“So, you and Corcoran really are just friends.”
The blood heir to Stilicho & Sons turned slowly to face the person addressing her. It was one of the annoyances and mainstays of her life, someone who made their living as one of her grandfather’s eyes and ears.
“Adamski.” She gave a sparse acknowledgement.
“You and Corcoran aren’t an item.” He, probably a he, closed the distance between them with casual physical confidence. “Your grandfather wanted to know.”
“Define ‘item’ please.” Crisiant Stilicho had no qualms about discussing her private life with this person. Adamski probably knew more about it than she did. Sometimes she learned things.
“Physically intimate.” With a raised eyebrow Adamski added, “Your grandfather’s definition, not mine. His concern is that his negotiations for continuation of the bloodline will be honoured.”
“And what’s your definition?” Adamski said some very interesting things sometimes. Maybe another would be added to the one already dropped into this conversation.
“Emotional intimacy counts, despite your grandfather’s views. Are you and Corcoran emotionally intimate?” That question’s answer could be a weapon in the wrong hands. Adamski was good at asking those questions.
“Corcoran’s my friend. I was born into my family. Business and family will select my allies. My family will choose whom I marry and breed with. My children will repeat the cycle.” Crisiant paused for emphasis. “Friendship is the one relationship I have control over. My friendship with Corcoran is the closest relationship I can choose to have with anyone. Are we emotionally intimate? In some ways, yes.”
“Do you think a husband would object to your relationship with Corcoran?” Adamski was looking...sympathetic. That was new.
“Not if his family’s from our circles.” No point in not being blunt about it.
“And could Corcoran accept you being physically intimate with your husband?”