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‘What’s hard is realising that I’m nothing like people’s image of me.’ There was a harshness in his tone that disturbed her.
‘What do you mean?’
He gave a faint smile. ‘People look at me and see a dedicated doctor. Grieving widower. Single father. Doting dad.’
‘I suppose. Maybe. Aren’t you all those things?’
He stared at her for a long moment and then dragged his eyes away and stared up at the sky. ‘Am I?’
He was frustratingly uncommunicative. ‘What are you thinking? You’re obviously upset. Talk to me,’ she urged, and he gave a cynical laugh.
‘You know that men aren’t great at talking.’
‘But you are. When you want to be. I’ve seen you spend hours with patients who are worried about something. You’re amazingly intuitive and a fantastic listener.’
‘Not such a great talker.’
Evanna swallowed. ‘You’ve always talked to me.’
‘That’s true. Funny, that, isn’t it? I’ve said things to you that I’ve never said aloud before.’ There was a long, throbbing silence and then he turned to look at her again. ‘The truth is that I’m not feeling what I’m expected to feel.’
‘I don’t think anyone expects anything, Logan.’
‘Don’t they? I’m supposed to be devastated and far too grief-ridden to even contemplate—’ He broke off, swore softly and ran a hand over his face. ‘I think of Catherine, that’s true, but lately.’
‘Lately?’
He paused and then reached across and took her hand in his. ‘Lately—well, let’s just say that lately a lot of things have changed.’
Evanna didn’t know whether to snatch her hand away or hold on tight. It felt impossibly intimate to be lying together in the dark, touching, even if she knew that, for him, that touch was only a symbol of friendship.
The air around them was still and the heat was stifling, despite the lateness of the hour. They were enclosed by the garden and the silence of a summer evening, disturbed only by the faint barking of a dog from the farm across the fields.
Reminding herself that the whole point of coming up here that evening was to listen to him, she forced herself to ignore the firm press of his fingers against hers. ‘What’s changed, Logan?’ She struggled to sound casual and Logan gave a short laugh.
‘I have. I’ve changed.’
‘Well, I’m sure that’s to be expected. No one could go through what you went through and not change. And I don’t think that there’s a right and a wrong to cope with anything. You just have to do what feels right for you. We all struggle through life in the best way we can, and you do brilliantly.’
‘Do I? Tell me, Evanna, what is the required time for remaining celibate after the loss of a wife? A year? Two years? More?’
‘I’ve never thought about it.’ Startled by the question, she hoped that the darkness hid the sudden rush of colour to her cheeks. ‘I suppose it depends on the individual. You’re a normal, healthy guy, Logan, and surely it’s to be expected that you’d—I mean of course eventually
you’re going to—It’s natural to—’
‘Want sex?’ He didn’t let go of her hand. ‘Is it? Is it natural to be interested in another woman? To be honest, the feeling took me by surprise.’
Was he telling her that he wanted to have sex with someone?
Her heart flipped and she struggled to squash down the sick feeling of disappointment that rose up inside her. This wasn’t about her, she reminded herself swiftly, this was about him. Of course he was going to want sex. He was a healthy adult male in his prime. ‘You’re telling me that you’re interested in other women? I think that’s.’ She hesitated over the word. ‘Great,’ she said firmly. ‘Really great. It means you’re moving on.’
‘Does it?’
‘Of course.’
He turned his head to look at her. ‘You’re not shocked?’
‘That you want a relationship? Of course not. I’m thrilled for you.’
