"Have you ever thought she's six-and-twenty, and not a maid fresh off her father's farm? And she's more than sweetness, and kindness. She's a strong, determined woman who could outthink the lot of us," he growled.
"Have you ever thought she just watched the man she loved marry? And now she wants to start an affair with you?"
He flinched. "I know she did. I know I'm not the one she wanted. But I can't stop her from making a decision like this, and I'll be damned if she goes searching for a remedy with someone who doesn't have her best interests at heart. I'm not going to hurt her, Gemma. Ava's.... You're right, she is too kind. She is vulnerable. There's a part of me that likes her a lot-" Those dark blue eyes locked on him. "Even knowing I can't give her what she truly wants, I'm still tempted. I can't marry her, or offer her a future, or...."
Or worse, children.
He wouldn't do that to a child. The curse ran in his blood, and he wouldn't. He couldn't.
"Can't?" Gemma asked softly. "Or won't?"
His nostrils flared. Jaysus. "Can't," he croaked.
"Kincaid-"
But he held his hand up to forestall her.
"It's possible I've seen the files Malloryn has on all of us," she continued, despite the gesture. Sympathy flashed through her eyes. "I know what he's asked the Royal College of Physicians to look into. I know your uncle is dying, that you were diagnosed only four years ago-"
"I told her," he rushed to say, scrubbing his hands through his hair. A sudden stab of panic made it hard to breathe. "I'm only just starting to display the symptoms. She doesn't understand. She wants to cure me."
And there was no cure for the muscular dystrophy that would eventually stop his heart.
A gentle hand pressed against his arm. Gemma tugged it down, sliding her hands into his, even the mech one. "Is that why you're doing this? Is that why it had to be you?"
He could barely breathe. Orla and Ian were the only ones who knew what he faced. He'd never spoken of it with anyone else. "I don't know. I just wanted her. Ava makes me feel like there's hope in my days. Have you ever looked at someone and felt like you know happiness for the first time in your life? I can't give her up, Gemma. I won't."
Something shifted in Gemma's eyes. "You stupid fool. You love her. How did I not see this?"
He pushed away from her, an odd note of panic echoing in his brief laugh. "Love? What's love to a man like me? Or a woman like you?"
"It's everything we ever secretly hoped for," Gemma whispered. "The type of thing people like us don't get to experience. Losing your heart is dangerous in this line of work. It deceives you as to whom the enemy actually is, and puts blinders on your vision, so you sometimes don't even see the world around you. Or the knife in the shadows. But the temptation always remains."
Now that was interesting. "You've been in love."
Gemma smiled sadly and looked down, the light filtering through the window and striking her black hair. "I thought I was in love. In truth I was living a lie, and I was the one telling it to myself. Malloryn's right. Emotions are dangerous. Love is dangerous."
There was a lump in his throat. "But it's also the one thing that gives a man hope and purpose. What happened?"
Gemma looked away. "It's an old story. A long story."
"Is he still alive?"
"No," she whispered, though she hesitated. "He was a foreign spy, Kincaid. He worked for one of Malloryn's enemies and I was supposed to seduce him, and pretend to be his lover. I succeeded," Gemma admitted. "Too well. It felt real, for the short time we had together. Dmitri and I...." She shrugged, giving a wry smile, as if to guard herself from the emotions she felt. "The truth was revealed, and he shot me, leaving me to plunge into an icy river.
"I don't remember much from that time. Pain. Cold. Trying to break back through the ice, and not being able to. Everything seemed to slow down. I was so scared I was going to die, and so I kept swimming downriver, trying to find a hole in the ice. That was where Malloryn hauled me out. I'd always thought him a pampered, spoiled bastard. Blue blood elite. But he dragged me out from under the ice, and used his own blood to heal me-and infect me. He sat on that frozen beach in wet clothes, rubbing heat back into my hands and feet, despite the fact my stupid feelings for an enemy agent ruined his entire plan and got all his men killed. It's the one reason I owe him my loyalty. He could have let me drown for my failures, but he smuggled me out of Russia and let me go unpunished while I tried to put the past to rest. And now he's giving me a second chance, when I don't really deserve one.