“Speaking of our host—have you noticed anything odd about him?”
“Odd how?”
“His behavior runs hot and cold at what feels like a whim. Not to mention the constant disappearing act.”
You have no idea,I thought, remembering the heat in Kiernan’s eyes.
“He’s a private man,” I said. “Some people are.”
“Privacy is one thing. This feels more like reclusivity.” Oliver returned to the table. “Maybe I’m paranoid. Occupational hazard.”
I forced a smile. “I empathize.”
We finished breakfast in silence, then separated. I told Oliver I had work to catch up on—a fib, but he didn’t question it.
I’d brought a book from London, but the words blurred on the page. My mind kept returning to the same questions, the ones I couldn’t answer no matter how many times I turned them over. I’d read articles about polyamory, seen it discussed as if it were perfectly normal, but those people seemed confident in their choices. Enlightened while I was confused, believing there was a flaw in my wiring that made me incapable of wanting what I was supposed to want—one person, one love, one neat and tidy relationship.
That wasn’t all that troubled me. I kept thinking about the way my body had softened when Kiernan looked at me, the way I’d longed to bare my throat and wait for his instruction. I’d never known that with anyone. I’d always been the one in control—in bed, in relationships, in every part of my life. I didn’t yield. I didn’t submit. Except apparently I did, for him, and wanting it made me feel like a stranger in my own skin.
I set down the book and stood, too restless to sit any longer. The room became suffocating, as though its elegant furnishings were closing in around me. I needed air. Movement.
I stood in the corridor, not knowing which way to turn. The main staircase was to my right, and it led tothe grand hall. To the left, the passage wound deeper into Greymarch’s maze of rooms and hallways, where the library was and the west tower stood.
I turned left.
My footsteps echoed off the stone walls as I walked. Greymarch was quiet at this hour.
The library wasn’t hard to find. I’d memorized the castle’s layout during our first day here, an old habit from training. Know your exits, your routes, and the geography of any space you might need to navigate in a crisis. I hadn’t expected to use that knowledge like this.
The door was similar to others I’d seen, except a more modern lock had been added. Was Kiernan somewhere on the other side of it right now? Maybe working at a desk, reviewing ledgers or correspondence? Or was he doing exactly as I was—thinking about what had passed between us?
I almost knocked, but didn’t.
What would I say?You told me you wanted me, then you ran, and I haven’t been able to think about anything else since?That was hardly the basis for a productive conversation. I could demand explanations, but he’d made it clear he wasn’t ready to give them. I could confess myown desires, but the thought of that vulnerability made my stomach clench.
I lowered my arm and stepped away. Some battles weren’t meant to be fought head-on. Some required patience, strategy, and the willingness to wait for the right moment. I’d learned that in my career. I could apply it here.
I returned to my room the way I’d come, leaving the library and its occupant undisturbed. Once there, I sat on the window seat Oliver and I had shared. The perch had a clear view of the grounds, the hills, and the ever-changing Highland sky. I curled up on the cushions and watched the clouds roll across the gray expanse overhead, letting myself feel what I’d been fighting since we arrived here.
I wanted him.The admission landed with the weight of truth too long denied. I yearned for Kiernan Lockhart with an intensity that frightened me, and I had no idea what to do about it.
The suite door opened, and Oliver stepped through. I was struck again by how much better he looked. The shadows beneath his eyes had faded, and color had returned to his cheeks. He walked with more certainty now, less of the halting steps of a man guarding against vertigo.
“There you are.” He crossed to where I sat and settled beside me, near enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body. “I was starting to think you’d vanished too.”
“Too?”
“As Millie told us at breakfast, our host has made himself scarce.” He stretched his legs out until his feet nearly touched mine. “Not that I’m complaining, since it means more time with you.”
I studied him. Six months of working together had turned a colleague into someone I trusted, someone who made me laugh, someone whose absence would leave a hole I couldn’t fill. I couldn’t lose this. Whatever was happening with Kiernan, whatever these feelings meant, I couldn’t let them cost me Oliver.
I craved them equally, but what if keeping one meant losing the other? I couldn’t bear making the choice.
The hint Oliver dropped was clear. I should have said a quip in return, acknowledged the flirtation while keeping it safely contained—that was what I would have done a week ago, what the version of me who existed before Kiernan’s confession would have done without thinking.
Instead, my eyes traveled over his face, along the cut of his jaw and the curve of his mouth. He was beautiful. I’d always thought so in an abstract way, the same way oneacknowledges that a sunset is breathtaking or a piece of music is stirring. But sitting here with him so close, with the memory of Kiernan’s confession burning through me, that detachment was gone.
“Phee?” His voice was soft. “What are you thinking about?”
