Page 37 of The Temptation of Roan Island

As if that offers any more clarity.

Now we climb up the stairwell, even though we’re moving in the same direction we were before, and emerge through another painting—this one torn, and it isn’t Zarah. The corridor looks much like the one we left, but different. The paintings here are more garish, the lights brighter.

“What is this place?”

“You don’t have to whisper anymore,” he says. “They can’t hear us down here.”

“But where are we?”

“I told you. The Gate House.” He continues through the hallway until we arrive at a library—like the one we usually go to, but not at all the same.

I stall at the threshold, pulling my hand from his. “Shemaiah?”

He stops, turning just inside the door to look at me. He’s still only half dressed in a loose shirt partially tucked into his pants, his hair disheveled, strands hanging about his face. His dark eyes are gentle, and I wish they weren’t. I wish they were distant and unyielding like they usually are.

“We went through a Mavarri portal into a replica of the house above. As I understand it, Mavarri used to be able to cross into other worlds through here, but the passages were sealed.”

“Ah, that’s what you meant by a Gate House.”

He nods and walks deeper into the room. “We can talk freely here. There’s a bell that will let us know if anyone comes down.”

Shemaiah sits on a couch, and I take the chair across from him. It’s much like our usual arrangement in the library above. He leans back and heaves a sigh. “Thank you.”

I wait rather than say anything, wanting him to be the one to start us off.

“I shouldn’t have put you in that position, but I just…” He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and drops his head in his hands. “She was crying, and I made you cry earlier, and I just didn’t want to hurt anyone. I made a mess of things. Usually I’m the one cleaning those up.” He glances at me, then away.

“Is the idea of giving Anna a chance really that bad? So bad you’d fake a relationship with a woman you’ve been avoiding for two weeks? A woman you don’t like?”

“I like you, Pippa.” He rubs his chin. “I’ve been lonely these last two weeks without you.” One hand wraps around the back of his neck, while the other falls away from his face. “And… when I saw you this morning, I realized I missed… this.”

My breath catches in my chest at his admission, bitter at how much my emotions are pacified hearing it, soaking it in like a sponge, even if he didn’t say he missed me, but rather not being alone.

“Thank you,” he sighs, “for rescuing me, agreeing to pretend with me.”

That makes me offer him a shallow laugh.

He smiles. A smile so soft I can’t look at it. I turn my attention to my hands in my lap. “So what now?”

“I’m in love with you and trying to woo you.”

I brave a glance at him. “I thought I was in love once.”

Shemaiah’s smile fades. “With your son’s father?”

I nod and swallow, bolstering my defenses. “I mean, so I know how it feels, how to act.”

“And was he in love with you?”

“He said he was. But in the end, it was all fake.”

Shemaiah’s jaw tenses, and his back straightens. “We should set some rules. To keep things clear.”

“Alright.” I frown. “Like what?”

“You can’t fall in love with me.”

I scoff. “Presumptuous.”