Her body had a mind of its own as she instinctively turned into him and slid her arms around his middle, gloved hands clutching at the folds of his coat. She couldn't begin to stop herself as she leaned into him, closing her eyes and breathing in deep to capture the scent of him that she'd longed for. Leather, cigarettes, and a spice that was unique to him.

It lasted only a few seconds before she pulled away again, stepping back to put physical distance between them in the small space of the elevator. "I'm sorry," she let out in a rush, fighting the urge to go right back where she belonged in the shelter of those strong arms. "My husband died four years ago and I-- I've missed him."