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I snorted. “What would you like me to do? Study the floor when someone introduces me?”

My husband grunted. “Fucking Finn. The ladies always love him.”

I could see why...

Not that I said that, even if it was nice to know his jealousy and possessiveness worked in that way too.

If I could inspire nothing else in him but that, I’d be happy.

“Finn isn’t related to you, is he?” I asked softly,cautiously. That photo in their parents’ hallway wouldn’t stop nagging at me. I guessed it was because I loved a puzzle, but I knew I had to tread carefully

“No. He’s an O’Grady.” His nose wrinkled. “For what that’s worth, which ain’t much. His father was a bastard.”

“I wasn’t sure if he was a second cousin or something.”

“Why? Because we took him in?”

“Well, that, and he looks very much like your uncle. The one in the picture? Frank?”

Brennan frowned. “He does?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. But if he isn’t a second cousin, then...” Casting a look around us, I changed the subject quickly, murmuring, “When you’re here, it’s hard to believe that the city is so close. It’s like being in the middle of nowhere, isn’t it? No people, no crowds, no traffic. No noise.”

“You like it quiet?” he asked, his surprise evident, but I could see I’d set the cogs grinding in his mind.

“Why does that shock you?”

“Because you’re sixteen years younger than me, not older.”

Laughing, I just hitched a shoulder. “I like it noisy when I like it noisy. But for the most part, I appreciate the quiet. You don’t get much of it in our world, so I think that’s why.” I sighed. “Your terrace is peaceful too, that’s why I love it out there.”

“Ourterrace,” he corrected gruffly, drawing my attention his way.

That ratcheted up my joy a smidge. “Our terrace,” I agreed.

“I barely sit out there to be honest,” he admitted.

“You should try to. I’ve been going out there after I wake up.”

“Isn’t it getting cold?”

“I guess, but nothing too unmanageable. I just take a blanket out with me.”

“I’ll get Forrest to bring up some of those patio heaters.”

Though the idea had occurred to me as well, I just said, “You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s New York, Camille,” he said dryly. “It’s gonna be freezing soon. We won’t be able to do this for much longer.”

“The younger horses don’t mind the snow. Terry hates it.” He’d hated it back before I’d left New York, now in his twenties, I knew he’d loathe being out in the cold. My lips curved into a smile. “Vicky used to love the snow. She’d play in it for hours at a time, would even toss snowballs at theboyeviks.”

“I bet they loved that.”

“They didn’t,” I said with a laugh. “But they never complained. Most of them were from Moscow though so they were used to it. Their temperatures make ours look balmy.” I chuckled. “I remember this one time she got a bucket and shoved it full of snow, then she went upstairs to the upper hall, rushing so it wouldn’t melt, and waited, dangling out of the window until someone left the house by that exit, and she poured it on their heads. Then she did it all over again.”

He snorted. “Sounds like a charmer.”

I grinned at him. “When you get to know her, she is.”

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