He thought about Florence and the initial assumptions he’d made based on her appearance and background. How wrong he’d been. She’d proven fiercely intelligent and utterly fearless. Not to mention absolutely enthralling. “I have no doubt you are correct.”

Mrs. Greene sipped her drink and studied him over the rim of her glass. “In fact, you probably assume I’ve brought you here to talk you out of buying my home.”

“I had, actually, assumed as much.”

“You would be wrong. I hold no illusions about changing your mind. My son has explained your reasons and, while I wish it were otherwise, I cannot fault the emotion that drove you to take my home.”

She couldn’t? Flummoxed, he took a long swallow of the best bourbon he’d ever tasted. Smooth and rich, the liquor was even better than the kind he usually stocked. “Then why have you asked to see me?”

“It’s about my granddaughter.”

Surprise knocked the air from his lungs. He could feel his skin heating—and he hadn’t blushed since boyhood. Christ.

“I see I’ve surprised you,” she said, a soft smile twisting her lips. “I am fairly direct. It can take some getting used to.”

A trait she shared with Florence, who had never hesitated to speak her mind around him.

Calling on years of practice, he wiped any trace of emotion from his face. “You said something about your granddaughter?”

“She’s come to me, quite upset about her role in all this. She feels guilty for befriending the enemy.”

Befriending. Such a tame, useless word for what occurred between them. More like a life-altering collision. Two locomotives steaming down the tracks before they slammed into one another, forever changing the structure of their separate halves.

“And?”

She raised a gray brow. “I know my granddaughter almost as well as I know myself. And, based on her appearance and demeanor these past few days, I’m able to hear what is left unsaid. So tell me. Why is she walking around as if her heart has been broken?”

Though he was the cause of it, he hated to hear of Florence’s unhappiness. What did you expect? You stole her grandmother’s home. He cleared his throat. “Presumably you mean well, madam, but this is hardly your concern.”

“We’ll need to disagree, then. I understand the circumstances are less than ideal but she is my favorite granddaughter. I wish to know what happened between the two of you.”

Keeping his expression completely neutral, he paused and tried to collect his thoughts. He certainly couldn’t tell her the truth. “I am a very private person, Mrs. Greene. I’d rather not share the details of my relationship with your granddaughter.”

“How do you feel about her?”

“Why?”

“Because I care about her.”

So do I.