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Her hands stilled, but she didn’t look up. “Then you were not as loyal to one another as you could have been?”

Fook .

Dread pooled in his stomach. Dread and…disappointment?

Should have fooking realized.

She was asking the same sort of questions he’d been expecting from someone else. A spy .

How had he misjudged her intentions so drastically?

Cassian sighed in defeat. “They were my friends . I’d only worked with them for the one mission, but we’d been together for nine months straight by the time it all went wrong. I knew them better than I knew my wife and son. I wouldnae hurt them. ”

He saw her shoulders expand as Gabby took a deep breath, then she raised her gaze to his. He saw no pity in her eyes; he saw nothing . She was keeping her thoughts hidden from him on purpose.

“They are dead now,” she stated, coldly and succinctly, and he knew the truth.

And so did she.

“I’m a fool,” he muttered, looking away. She’d tricked him. “Christ, fook .”

He pulled his leg from her grasp in one swift movement and sat up straight, digging his fingertips into his left thigh, well aware of how vulnerable he was, reclining on a chaise with only one leg.

But Gabby made no move to rise and tower over him.

Instead she pulled herself up to perch beside him, still watching him.

He refused to meet her eyes, and instead judged the distance to his false foot.

Could he reach it and get it strapped on, or would he be forced to hop out of here, away from her—and to go where?

This was his damned room! If he began to yell for help, who would come to his aid—and could he stand the humiliation of being rescued ?

“Cassian…” Gabby murmured, reaching for him.

But he flinched away. “ Jesu Christo , I thought…”

“What did you think?”

He closed his eyes, stomach souring at the thought of how badly he’d fooked this up. Days of flirting, a week of laughter, of sharing his dreams with her, of trusting her .

Fooking hell.

He sighed and acknowledged the truth. To her. Yet again.

To the darkness behind his lids, he admitted, “I thought I could trust again. I was so bloody tired of having to be aware every moment, I thought I could rest.”

Her fingers closed around his wrist. “Because you were home.”

Her tone wasn’t mocking. It was…soft. Understanding.

Of course, she would have been well briefed.

“I kenned they would send someone after me. I just thought I’d be smart enough to…” He twisted his head to pin her with a glare. “Smart enough to recognize a fellow spy.”

Her lips curled almost ruefully. “Well, to be fair, you did recognize me.”

Eventually .

And no’ before trusting ye.

“To be fair,” Cassian spat right back, “ye’re shite at investigation. Ye need to lead the mark to reveal information, no’ ask outright questions.”

She shrugged unrepentantly. “I am not the best at subterfuge.”

Nay, not his Gabby. She was bold and unapologetic—for herself or her actions. It was one of the things he admired most about her. Had admired.

And now, one of the things which would condemn him .

With a low curse, Cassian pulled his hand from her hold and ran it through his hair. “I cannae believe I trusted ye. I cannae believe I thought?—”

Allowed yerself to think. To hope.

Aye, he’d been so caught up with his hope for a future with Gabby—fook, even a dalliance, a bit of fun!—that he’d missed all the obvious signs.

She wasn’t here to dally with him. She was here to condemn him.

And he’d been too caught up by his cock and heart to notice.

“ Fook ,” Cassian muttered again, sighing in defeat. “What do ye want to ken?” he asked dully, scrubbing his hand down his face. “Yer handlers are waiting on yer report, I suppose? I’ll cooperate as best I can.”

“I am not a spy, Cassian.”

At her ridiculous claim, he snorted and shook his head.

Why would she lie at this moment?

Why no’? She’s been lying this whole time, aye?

He felt her move closer, felt her heat press against his side. “I am not a spy,” she repeated. “I am…well, I suppose you could call me a detective. Not a very good one, obviously, but…”

From the corner of his eye, he saw her hands fold in her lap, and was surprised by how hard he had to resist the urge to reach over and gather them in his, twine his fingers through hers .

Ye dinnae need to be comforting her, ye dobber! Ye need to figure out how to get out of here !

Sitting forward with a nonchalant grunt, Cassian began to roll down his trouser leg, just to give himself something to do. “A detective, no’ a spy? Ye’re certainly no’ a doctor?—”

Her laugh startled him, and he supposed he deserved it. She had made his leg feel better, had she not?

Aye, but she lobbied too hard to get here into my room to “examine” the damned leg. I should’ve kenned then .

When Gabby’s hand closed around his arm again, Cassian hissed, almost throwing her off. Instead, he took a deep breath and turned to scowl at her. “Ye have another lie for me?”

“I am a good doctor,” she told him, pride—and something like hurt—sparkling in her midnight eyes as she lifted her chin.

“It was the reason I was given this assignment. My uncle—well, sort of uncle—owns a detective agency, and was given a case from the Crown to find out the truth about you. Since Sir Dickie needed help with his elephant, Bull—my uncle—thought I would be the best choice.”

He frowned. “Ye mean, coming to Inverlochy as yer brother’s secretary?

” Then why didn’t her uncle give the assignment to Hunter?

Perhaps he did. Hunter has been trying to ingratiate himself with ye every chance he gets, which isnae many, seeing as how Sir Dickie has him ensconced in the elephant barn.

Christ, it all made sense now.

“I mean, sending me to Inverlochy at all. I really am not trained as a detective, Cassian, that is the truth. Bull just thought I might be able to get…close enough to learn some things.”

Snorting, he tried to pull away. Her grip wasn’t tight, but somehow, he couldn’t make himself… Instead, he found himself caught up in her dark gaze, studying her face, looking for more lies.

“Ye got close enough,” he muttered. “In the stables…”

Her cheeks began to pinken. “I…” A deep breath. “I was not thinking of my uncle or my assignment then, Cassian. And I was not thinking of it—not entirely—when I came to your room tonight.”

“Why did ye come, then?” he murmured.

Now Gabby’s hold tightened, but she dropped her gaze to where her fingers wrapped around his forearm.

“Because of you,” she whispered. “I…I think you are a good man, Cassian. I see you with Gus—with Dickie and Zilphia. I would not give myself to a bad one. I do not know the details of your last mission, but I…I do not think I need to know them to know you.”

His eyes had widened slightly at her confession, glad she couldn’t see him.

What had happened to his fifteen years of undercover training? Of knowing how to hide his real thoughts and responses? Of knowing how to show the other person what he wanted them to see?

He’d forgotten everything he’d ever learned when confronted with Miss Gabby Butcombe.

Cassian cleared his throat. “I cannae tell ye the details,” he finally confessed. “The Crown has sworn me to secrecy?— ”

Her gaze slammed up to his. “The Crown! Bull’s patron is…” She shook her head. “I cannae say. But perhaps…” Her nose scrunched in thought. “I wonder if we could help you.”

It was sweet and brave of her to want to try—but that was the woman he was coming to know: caring and kind, and bold enough to help.

Still, such a thing was impossible to imagine.

Cassian shook his head. “All I can tell ye is that I never betrayed the Crown’s interests or my country. Everything I did—everything my men did—was for our country.”

Gabby’s lips curled slightly, sadly, as her hand began to move up and down his forearm. “I believe you,” she finally whispered. “But Bull—my uncle, he will demand specifics?—”

“I cannae tell ye, lass. I would if I could, and I’m sorry for it.” It was impossible to keep the bitterness from his tone when he spat out, “I would do anything to publish the truth about my men—they died as heroes, and no one kens that.”

Curse the Prince and his blithe demand for secrecy!

She was studying him, but he saw only acceptance, not disappointment in her eyes. If he thought he was through being surprised by Gabby, he was wrong—and was about to be proved even more wrong.

“How can I help?”

He reared back at her offer. “What?” he rasped.

Gabby shrugged. “I have written four times to Bull, each time explaining how utterly useless I have been here in Inverlochy. I could write again and ask him for whatever you need. Or I could help you here, in whatever you need to reach the point where you can reveal the truth.”

Cassian stared.

She…

She thought he was a good man.

She believed him. Believed in his innocence.

The realization was…stunning.

Swallowing Cassian turned again, uncertain what to do, how to react. He pressed his back against the chaise and stretched out his legs, one be-footed, one not. His toes were bare, and he curled them into the fur rug she’d been sitting on earlier.

And then, as he stared down at his remaining foot, another joined it.

Gabby had stretched her legs out beside him, her skirt hiked up just enough to reveal her feet. Her bare feet. Her slippers had come off when she’d been curled against him earlier, and she wore no stockings.

Why?

The sight of her delicate toes affected him more than he thought possible.

As his cock began to harden again, Cassian shifted, hoping to hide it.

“Gabby…”

Her foot moved, brushing against his, and at the same time she moved her hand forward to close around his own. This meant her breast was pressed against his upper arm, and his throat suddenly went dry, feeling like a green lad.

Because, unless he was mistaken…she wasn’t wearing a corset.

Fook.

She’d come to his room tonight with a very clear purpose, and he was tired of fighting it.

If she thought being intimate with him would lead him to spill his secrets, she was wrong. He was forewarned now, and knew well how to tell a woman what she wanted to hear without revealing his own heart.

Except…

This was Gabby. Who trusted him. Who believed him. Whom he hadn’t known last month but now felt he knew better than himself.

Who thought he was a good man.

“Gabby…” Cassian tried again, then swallowed past his dry throat. “I was born a bastard.”

She wriggled slightly. “I was as well.”

“But I was raised as a gentleman.”

“And I was raised as a lady.”

“And as a gentleman, I feel I ought to warn ye…”

There was something…something important .

Something he needed to pay attention to.

And he would , just as soon as he could pull some of the blood away from his cock to sustain his brain.

Because at this moment, with her all-but draped across him, and her lips inches from his, all he was thinking was Gabby Gabby Gabby ?—

“Yes?” she whispered, mischief in her eyes.

“If ye dinnae get up and leave now, Gabby, I am going to kiss ye.”

There. It was said.

The choice was hers now.

And when she pushed herself away? When she stood up and stared down at him, her expression unreadable?

He had to fight to keep his disappointment from showing.

Her choice, man .

“But Cassian,” she said smoothly, looking down at him, her tone wicked. “I do not want you to kiss me.”