Page 39

“Moray’s never been in love before, so he doesn’t know that things are never so cut-and-dried as you’ve made them out to be,” she said. “And neither is sex.”

“This is a conversation I don’t want to have,” he said, pushing up from his desk.

“Sit,” she ordered sharply.

He immediately sat.

“You’re in love with Ina,” she said.

He pursed his lips but nodded just the same. There was little point in trying to hide it from Eva for any longer since she could clearly see through every one of his lies.

A look of satisfaction slid across her face. “I thought so. How long has it been?”

He let out a long, slow breath. “Do you want an exact date?”

“Just an estimate will do.”

“Five years, give or take.”

“That’s a long time,” she said.

“I have a high tolerance for pain apparently.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Why what?”

“Why do you say it like that? Why call it pain?”

He raked a hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to explain to her what it was like to love a woman who had not the least bit of romantic interest in you.

“Because I watch her every single day knowing she’ll never understand the way I feel about her. I’ll always be just her friend.”

There. He’d said it out loud. Ina could never love him because she didn’t see him as anything other than a friend. There was no future for them. Their relationship would always be as it was now.

“And yet you married her even though you knew she might never return those feelings for you,” she said. “Why?”

“Because she needed me. But need is not the same as love.”

“Can I say, for someone who reveres her friendship so much, you’re showing an extraordinary lack of faith in the lady,” said Eva.

He reared back. “What?”

“You’re so convinced she doesn’t have any affection for you other than friendship, but have you ever asked her?”

“I’ve wanted to a thousand times.”

“And what holds you back?”

Fear. The fear of losing her. The fear of rejection. The fear that he might have to step back and begin to rebuild a life without her in it. Except now there was no stepping back. They were married.

“Relationships change as people change,” Eva said softly.

She was right, of course. His relationship with Ina had morphed several times in the last week. They shared a last name. They shared a house. They’d shared a bed.

We work together in bed, more than I ever dared hope we would.

“Anyway, it’s just something to think about.” Eva rose from her seat. “I’m glad you’ll be joining the Lothian staff, but go home to your wife. You’re no longer welcome here today.”