"James." Amara's voice softened instinctively, the way it always did around him. She eased out of Julian's arms, suddenly a touch self-conscious, smoothing her blouse as she sat up.
Julian, for his part, only chuckled low in his throat and kept one arm looped loosely around her waist, entirely unbothered at being caught mid-embrace by the man who had, for all intents and purposes, been standing in for Amara's father since the day her mother had passed away.
James had never been just an assistant, never just an employee, though that was the title that had technically appeared on his contract all those years.
He had shown up at every crisis with steady hands and a steadier voice, had shielded her from things she never even knew to be grateful for, and had done it all with the fierce, unglamorous loyalty of a man who had appointed himself her guardian and never once asked to be thanked for it.
Which was exactly why the shadow behind his smile now made her stomach tighten.
