An Unlikely Alliance (3 page)

The introduction should have caused warning
bells in his brain, but all he could focus on was the mere fact
that his mother's voice held more warmth for this strange man than
normal.

Shaking his head, he cleared his thoughts.
"I presume you are the father of the Miss De Jarlias?"

"Ah, yes." The man touched his bald head and
smiled. "That girl is a rare treat. She's my everything. Why, I
don't know what I'd do without her if she hadn't been here with me
when her mama gone and died on us."

Mr. De Jarlias was single-handedly
butchering the English language. His Southern twang rang in Royce's
ears. Good God, did these people have manners at all?

"Daddy!"

Evelyn joined the group and smiled, tugging
on her father's sleeve like a small child. "I'm ready to go; are
you?"

Royce hid his disappointment. He wanted to
explore Miss De Jarlias more. His brain told him it was mere
curiosity, and his body … well, his body was telling him something
else entirely as he allowed himself another peek at her delectable
form.

Pity she was hiding such curves underneath
that dress. Her father must have made her wear something a little
unfashionable in order to draw less attention. Granted, it was hard
for her not to draw attention, what with her silver blond hair and
violet eyes. A man would have to be dead or blind not to notice
her.

His body nearly groaned in agreement.

"Well, it seems it is time for bed!"

Oh, Lord. He said 'bed.'

"Daddy! We don't say bed in public!" Evelyn
scolded.

Royce wanted to say more than bed in public
but fought against arguing with the poor girl. No doubt she was
tired and famished after fighting him off all night.

"Well, thanks for the invitation. We shall
see you tomorrow!" Mr. De Jarlias hooked his arm into Evelyn's and
slowly walked away.

"Tomorrow?" Royce asked, looking at his
mother.

"Yes, well…" She avoided eye contact and
looked like she was ready to bolt.

"Mother."

"Oh, I do love parties! Don't you, Royce? So
sparkly and fun."

"Mother!" he scolded. "First, sparkly is a
terrible word which, I'm certain, is not in the dictionary. And
two, you're avoiding me like you do Aunt Terrance during Christmas.
Now, what did you do?"

"We are taking them to church tomorrow
morning." Her eyes nervously scanned the crowds, and she took a
large gulp of champagne.

"We?" Apparently repeating the word made it
less true.

"Yes. We." Giving him a patronizing pat on
the head, she glided away, leaving him wondering why he left his
poor mother alone with the girl and her father.

They didn't go to church.

His mother went to church. He slept and
drank and cavorted around with disreputable women.

Did they even allow men like him into a
church? He would find out all too soon.

Chapter
Three

Evelyn awoke from a dreamy sleep. Many of
the dreams were filled with one gentleman in particular. The
sunlight poured in from the curtains, casting a glow across her
face. It was in these moments of solitude that she missed
Louisiana. Even though it was one of the newer American states, it
still had such a rich culture. It was alive with promise and
joy.

It was one of the reasons that despite
growing up on a farm, she was fluent in French and knew how to cook
French cuisine better than the best chefs in New York. At the
moment, all she wanted was some tea and to sit on a porch drowning
in sunlight.

But no, her father had agreed they would
attend church with the McArthurs. She highly doubted that a man
like Royce would be allowed in such a holy place. Wasn't God known
to strike down men like him with a single lightning bolt?

Throwing back the covers of her bed, she
began the task of preparing herself for the day. It was going to be
a long one if she had to sit next to the devil in church.

****

Royce carefully stepped over the threshold
into the church. He wasn't even embarrassed that he closed his
eyes, waiting for God's wrath. Nor was he surprised when several
women in the congregation waited in anticipation for the same
thing. After a few seconds of patiently waiting for his inevitable
death, he took another step and promptly bumped into another
lady.

He was opening his mouth for a perfect
excuse, honestly he was. And then he realized it was Miss De
Jarlias. She looked positively sinful in that dress of blue and
white. He needed to control his arousal. He was, after all, on holy
ground, and he could only deduce he was on borrowed time as it
was.

"Ah, Miss De Jarlias!" He bowed quickly, and
then took her elbow. "You know, I'm pleased we could meet again at
such a great … event." Poor word choice. Dear God, please don't
strike me down. The girl would surely go with me at this range.
Think of the girl!

"I must say, I'm surprised, Mr. McArthur."
Evelyn met his gaze with a cool one of her own and crossed her tiny
little arms.

"Surprised?" He cleared his throat. "What do
you find surprising this beautiful Sunday morning?"

"You. Being allowed in church. You. Not
getting struck by lightning. And again you. Still standing on God's
holy ground after staring at my chest more than twice since we've
bumped into one another."

"Maybe God's giving me a second chance."
Royce managed not to appear as annoyed as he felt that Evelyn had
noticed his lingering eyes. "Or it is possible God is very
forgiving?"

Evelyn snorted. "Or He's waiting to strike
you when you least expect it."

Royce glanced over his shoulder just in case
she was right. He was definitely treading on thin ice, being on
holy ground after the life he had been leading. The only thing that
could make matters worse would be if the preacher stood up on the
pulpit and shouted, "You sinner! Repent or burn!" He shuddered and
silently led Evelyn to his family's pew on the left.

Her eyes looked heavenward as he took his
seat next to hers. "Praying already?"

"For protection."

"From who?"

"The devil."

"Ah, well, I doubt God would let him through
the doors," Royce joked.

Evelyn looked him up and down before
answering. "Too late."

One hour later, Royce was seriously
considering the whole repentance business as the minister continued
to preach about having to stand before God when one dies. He wasn't
sure how he would account for all of the wrong he had done in his
life.

What was to be his excuse? Sorry, God, but
my mistress was a redhead. You know how I like those! Somehow it
didn't seem God would find that amusing, nor would He let certain
sins slide depending on the personal preference of said sinner.

Shaking himself out of his depressing
thought, he took it upon himself to concentrate on Evelyn's legs,
an altogether terrible idea, considering he was in church. His
assessment of the merits of the idea was shortly confirmed when the
lady in front of him, whom he later found out was the minister's
wife, chose that exact moment to turn around and examine the
crowd.

Scowling, she swatted him with her fan and
shook her head, reprimanding him like a small child. Unfortunately,
his response was exactly what one would expect from a small child
as well. The blood rushed to his face, and he jerked his head back
to the minister and the sermon. His gaze never wavered until the
last Amen was said.

Because he spent the second half of the
service terrified that the lady would turn around, he had forgotten
to close his eyes during the prayer, thinking if he just stared
hard enough, she wouldn't turn around and judge him again. It never
occurred to him that ministers' wives didn't open their eyes in
prayer like rakes did.

As the service concluded he jumped out of
his seat, ready for food, wine, and female company. Preferably in
that same order.

"So how about some lunch?" He turned to
where Evelyn had been seated. But she was gone. Panicking, he
glowered down the row, and then turned around suddenly, nearly
knocking over his own mother.

"Dear, what are you doing?" his mother
demanded, waving a hand in front of his face. "Are you ill?"

"No, just hungry. Say, have you seen Miss De
Jarlias?"

"She and her father are around here
somewhere. They're staying for a light lunch with the pastor and
his wife."

Royce meant to shudder on the inside;
instead he couldn't help it as his body convulsed at the thought of
spending more time with the holy man and the woman who'd hit him
with her fan. "No, thanks," he mumbled, stepping away from his
mother. He would have to find another way to spend time with
Evelyn. After all, if she was to be launched this year, she
couldn't spend all her time with people holier than he was. Not
that it would be a difficult feat, since it included over ninety
percent of the population in his city.

What he needed was gifts. And lots of them.
It was sometime during the service he realized he wanted her. Not
necessarily because he needed her. No, that wasn't any part of it.
Nor was he in love with her like some crazy cad. She just seemed
the logical fit, and she was interesting to boot! Any woman who
cried over food and was brave enough to send him to Hades was a
woman he could live with forever. Now all he needed to do was
convince her.

"I don't like that smile," his mother
observed, urging him down the long aisle leading to the outside
doors.

"What smile?" He could feel it growing
wider.

"The one plastered all over your sorry face.
Oh, Lord, forgive him. He knows not what he does."

"Oh, yes, I do."

"You do what?" Her voice was half
pleading.

"Know exactly what I'm going to do."

"And that is?" His mother stopped him in his
tracks and pulled his shoulders towards her.

"The usual: rubies, diamonds, clothing.
Things that shine."

"Are we talking about ways to attract wild
animals?"

Royce chuckled. "Oh, yes. I would most
definitely put her in that category. I do love a good chase."

His mother's face contorted with concern.
"Dear, I very much like them. Her father is a hard-working man,
just like your father, and well…" She didn't finish talking, but
she didn't have to. Royce knew what she meant. No man could ever
hope to compare to his father, which is exactly why Royce never
wanted to try. He could never live up to him. Nobody could. It
upset him that his mother was comparing the two men. It also made
him wonder if what she saw in Mr. De Jarlias was the same
irritatingly attractive thing he saw in Evelyn. He put his hand
around his mother's shoulders. "Don't worry, Mother. She'll break.
The strong ones just take longer."

"I'm not so sure this one is the same as the
others." She pushed past him and strode out of the building,
leaving him with a sickening feeling that she might be right.

Chapter
Four

Evelyn laughed when she saw the shocked look
on Royce's face that Tuesday morning. Apparently the cad had been
by her house four times in the past two days, each time dropping
off little gifts and trinkets fit for a mistress, more so than a
lady. Not that she knew much about mistresses.

Whatever did he expect her to do with
flowers and jewelry? Flowers died, and even though Royce didn't
know it, she despised jewelry and everything it represented. It was
pretty, yes, but having grown up in God's creation, she knew
exactly what she appreciated in life. Her health, being happy, long
walks, ladybugs—things which made her smile and which Royce knew
nothing about.

A loud crash shook her from her thoughts.
Running down the stairs, she barely had time to open her mouth
before Royce was in front of her, looking all out of sorts with
tattered flowers and a vase in his hand. "I heard a noise," she
sputtered, peeking around him to the mess on the floor. Visibly
disturbed, the crouching butler looked as though he would weep
while he picked up tiny shards of crystal.

"I seem to have upset him," Royce muttered,
stuffing the flowers together to create a sad excuse for a
bouquet.

"Little wonder. He sees himself as the
guardian of our precious family heirlooms. He'll never forgive you.
" Evelyn hoped the lie about family heirlooms would evoke some sort
of guilt in Royce's eyes. Instead he pasted on a glorious smile and
knelt down on bended knee.

Oh, Lord.

"Come to the theatre with me."

"No."

"So you mean yes?" Royce lifted an
eyebrow.

"Are we really going to go through this
whole scenario again?" Evelyn, ignoring his plea, walked over to
the door and opened it. "Out."

"Oh, and I almost forgot to mention… I have
this new chef from France. Supposedly he's one of the best in the
world. I've asked him to make us a meal before the show."

Drat her Achilles heel! At least she would
get a free meal out of the deal. It wasn't as if Royce was terrible
company; she just knew what he was about. And he was selfishly only
about getting his own way, whether or not he had to kill people in
the process. He was nothing like the husband or partner she
needed.

"I accept."

"Splendid. I thought you would. You know, I
can be quite—"

"Stop talking. I accept on one
condition."

"Name it, darling, and it's yours." He
lifted his large hand and cupped her chin. Unfortunately the touch
sent shivers all the way down her spine, reminding her just how
dangerous this predator was.

"No more gifts, no more irritating me, and
God as my witness, if you try to seduce me, I'll stab you with my
fork. Are we clear?"

His face, alight with amusement, cracked
into a beautiful smile "Quite clear. Shall we seal it with a
kiss?"