something’s going to happen. I wouldn’t let anything—” He stopped short. His eyes locked with Dominique’s. “I wouldn’t allow your family to fall into jeopardy,” he concluded formally.
    Dominique held her breath as she focused implacably on his face. After a moment she said softly, “I know.” Her trust in him was total, she realized.
    An odd light came over Stephen’s face. Dominique could see he was touched by her faith in him. She followed him with her eyes as he went back to his office.
    It was a little more than an hour later that she heard the sharp sound of high heels marching down the hall. Lieutenant Amanda Smythe brushed past Dominique without a word and entered Hampton’s office. She slammed the door so hard behind her that Dominique was afraid the glass panel would shatter.
    The woman’s voice, shrill and angry, rang out. “We’ve been planning this for weeks! You can’t cancel now!”
    Dominique couldn’t hear Hampton’s response—didn’t want to hear anything at all. She got up and went to the ladies’ room. When she returned, she saw that the door to Hampton’s office was still closed. She averted her eyes as she saw the blurry figure of Amanda Smythe pass behind the door. Dominique started to type, trying to ignore the drama going on just a few feet away. It was almost ten minutes more before the door opened again.
    “Fine.” The lieutenant’s high-pitched voice still registered displeasure, but the fury was gone. “I’m not at all happy about this, Stephen, but I’ll see you at eight-thirty. Don’t be late.”
    Dominique kept her head down as the lieutenant passed. But she still felt her glare.
    Seconds later, Hampton emerged from his office. Dominique continued to type, not wanting to meet his eyes. She was embarrassed for him—embarrassed to have witnessed such a private scene.
    As if reading her mind, Hampton addressed the matter directly. “Can you stop typing for a moment, Miss Avallon?” His voice was subdued.
    Dominique stopped and looked up at him. She focused on a place somewhere over his left shoulder. This was mortifying. She hated the woman for humiliating Stephen. He was so dignified and reserved. Such public ugliness must be unbearable for him.
    Hampton looked down at his feet, then at his secretary. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
    She couldn’t meet his gaze. She replied hastily, “I really didn’t. I was down the hall most of—” She paused when she saw the understanding smile on his face.
    Hampton said gently, “That’s a generous lie, Miss Avallon.” He was silent for a moment as he studied her face, his eyes soft. Then he nodded, almost imperceptibly. “You are a true lady,” he said.
    Her heart ached at the open simplicity of his declaration—at all that it implied. She wanted to cry, “Why do you put up with her? You deserve so much better!” It was almost a physical labor to suppress the words.
    Dominique’s eyes locked with Stephen’s. She swallowed, and the sound filled her ears. She sat motionless, unable to speak.
    Stephen held her gaze, wouldn’t release it. His eyes were bright silvery gray, like clouds after a storm. Dominique’s nerves tingled with the impact of his regard. When he spoke, she was almost startled by the sound. “Miss Avallon, I’m sure I’ve disrupted your plans this evening. When we finish, would you permit me to drive you home so you don’t have to wait for the shuttle?”
    Heat rose in Dominique, starting in a place near her stomach and filling her chest, then her head. It took great effort to answer calmly, “Yes, sir, I would.”
    When Dominique and Stephen emerged from the office at seven-thirty, the sky was