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She swallowed. “Would…would you roll up your trousers further, please?”

Her calm tone— how had she managed that?— must have fooled him into thinking she was nonplused by the interaction. By the thought of touching his naked leg.

When he did as she asked, she sank to a crouch beside him and Cassian sucked in a breath.

At the unorthodox positioning? Or the knowledge that she could reach out and stroke him so easily from this angle ?

Because that’s what she was thinking.

“I ken it’s ugly,” he announced suddenly, his voice gruff…and Gabby blinked. Is that what he’d been worried about?

Without looking up, she smiled softly. “Truthfully, it is healing wonderfully.” She stroked her fingers over the healed wound, the scars still angry and red.

“These will fade to white within the year.” Her other hand joined the first, and she encircled the leg right below his knee.

“It is the movement you need to focus on. Your prosthetic is well-made, and you clearly have been exercising well.”

When she slowly but steadily pressed her knuckles into the back of his knee, Cassian groaned low and flopped back against the chaise. Gabby sank lower until she was sitting on the floor, her legs tucked beneath her skirt, as she continued to knead his muscles.

“This knee is in danger of suffering greater wear and tear over the years,” she warned as she massaged the sides of it with her thumbs. “Assuming you continue to push yourself. If you focus on your right leg to carry the majority of your weight, you will harm that knee.”

She moved her massage up to the muscle directly above his knee, pressing her thumbs deep, eliciting another groan. Gabby glanced up to see he’d thrown his forearm over his eyes. His lips were parted, and he seemed truly at ease.

Determined to make him relax fully, she slid his trousers up higher and continued to rub the tight muscles.

Just treat him like any other patient. But with less fur.

In places. “The human body has evolved to carry our weight evenly on two legs, the same way dogs—for instance—have evolved for four. And just like dogs can walk with three legs, humans can carry their weight with one…but not at risk to th e remaining limb, which is forced to bear the brunt of their weight.” She was just speaking to hear herself talk now, keeping her words as soothing as her touch.

“A well-made prosthetic will alleviate that burden. I have noticed that you walk without a limp already.”

“Only when I’m concentrating,” Cassian mumbled around his arm. “I still use the cane.”

She had seen him with a cane that first day out on the lawn. Had he used it since then?

“I can imagine that relearning to walk must have been a challenge. You are doing well.”

He made a noise that might’ve been a grunt, and she expected that to be the end of the conversation. To her surprise, after another little moan of pleasure, Cassian took a deep breath.

“When I came to in that hospital, and they told me what had happened—that the doctors had taken my foot…” His arm flopped to his side, but when she risked a peek, he was still staring up at the ceiling.

“I thought I might as well die. No’ being able to walk, or ride, chase after my boy, no’ being able to work… ”

He trailed off, and she began to manipulate his knee, bending and stretching the leg, feeling the tightness pull against her. “Then what happened?” she prompted in a whisper, her gaze on him.

A muscle jumped in Cassian’s jaw, and she thought he wasn’t going to answer. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly, but it held promise. Anticipation.

Then he lifted his head to meet her gaze. “The surgeon’s name was Augustus O’Shea. A local lad. He was introduced as Doctor O’Shea and then one day he told me his first name. Gus. And I realized I couldnae die.”

“Because you had your own Gus waiting for you.”

With a shrug, he dropped his head back again.

Perhaps it was easier not to meet her eyes when Cassian continued.

“The lad was never far from my heart, of course. He was the reason I risked my life over and over, so he’d grow up in a better world.

A world I could help make. But he didnae ken me.

” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I didnae ken him . I was always away, always on a mission. To him, I was just this stranger who occasionally kissed his mother and brought him gifts.”

Gabby’s heart ached for his pain, but at the same time, she could see what was happening; by opening himself up to her like this, she was even more certain that he was a good man.

But was she just trying to convince herself, so she could justify giving herself to him?

She prompted, “So Gus was the impetus you needed. You came home and taught yourself to walk again?”

Cassian snorted, his version of a laugh. “No’ so easy as all that. And Inverlochy wasnae my home …no’ then.”

Her fingers dug into his muscles, trying not to notice the wiry hair, the way the simple touch awakened her body. “It is now.”

As she watched, a slow smile spread across his lips. “Aye,” he whispered, wonder tinging the words. “It is my home. I dinnae have to keep searching for a place for me and Gus, no’ when the lad doesnae want to leave. I can stay here with him, and have a place to belong. ”

“And he will have the time to get to know you,” she pointed out softly. “The time you both need.”

When Cassian lifted his head this time, she saw the joy in his blue eyes. “I ken building back my relationship with my son willnae happen overnight, but I finally feel as if I have the chance. I would’ve never said getting my foot blown off was a blessing, but…”

He trailed off with a shrug, even as her thumbs dug into the tight muscles of his leg.

Cassian was being open and honest with her. Hopefully.

Was this the opportunity she needed?

Dropping her gaze to his scars, Gabby took a deep breath and prepared to ask the questions that truly needed answering.

T o be honest, only the semi-painful manipulations Gabby was subjecting his leg to were keeping Cassian’s cockstand under control.

He was grateful for them, aye, because he could already tell his knee was in better shape…

but he also wanted to bend down and scoop her into his arms and kiss her senseless.

Again.

Just the memory of the way she felt, pressed against him…it was enough to make him groan.

Or perhaps that was her fingers.

In the last few hours, Cassian felt as if he’d gone from too few possibilities…to too many. He had a future, a home, a chance with his son. And he had Gabby.

In his room. Sprawled against him. Her hands on his skin, her mouth mere feet from his…well, him .

She’d wanted him in the barn, back before he had a future. Offered herself to him, no expectations, no promises for the future—she was just interested in some fun, and he was more than happy to oblige. He had to assume that’s why she came to his room tonight… To seduce him?

Well, consider myself seduced.

He let out another groan as her talented thumbs pressed against the back of his knee, bending the whole thing into a stretch he felt up to his hip. Oh, God…

“Cassian, what is it like being undercover?”

The question was so unexpected, he lifted his head to frown at her. “Undercover?”

“You were a spy for the Crown, yes?” She didn’t look up from his leg. “You were deep undercover. What was it like?”

How did she…och, Aunt Zilphia must have told her, of course, during one of their many meetings for tea. Well, what was the harm in telling her? His career was over.

“It’s like…dancing on a fuse. Ye have to keep moving—no’ yer body, but yer mind. Ye cannae rest, or ye’ll allow something to slip.”

She hummed, then peeked up at him through curious lashes. “It sounds exhausting.”

“It could be.” It was . “I dinnae think I’ll miss it. ”

“Since you have been at Inverlochy, have you been resting? Allowing yourself to just be…yourself?”

Lips twitching, Cassian propped his temple against the chaise so he could watch her. “Aye. It’s been my goal to reconnect with Gus. I would never do that under the guise of someone else.”

“You must be truthful to yourself and to him.” Nodding slightly, she bent over his knee again, and he studied the top of her head.

Gabby Butcombe was intelligent, bold, insightful, and witty. Beautiful, aye, but honestly, her beauty wasn’t the first thing he thought of when he conjured her in his mind. The last two weeks, becoming closer, flirting, dancing around one another…he’d learned her mind.

Her heart .

And what he’d learned was far more valuable than any superficial beauty.

“How much research did you do before you began each undercover job?” she suddenly asked, her fingers stroking his leg. “To go from St. Petersburg to Paris to Belfast must have been difficult—did you ever get your identities confused?”

Frowning slightly, Cassian slowly pushed himself from the back of the chaise. How had she known his assignments? Guesswork, likely—she was brilliant, after all, and those were some of the hotbeds of anarchist activity. The newspapers were full of it.

“My handlers made certain I had an exit strategy,” he confessed, “and months of rest in between assignments. I needed time to debrief, time to study everything we knew about the organization. That’s when I was allowed to visit the Highlands—and Gus, as well.”

Gabby hummed, still bent over his leg. She was no longer massaging him, but lightly stroking his muscles. It was unlikely this had any medical benefit, but it was confusing as hell to his body.

His cock was hardening, his chest was tightening, but there was also a sense of unease settling over him.

“And your team?” she asked lightly. “The men who worked with you? You had worked with them for years, had you not?”

“Nay,” Cassian rasped, staring down at her, dread slowly building. “We were only assigned together on that last mission.”