Her hand was warm, soft, the bones slender and delicate, intimate even with his glove on. He wanted to feel skin on skin, but wanted to keep holding her hand more. He let the contact ease him, let her unwind the tightness in his chest. His eye moved to her as she pressed lips just above his knuckles. He listened to her reassurances, held back his cynical retort. Pimps were only kind when it suited their wallets. As good as Master Ryan was, it didn’t stop him from being a pimp. Her naivety and faith hade his heart ache. The slight urging stirred him from his thoughts but he hesitated to sit. He shot her a smile at the ‘friends’ comment, happy to count her as one of his. “Oh, the knight. No, though if I were less out of practice I could have induced him to. The rape fee Master Ryan could get out of that one would have been...”<br/><br/>His voice dropped away, hearing the music stop. A moment later and Zara entered the room. The woman’s temper was up, it seemed, and all her poison seemed for Fiona. When she turned to him, she became demure and pleasant. He offered her a shallow bow. “Miss Zara, your playing was delightful.” If only she had continued a little longer.<br/><br/>He noticed how the comment about the garden made Fiona blush, and he recalled seeing her run inside as he was having a smoke. Of course, something had happened between them. “Are you all right?” he asked Fiona, seeing how she twisted her book in her hands.<br/>