could you tell?” Ross asked.
“A hunch.”
“That’s all? A hunch?”
“And the fact that you offered to take Toby up to bed. If you’d never met the child until recently…”
“I hadn’t.” Ross forced himself to walk away from the sideboard. “Look, it’s not something I want to talk about.”
“Did Mrs. Delvaux bring Toby to the States to see you?”
“No. And please don’t mention any of this to her. She and Toby…” He swallowed. “They might not be in New York much longer.”
“I see.”
“I doubt it.” The impulse to tell Griffin everything gnawed at Ross. He wished he could take the risk of getting drunk. “What do you think of the kid?”
“He seems a fine boy,” Grif said. “He looks very much like his mother.”
“I’d noticed that.” Ross paced across the room. Though it wasn’t small, it seemed far too confining. “He’s only part werewolf,” he said suddenly.
“Is that important?”
“It is to Ji—To Mrs. Delvaux.”
Griffin considered that in silence. “You’re worried about Toby.”
“I want to make sure he has a good life in England,” Ross said. He rubbed his hand across the unshaven stubble on his chin. “Hell. I’ve only known him two days, Grif. And seeing Jill again…”
“Allie told me she’s a widow.”
Ross wondered what sort of conversation she and Gillian had had. “Yeah.”
“Do you still love her?”
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