Not that I needed the Highlands as I walked along Beadnell Bay, enjoying one of the most stunning sunsets I’d ever seen. The water appeared dark purple from shore, slowly turning lighter until it was a shimmering pink and then growing darker again toward the horizon. The sky above the horizon was gold edged in orange. But the clouds in the sky were dark pink, shadowed in purple.

Waves lapped gently at the shore, a lulling rhythm that suffused me with peace as I walked barefoot on the sand, my shoes in one hand, Roane’s hand in my other.

Shadow trotted ahead, his nose to the sand, enjoying all the scents he could find there.

We’d spent the evening with Caro after she’d invited us for dinner, and decided to take a walk on the beach before heading back to Alnster. The farther we walked, the fewer people we saw, although there were several dog owners still out on the sand.

Roane and I had been walking in contented silence when he suddenly commented, “You said you’ve never been in love.”

A fluttering occurred in my chest. I had said that.

It wasn’t true anymore, and the words had been on the tip of my tongue for days. But Roane hadn’t said them yet and I didn’t want to push too hard too fast.

“I did say that.”

“I find it hard to believe.”

“Well, don’t.” I shot him an unhappy look. “Before I came here, I was exhausted by dating in Chicago, and that was after a two-year break.”

“A two-year break?”

“From the age of fifteen to the age of thirty-one, I dated. Sixteen years of dating. Three serious relationships among them. There was Chace, and you know all about him. Then there was Brent, who was five years younger. A funny guy but we only lasted five months because everything was a joke to him. He lost his job while we were together and started living off money from his parents, who didn’t have a lot to spare. He didn’t know how to care for himself, expected me to do everything, and threw a tantrum when he didn’t get his way. A year after that there was Devon. We dated for fourteen months until . . .” I winced, still mortified by the consequences of dating Devon.

“Until?”

“Ugh, let me preface by telling you I have regular health checks and I’m good.”

Roane frowned in confusion for a second before it cleared and turned into a scowl. “The fucker gave you something?”

“Chlamydia. And the cherry on top of that cake . . . I went to confront him after my doctor’s appointment. He was a freelance web designer. Expecting me to be at work, he had what I’d soon discover was one of many women on the side over at the apartment. I walked in on him with his head between her legs.”