He didn’t look at her, his eyes on the sea before them. His jaw was tight now, muscles bunching as he gritted his teeth. He wouldn’t tell her, and she’d had no right to ask.
“I’m sorry, I should not have asked you that.”
“He knows the story and will tell you if he wishes to.”
“Of course.”
“But I will tell you that it was not by choice that I turned my back on Gus. Another played a hand in that.”
“I’m sorry that someone hurt you,” Dorrie said softly.
He turned to look at her. Those eyes of his still held nothing that she could read.
“How do you know he hurt me?”
“Because I overheard Gus telling Somer you are very different from the man he once knew. Something changed you.”
Their eyes held.
“The change in me is not the fault of anyone but myself.” The words were cold.
“If you were once someone else and changed, why is it possible not to change back again?”
His laugh held no humor.
“You are naïve and innocent to believe such a thing, Miss Sinclair. Too much water has passed under the bridge for me to be what I once was. I have traveled the world and seen things you could never imagine. Do not attempt to tell me I can once again be who I was.”
“I am neither naïve nor innocent. I am very aware of the world around me and what can or cannot happen, sir. My family have survived pain and trauma and still hold strong. We are a result of the belief in change, and that love and family can play a part in that. Do not think me a fool,” Dorrie said, feeling the wonderful heat of anger replace the numbing grief.
“It was not an insult, Dorset. I was stating facts.”
“As was I,” she snapped.
“And yet you are angry.”
She was about to tell him she wasn’t, but that would be a lie.
His finger traced under her eyes. “You need sleep.”
“I will get it when this is done.” She didn’t pull back. Nor did she lean into his touch as she wanted to.
Dorrie was hugged at least five times a day by members of her family. She missed that contact and comfort. Looking at his chest, she thought it would be a nice place to rest her weary head again for a few brief seconds.
She turned to look out to sea and eat a bite of her apple.
“What was Gus like when you first met him?”
“Your brother held himself back and did not show emotion—like you. He came to see James because Samantha made him, but he didn’t want to stay. That soon changed.”
The hand he rested on his thigh fisted.
“James was insistent that he be part of his life. We went about ensuring he felt welcome, no matter how hard he fought against it. But we wore him down. Somer especially.”
He snorted. “I had planned to stay a day and no more, and yet here I am.” His tone was dry. “Somehow, Cambridge even managed to get me to the races.”
“Cam has a way about him that can get most people to do what he wishes.”
“I’ve never met anyone like him.”
