Yes, he was searching.
He’d told as much to Trent. But wishes and certainties were worlds apart. That he retained a flicker of hope was inevitable, particularly after witnessing Trent’s transformation beneath Ariana’s healing love. But a more extensive idealism? A true conviction that a similar fate awaited him as well?
That flicker had long since begun to extinguish.
He was jaded. Or perhaps self-protective was a better word. In either case, it was easier merely to exist than to withstand the constant ache of loneliness. So, unconsciously, he’d blanketed his heart in a tangible, if not unbreachable, layer—a layer he was ambivalent to allow anyone to pare away.
All the more reason to balk at these powerful feelings.
Then why wasn’t he balking?
Because the same wisdom that recoiled from vulnerability recognized the rarity of a miracle like Nicole. And that wisdom shouted that whatever obstacles blocked his path, he couldn’t let her go.
Nor could he hurt her.
Which led to his ultimate dilemma. How could he have her without hurting her?
“Good morning, Lord Tyreham.”
The object of his thoughts hovered uncertainly in the stable doorway. “I’m not late, am I?”
“No, of course not.” Dustin strode over, absorbing her from head to toe, recalling the perfect curves of her now-disguised body as they’d been the first night they’d met. “In fact, your timing is perfect. My head groom, Brackley, is exercising Dagger—or trying to. As soon as they return, I’ll introduce you to your defiant mount.”
Nicole glanced about, more speculative than concerned. “And the rest of your employees—stableboys, grooms …?”
“Derby, if you’re asking if we’re alone, you can relax. The answer is no. My stables are huge, as is my staff. They’re scattered about, attending to their jobs.”
“Actually, I was wondering if we could be alone. Only for a minute,” she was quick to add.
His curiosity was thoroughly piqued. “Of course. Come with me.” He led her into a small, private room at the head of the stables. “This is my equivalent of an office,” he explained, closing the door behind them and turning to lean back against it. “I keep schedules, papers, and various records here. It’s convenient. It also serves as a bedchamber when one of my horses has a long and difficult night.”
“Do you sleep here when they’re ill?”
“Ill or foaling. Does that surprise you?”
“Surprise me, no.” She shook her head. “But I am impressed. Such dedication is rare, especially with a man who can well afford to hire others to keep vigil for him.”
“Wealth does not preclude commitment, Derby. It’s true I was raised with money. But I was also raised with principles. My father believed the former was a matter of chance, the latter, of character.”
Visibly, Nicole relaxed. “I’m glad to hear that. It should make the chat we’re about to have that much easier.”
Dustin cocked a brow. “Is that what we’re about to have—a chat?”
“Yes.” Again, her gaze darted about.
“We’re alone,” he confirmed. “Now what’s troubling you?”
“The weeks ahead.” For the first time since entering the stables, Nicole abandoned Stoddard’s lower-pitched voice in favor of her own. “I think we should clarify the situation so there are no misunderstandings.”
Damn, her eyes were beautiful. Luxurious amethysts, breathtaking as a rare indigo sunset. Dustin’s gaze swept lower, deliberately focusing on her boyish attire to remind himself that it was Stoddard he faced, not Nicole. Based on her appearance, that should have been easy. Men’s breeches, boots, shirt, cap: her disguise was good—damned good. No one would be able to see through it.
No one but he.
“Lord Tyreham, I insist we state our positions.”
“Which positions in particular?” he managed in a husky voice. “We can explore as many as you like.”
She blinked, innocence rendering her oblivious to his double entendre. “I’d like to discuss a few details of my employment.”