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He stared after his friend as she made her way down the hallway to her own office, her words playing over and over in his mind.

Have you ever asked her?

Just the thought of it was ridiculous, but Eva had planted the seed in his mind and it was already beginning to take root. What if Ina did want more? What if she’d come to him that night not to address the formality of consummating a marriage or out of natural curiosity, but because she was glad it was he who was in that bed with her?

He wasn’t going to do this now. Fatigue had settled into his bones, and his thoughts were no longer making sense.

Gavin gathered up his papers and stuffed them into a leather case. It was time to go home.

Ina was taking her hair down at her vanity when she heard the clatter of boots against the wood stairs leading up to the third floor where her bedroom lay. Her hands stilled. Gavin was home, but rather than rise to greet him, she studiously went back to the task at hand.

She regretted her ridiculous decision to throw herself at him, but her body couldn’t shake the memory of their shared night. All she had to do was close her eyes to remember his kisses, and an exquisite heat would burst in her chest and pool between her legs, making her squirm in her bed linens and reach her hand between her legs for respite.

She’d touched herself before, seeking satisfaction after vivid dreams or sinking into sleep in the delicious aftermath of a climax. The difference now was Gavin occupied her fantasies. She’d imagine what it would be like to have his hands skim over the wide spread of her hips and his legs between hers. She could almost feel his mouth on her neck, collarbone, and breast, sucking and biting his way down her body as he had. But mostly she wanted his mouth between her legs again. She needed more, but at the end of the fourth day of her marriage it seemed they were at an impasse.

Ina tugged the anchor pin out of her hair and sighed at the simple pleasure of the tight knot undoing itself. It felt nearly as good as loosening her corset at the end of a long day, such freedom and comfort.

She was just gathering up her pins into their little pink box so that Ruth wouldn’t have to bother in the morning when a knock sounded at her door. She started. Each night, Gavin had walked past her room without stopping. Why would he pause now?

“Come in,” she called, drawing the lapels of her dressing gown tighter across her breasts to avoid revealing any hint of her décolletage.

The door swung open as she turned in her seat, and she couldn’t help her sharp intake of breath. She must’ve been blind not to see before the handsomeness of the man who stood before her with his squared jaw and sloping cheekbones. She’d never given much thought to the deep blue of his eyes or the way his blond hair fell in slight waves across his forehead at the end of a day thanks to his habit of pushing it aside when he thought. His height hid his wiry muscle, but she knew now the way his bare shoulders, arms, and back looked.

He didn’t appear any different than on the eve of their wedding day, but she’d changed. Her eyes had opened to the man he was.

“You’re readying for bed,” he said.

“Yes.” Normally talking to him was so easy, but her words had all dried up.

He flicked back his jacket to shove his hands into his trouser pockets. “I won’t keep you long then, but I have some news.”

“Oh?”

“Moray’s offered me a job at the Lothian,” he said.

Any coolness she’d cultivated toward him fell away in an instant. “Gavin, this is wonderful! Does this mean you’ll be writing more often?”

He grinned, happiness shining through despite the tiredness around his eyes. “He’d like a few articles a week to fill out the pages. There will be editing work to do too.”

She knew the struggle to write his second book and its later rejection had eaten at him, because he’d stopped talking about writing almost entirely. But the newspaper would be just the thing to help him reestablish his confidence.

“And he’s paying you a salary?” she asked, her brow arched.

He held her gaze. “Yes. Is that a problem?”

“It would only be a problem if you weren’t being compensated.”

“Why are you always so certain of me?” he asked.

The question startled her. “You’re my friend. Why wouldn’t I be?”

His expression became guarded, just as it had their wedding night. Scrambling to keep him with her, she added, “But it’s more than that. You’re one of the few people who has ever encouraged me to sculpt. You never once told me that it’s not an appropriate pursuit for young ladies.”

“That’s because I see the brilliance in you. You’re a force of nature, Ina.”

“Then why is it so hard for you to comprehend that my belief in you has always been unshakable?” she asked, surging up out of her chair to take his hand. She pressed his palm flat to her chest. “My only regret is that the whole world doesn’t see you as I do.”

He sucked in a breath, and suddenly she was all too aware of how he towered over her, his lips close as he tilted his head down to look at her. She should have pulled back, but she couldn’t. She was frozen in place by his proximity, her entire body firing with the awareness of his unique scent—clean linen, wood smoke, and bottled ink all mixed together.