“Have mercy, sir. I won’t be late again.” Evanston exuded the optimism of a man who believes his own lies.
“If you want mercy, go to your priest.” Adam pinned Evanston with a look, long enough for the cove to start shaking in his boots. “Leave the locket. I’ll consider it interest for the amount you owe. Which, by the way, has doubled for next month.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Clearing his throat, Evanston said hopefully, “Would you consider extending some extra credit—”
“Do you enjoy being Kerrigan’s punching bag? Get out before I have him throw you out.”
“Right-o!” Evanston leapt to his feet, bowing all the way to the door. “See you next month!”
Shaking his head, Murray went to close the door. “See you next month.Evanston says that as cheerfully as if you’re his best crony. If one didn’t know better, one would think he missed you during your absence.”
“A moneylender is a gentleman’s best friend,” Adam said wryly.
“By God, you haven’t changed at all.” Murray grinned. “Good to have you back, Garrity.”
“It’s good to be back.”
That was the truth. The moment Adam had walked into his spacious, well-appointed office, he’d felt a sense of belonging. A king—or sultan, he’d thought with a private smile—returning to his rightful throne. He’d spent the morning reviewing matters of priority with Murray then transitioned to meeting with clients in the afternoon.
All of it had come as naturally as breathing. The business of being a moneylender, of assessing risk and benefit, seizing upon opportunity and, aye, collecting his just dues, suited his nature. It gave direction to his ruthless ambition and drive, his bone-deep need to achieve success. And he didn’t give a damn what anyone thought of it.
Murray sprawled in the chair vacated by Evanston. “How was your trip to Hertfordshire?”
Memories heated Adam’s blood. In truth, thoughts of Gabby had been a threat to his concentration throughout the day. As much as he enjoyed his return to work, he missed having her near. Hearing her sweet voice as she chattered on about some domestic matter, smelling her perfume, holding her soft, curvy body against his…
“From the way you’re smiling, I’d say you enjoyed the time with your lady very much.”
Seeing Murray’s waggling brows, Adam quickly firmed his lips. “Stop being an idiot.”
“I was wrong before: youhavechanged.” Murray studied him with lazy hazel eyes that hid a razor-sharp mind. “Why, Garrity, I believe you are a man in love.”
Adam returned the other’s stare with a pointed one of his own. “Doyouwish to have a session with Kerrigan?”
“Love is naught to be ashamed of. Despite his best intentions, no man is immune to it. Take my older brother, for instance,” Murray said airily. “Carlisle was a confirmed bachelor, a practical soul who wouldn’t know a poem if it smacked him in the nose. Yet one nudge from my lovely sister-in-law Violet—and by nudge, I mean she literally pushed him into a fountain—and he toppled straight into Cupid’s arms.”
“Is there a point to this soliloquy?”
“A sensible man guards his heart; a smart man knows when to yield it.” Murray’s brows lifted. “With a wife like Mrs. Garrity, you’d be a fool to withhold your heart—or any of your organs.”
“Mention my wife’s name in the same sentence as ‘organs’ again, and I will personally tear you from limb to limb.”
“Protective, aren’t we?” Murray held his hands up in a placating gesture when Adam began to rise. “All fun aside, may I say how glad I am to see you fully recovered? I know these past weeks have not been easy on you or Mrs. Garrity.”
Settling back into his chair, Adam gave the other one last warning look. “My wife has been an angel. No man could ask for more.”
“I’m glad you finally realize your good fortune.”
Something in Murray’s tone made Adam frown. “Are you implying that I did not before?”
Did the other know something about Adam’s past? About why he’d kept a deliberate distance from his own wife? He had committed himself to moving forward in his marriage, to not waste time trying to unearth old history when he could spend that energy loving his Gabriella. But if there was something Murray knew…
“Just a feeble attempt at humor,” Murray said easily. “Enough about you, let’s talk about a more interesting subject: me.”
Adam couldn’t tell if the other was lying, but he decided to let it go. For now.
He steepled his fingers. “What about you?”
“I’ve landed us a trio of new clients. All newly come into their titles and all horse-mad, with a convenient penchant for betting on the wrong horse. We’re going to make a fortune—”
