Page 31 of Dark Rover's Luck

He nodded. "I know that I'm a little late, but how about now?"

Her eyes were guarded but not cold. "I already know what I am and what happened to me, but I'm here, am I not?"

It wasn't much, but it was something. A starting point, perhaps.

"You are," Din agreed. "And I'm grateful for the chance you are willing to give me."

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Don't get ahead of yourself, professor. I'm still deciding whether you're worth the trouble."

"Fair enough." He was unable to suppress a smile. "Take all the time you need. I've waited half a century. I can wait a bit longer."

"Ever the patient Scotsman," she said, a hint of her old teasing manner returning.

"Only for things that matter."

Their eyes held for a long moment, something unspoken passing between them—not quite trust, but perhaps the possibility of it.

Somewhere in the background, he noticed that the serve-out counter had closed and that the other patrons had left, but he paid attention only to Fenella, aware of the subtle shift in her demeanor from wary to cautiously receptive.

It wasn't perfect, this reunion. There were still walls between them, histories unshared, wounds unhealed. But it was a beginning, and after fifty years of wondering, of regretting, of imagining this moment, Din would take it.

For now, it was enough that she was here, that she was safe, that she was willing to give him a chance to know the woman she had become.

15

FENELLA

Fenella glanced around the café, noting that most of the patrons had left, and the window at the serve-out counter was closed.

"Soon we will be the last ones here," she said.

Din looked up as if surprised. "So it would seem."

He'd been so focused on her the entire time that it was almost uncomfortable. She'd never had anyone look at her and listen to her so intently. Din was treating every word that left her mouth as if it were gospel. It made her self-conscious, made her think twice before saying anything, and then made her rethink what she'd just said.

It was flattering, but it was also unnerving.

Fenella wasn't used to such intense scrutiny, and she didn't like it.

Was that what other women craved? Was that what they meant by wanting to be seen?

Fenella wasn't sure she could tolerate such intensity for long. Ironically, she would have preferred Max's flippant attitude because then she could have been just as flippant back, and she wouldn't have to allow any emotion to penetrate deeper than the surface.

"Would you like to go on a walk?" she suggested. "We could explore the village together."

Perhaps shifting some of his focus to the sights would ease the burden he was placing on her.

"Of course." He rose to his feet and collected their cups and plates. "I'll just drop these at the bin."

She watched him walk over to where the café staff had left a bin for dirty dishes, admiring his taut backside and fluid walk.

His students must be salivating over him, and she could just imagine how many he had bedded. Now that she knew that voracious sexual appetite was part of what it meant to be immortal, she realized that Max hadn't been the anomaly she'd thought he was back when they had been together.

It also explained her promiscuity during her travels, even when such behavior had endangered her. That incessant drive had been killed by that Doomer, though, and nowadays the only way she could even think about sex was when it didn't apply to her.

He'd killed that part of her, and she hadn't even properly mourned its loss yet.

Well, truth be told, she hoped for a miraculous healing and for her soul to regenerate and return to what it had been before the last shard of faith in humanity had been beaten out of her.