“Right,” he agreed.

“Well that’s part of it. Our relationship wasn’t. I started to realize that I was constantly compromising for him, but he never did the same for me in return. Everything was about him and what he wanted. I want to be with a man who isn’t happy if I’m not happy, and vice versa.”

“That doesn’t seem like too much to ask. That seems fair.”

I scowled. “It’s not just about that, though. I expect a guy who loves me to think of me. A lot. Surprise me, and not simply on birthdays, but just because.”

Craig shifted in his seat, his eyes narrowing. “You mean spend money on you?”

“It doesn’t have to be about money or shiny gifts.” I shook my head adamantly. “It could be about making me breakfast in bed, or taking the dog out in the morning even though it’s my turn just because he’s happy to let me have a long lie for a change. It’s everything and nothing, the big stuff and the little stuff.”

He was giving me this small, tender smile that increased my uneasiness. He wasn’t reacting to my honesty the way I’d hoped he would. “Anything else?”

“He should be territorial without being overly possessive because I don’t like the idea of women flirting with the man I love and I’d hope he’d feel the same way—if only to make me feel better about being the possessive type.”

His gaze turned speculative . . . and heated. “You’re the possessive type? I’d certainly like to see that.”

Where was I going wrong? This was not the way I’d expected a one-night-stander to react to my confession! I huffed and he grinned like he knew exactly what I was trying to do and he was enjoying my failure.

I attempted to relax, realizing that this stubborn man was not going anywhere anytime soon. Unless of course I made the conversation extremely awkward . . . “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I’m not allowed to ask you about growing up in Inverness but you’re allowed to ask a question that heavy?”

I shrugged. “I could just finish my tea and go.”

Craig narrowed his eyes. “Try it and I’ll tackle you.”

I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. “What?”

Amusement lit his eyes. “You heard me. And I’ll answer your question. No. I’ve never been in love. How many times have you been in love?” he immediately said before I could respond to his answer.

“I’m not some fickle creature who falls in and out of love easily. In fact I’ve never been in love. I’ve been close though. I don’t throw my whole heart into the relationship before really getting to know the guy, and by the time I’d gotten to know my past boyfriends they proved themselves not up to the task of loving me the way I wanted them to. And vice versa.”

Craig chuckled. “Are you trying to tell me you’re high maintenance, Rain?”

“Yes,” I answered honestly. “Not with general life stuff or daily living. I don’t nag about tidying up or having the boys around for boxing night or video game night every weekend . . . but emotionally I know I’m high maintenance.” I bit my lip at the confession, surprised I’d given away so much. What was it about him that made me feel so comfortable that I started blurting out these terribly personal pieces of information?

“There must be a reason. Perhaps the reason is in Inverness,” he hedged with a shocking amount of perceptiveness.

Something in my expression must have given me away because Craig’s own gaze softened and he leaned across the table toward me until all I could see was his gorgeous face. “You know when I lost my dad it made me cling hard to the family I had left—my mum and my sisters. It made me really overprotective of them. Like you with Darcy.”

He’d guessed then that I’d lost family. “My parents.” I nodded, unable to look away from his eyes. “I was six. Darcy was four. It was a boating accident. We went to live with my aunt. She was a drunk.”

“Fuck,” Craig breathed. He reached for my hand and secured it between both of his. “I take it things were not good at home.”

I stared at my hand held so tightly in his. My hand looked right in his hold. It felt even more right. I immediately wanted to tug it back, but the warmth, the comfort of his gesture stopped me. “No. Things weren’t good at home.”

“You left Darcy. That’s why you feel guilty.”

“I couldn’t take her with me. My aunt wouldn’t let me and I had no legal right to her. I just had to bide my time . . . but the truth is . . . I could have stuck around. I could have stayed anyway. I was selfish. I was a selfish, self-involved teenager and my sister was left to that woman’s cruelty because of it.”

“You were just a kid.”

Unsettled by his kindness, I released my hand from his grasp and lowered my gaze. “Well, anyway, it’s the reason you should probably turn tail and run.”

“And why’s that?”

I looked up again and put all the sincerity in the world into my eyes and words. “Because other than Darcy, I didn’t receive a lot of affection for most of my childhood. Now I’m greedy for it. I’m someone who’s emotionally high maintenance in a relationship and I’m told it’s exhausting. So there. I’m not who you think I am.”

Craig studied me thoughtfully. “Who do you think I think you are?”