Lindsay shook his head. “As I said earlier, Francis and I are friends. That’s all.”
“You said ‘dear friends,’” Drew muttered.
Lindsay suppressed a smile—he couldn’t help but enjoy what looked quite a bit like jealousy. His wolf liked it too.
“Wearedear friends,” he said. “We’ve known each other a very long time. That doesn’t mean there’s anything more between us.”
Some of the tension seemed to go out of Drew at that. He exhaled a long breath, his gaze on the Turkish rug below his feet.
“Drew?” Lindsay prompted, after several silent moments, relishing the intimacy of using his given name.
Drew glanced up and their gazes met. Something about that eye contact soothed Lindsay in some inexplicable way. It set something right inside him, as though Drew was a key and Lindsay a lock and they fit together perfectly. And Christ but there was something frightening about that discovery, the realisation that Lindsay could feel like this.
Perhaps Drew felt the same way because he dragged his gaze away, muttering, “I shouldn’t have come,” and began to move towards the door, adding under his breath, “God knows why I did. There’s no purpose to it.”
Lindsay stepped into his path, laying a hand on Drew’s arm. “I’m glad you came,” he said in a driven tone. “Drew, listen, I’mglad—don’t go yet.”
Drew looked at Lindsay and his gaze was tormented. “I really do have to go,” he said. “I’m sorry I disturbed you. I’ll let you get back to your friend.” Shaking off Lindsay’s hand, he stepped away and reached for the door handle.
“PleaseDrew. Wait—”
Drew froze with his hand on the door handle but didn’t turn around. “What is it?”
“Just tell me why you came tonight. There was some reason. What was it?”
Lindsay wasn’t sure what he expected. Perhaps he was hoping for an admission of overwhelming lust, some need or desire he could turn to his advantage. Perhaps he was hoping Drew would turn and grab hold of him. Pull him into a passionate embrace.
But Drew did neither of those things, merely bent his head in defeated surrender so that he looked hopeless. Lindsay’s chest tightened painfully to see him like that. So tormented and unhappy.
A dark and creeping guilt began to grow in Lindsay’s gut. He’d brought Drew to this, pressing him into an intimacy it seemed he wasn’t ready for.
“Drew, I—”
“I came because I needed to know you were all right.”
Lindsay stared at him astonishment, and as though his attention was a magnet, Drew slowly turned to face him.
“After you ran off like that last night,” he went on, “I was worried you might have been accosted again. It was driving me mad, not knowing if you’d got home safely. It’s been all I could think about, all day.”
Lindsay’s heart was thudding hard now. “Didn’t Mr. Wildsmith tell you I was perfectly fine—when you first called, I mean?”
“Yes, but I wanted”—he made a noise of frustration—"Christ, this is stupid!”
“What?” Lindsay whispered.
Drew glared at Lindsay, his face flushed. “I wanted to see for myself. There. I told you it was stupid.”
Itwasstupid. More than Drew could possibly guess. Yet Lindsay’s throat closed at the admission, so angry yet so perfectly honest. That was Drew Nicol for you. Not an easy man, but an honest one.
Before Lindsay could say anything in response, Drew muttered, “I have to go,” and turned away again, yanking the door open and striding out of the parlour. Lindsay’s wolf urged him to follow but he ignored the beast’s demands, forcing himself to respect Drew’s obvious need to be alone. Instead, Lindsay stood where he was, listening to the brief rumble of Wynne and Drew’s voices in the corridor outside, the grate of the latch as Wynne let Drew out.
And then Drew was gone, tripping down the stone steps and heading back up to the Lawnmarket.
Lindsay lowered himself into an armchair and closed his eyes.
Had he really thought he could have a simple dalliance with Drew Nicol? He realised now what a colossal mistake that had been. His feelings for this man were sudden and complex and overwhelming. Unprecedented in all his long life. Lindsay didn’twantto have these feelings, not for anyone. Least of all for a man like Drew Nicol, who took every moment, every action, every word so God damned seriously, as though everything mattered.
As thoughanythingmattered.
