An Unlikely Alliance (7 page)

His rakish habits clearly were in need of
redemption, but all he could think about was the easiest way to get
her into his arms. The good news of the whole night, and possibly
the solution to his problem, was his plan had worked.

She was concerned about her daddy, and he
was equally concerned about his mother, but he knew her to be a
tough woman who could take care of herself. It also provided him a
good excuse to be with Evelyn. All he needed to know was where
their parents would rendezvous next. He would take Evelyn there,
and it would be another excuse to spend time with her.

Smiling, he reached around the small bar in
the room and drew out a bottle of wine.

"What's that for?"

"Us," he answered, retrieving two crystal
flutes. "To celebrate a night of exceptional spying."

Taking the glass he offered, she began to
sip ever so daintily, then downed the whole thing. "That was
good!"

"Ah, yes. This is another one of our many
businesses. We make the best wine you'll ever taste. Would you like
some more?"

She nodded eagerly, and he poured another
glass and then sat on the floor, patting the marble for her to join
him. Hopefully her beautiful bottom wouldn't get too cold from
sitting on it.

"So tell me," he crooned, taking a deep sip
and closing his eyes, "what do you miss?"

Evelyn met his gaze. "What do you mean?"

"Ah, you can try to hide behind that
beautiful smile, and you can pretend you love it here, but I know
how New York really is. It's not the adventurous South. So tell me,
what do you miss?"

She let out a long sigh and put her glass on
the floor next to her. "I miss the weather. Sometimes it would get
so humid I could scarcely breathe, but I loved it. That and the
fireflies."

"Fireflies?"

She bit her lip thoughtfully. "Yes. Tiny
little bugs that light up at night. They're beautiful. I used to
catch them in jars."

"Fireflies," he repeated. "Do we have them
here?"

"I'm not sure. I've never looked."

"Should we go hunting for some?"

Evelyn threw him a silly smile and shrugged.
"I doubt we would find any."

"But…" he pushed himself off the floor and
held out his hand. "It's an adventure, is it not?"

Her gaze met his quizzically as she put her
hand in his. "Yes, I guess it is."

"Excellent."

****

Two hours later they still hadn't located
any fireflies, but Royce couldn't remember ever having such a
wonderful time with a woman. Odd, because none of the time spent
with Evelyn that night had included anything physical, unless he
counted the numerous times he had tripped over rocks in his own
backyard.

"I found something!" Evelyn yelled.

He ran over to her and laughed. A bunny
rabbit was hopping around the tree by the garden. "I don't think
we're fast enough to catch him," he said.

"You're probably not, but I am," she
challenged and pushed him as she ran after the tiny animal.

Naturally, Royce felt the need to prove his
manhood and run after her. Unfortunately he didn't see the giant
rock near his foot and tripped, tumbling to the ground and pulling
Evelyn down on top of him in the process.

He moaned in pain. "I think it got
away!"

Evelyn, still on top of him, laughed. "Yes.
If it weren't for your tripping, I'm convinced he would be my pet
now!"

"I'll buy you a bunny, if I don't have to
catch it myself!" Royce pushed the cloak from her head and tugged
on a piece of stray hair. It felt like silk between his fingers.
His breathing suddenly grew ragged, and he looked into her
eyes.

"I'm going to kiss you now." He didn't
recognize his own voice. He pulled her head closer and bestowed a
quick, beautiful kiss on her pouty lips.

They were still only inches away from one
another, when she whispered, "What do you miss the most?"

"About?" His arms encircled her small waist
as he prayed she would stay on top of him forever. The conversation
felt sweeter, more intimate that way.

"About your father."

The question took him by surprise. He didn't
know how to answer. In all these years, nobody had ever asked him
how he was dealing with his father's death. Everyone just assumed
he was doing poorly and hadn't wanted to bother him with emotional
questions. Not Evelyn.

"Everything," he choked out.

"It gets better."

And she would know. Earlier he had heard
she'd lost her mother at a young age.

"It's better now," he managed to whisper as
he went in for another kiss. "I'll take you home now."

She nodded and moved off him. Never had his
body felt so cold and alone as when Evelyn De Jarlias withdrew from
him.

This girl was different, and he wanted more
than a seduction, more than to marry for his mother's wishes. He
wanted a wife, for himself.

****

Evelyn walked home in a blurry haze of
excitement. One minute she was chasing a rabbit; in the next she
was on top of Royce alternating talking about his father and
kissing.

When had she become so wanton? His kisses
were addictive, much like warm chocolate or cream puffs. Once you
had a taste, you never wanted to stop.

"Oh, perfect, Evelyn," she muttered to
herself; comparing him to food was so like her. She shook her head.
Momentarily forgetting Royce was walking right beside her, grinning
from ear to ear.

"And how's the conversation with yourself
going, sweetheart?"

"Fine." Evelyn smiled her sweetest and bit
her nails. Then she did a mock curtsy and turned away, staring only
at the sidewalk in front of her as he guided her along the street
back to her home.

"Touchy."

She glared at him but decided not to satisfy
his teasing with a response. Once they reached the door to her
house, she braced herself against another one of his sensual
barrages. In pure suspense of it all, she nearly missed a step and
had to grab on to him for support. Unfortunately, the first thing
her hand touched was the rock-hard muscle of his arms, making her
knees grow weaker than before.

"S-s-sorry," she mumbled. She straightened
her cloak and silently stepped inside.

Exhaling, she turned to close the door and
came face to face with Royce. Apparently, he wasn't leaving just
yet.

"One more thing." Lingering dangerously
close to her lips, he caressed the side of her face and grinned. "I
have to say good night."

Evelyn began to protest but was silenced by
the warm invasion of his lips. Forsaking all propriety, her body
curved into his. The kiss lasted all of three seconds, but was hot
enough to singe the hair straight off a hog.

Royce steadied her, then flicked her chin
and let himself out. It must have been at least ten minutes before
the sluggish brain of hers came back full force and told her it was
time to crawl into bed, lest she fall asleep standing up.

Somehow she made it into her room and fell
asleep with a giant smile on her face.

Chapter
Ten

"Morning," a voice interrupted Evelyn's
sleep. Must have been a figment of her overactive imagination.

Stretching like a cat, she yawned and pushed
herself out of bed. Her body hit something hard. She opened her
eyes and gasped. Standing in front of her was Royce, fully clothed
and smiling like a lion that had just caught his prey.

She felt her face heat as she realized her
state of dress. "Royce McArthur! I'm barely dressed!" Seething, she
sank into her bed and threw the covers over her head.

"We're going on a picnic," he announced,
nonplussed by her outburst.

"I don't care!" She sunk even lower into her
mattress with sheer embarrassment.

It took all the strength she had not to
squeal when she felt Royce weigh down the left side of the bed as
he took a seat beside her.

"Are you going to hide in there all morning?
I mean, I don't mind playing hide-and-seek if the final result is I
end up in your bed, but I thought you would want to know our
parents have planned a full day's excursion picnicking and
shopping—and, of course, they are unchaperoned."

Evelyn sighed and pulled down the covers
only far enough to reveal her large eyes. Although she hated to
admit it, concern etched in her voice as she spoke. "You mean
they're going out two days in a row? Together?"

He nodded as he inched his hand close to
where she was gripping the blankets the tightest. "Tsk, tsk,
Evelyn. You won't be one of those brides who hides under the
covers, will you? We can't have that."

What did he mean we? "It's February."

"Your knowledge of the calendar is
astonishing! Say, do you have the months memorized?"

Evelyn groaned.

Royce laughed. "Haven't you noticed this
unreasonably warm weather? I'll bet it's no colder than a brisk
spring day out there. Now hurry up. We have some spying to do. I'll
just wait outside. That is, unless you'd like me to stay and
help?"

Evelyn was still frozen in place, but
managed to move her hand and point toward the door for him to
leave. Peeking around the covers she watched his beautifully
dressed form walk away.

"Oh, I almost forgot." He turned around
again and winked. "I love your hair that way, down and curved
around your shoulders. Makes a man wish he could take a peek under
that sheet."

"Out!" She threw a pillow at his head, but
he had already shut the door. His laughter boomed down the
hallway.

How in tarnation did he even get in her room
without her maid having an apoplexy or her butler shooting him? He
must have sweet-talked her maid somehow, or bought her silence with
one of his devilishly handsome smiles.

"Cad," she mumbled to herself and went to
the washbasin. If her father was out with Mrs. McArthur again, it
could only mean one thing. He had found a woman he could possibly
love. Her daddy played for keeps and wasn't the sort of man to
waste his time tinkering around. When he got an idea in his head,
he followed through with it. And it seemed the object of his
affection and thoughts lingered on Royce's mother.

****

Royce sat at Evelyn's breakfast table and
drank a cup of hot tea, letting it soothe his rattled nerves. Of
course, he had seen plenty of women in bed—women dressed with
French lacy things that left nothing to the imagination. Yet seeing
Evelyn in her cotton nightgown was enough to send him into a
frenzy, abandoning all rules of propriety and falling to his knees
right then and there. The poor girl almost had him proposing before
she had even opened her mouth.

Shuddering at how close he had come to
ruining all his best-laid plans, he took another lingering sip and
paused. Footsteps neared the room, so he straightened his jacket
and rose to greet Evelyn.

"Are you better now, sweetheart?"

She paused, looked down at herself, then
back at him. "Yes. I believe I am, now that I'm fully clothed and
wide awake." She raised an eyebrow and poured herself some tea.
"Since you've interrupted my sleep and nearly frightened me to
death with your unexpected presence in my room, what exactly do you
have in mind for our little spy game today?"

"I thought you'd never ask." He sipped some
more tea and waited for her to sit before he explained. "They're
going to have a picnic here. Then the plan, if I heard it
correctly, was to attend the Worthington's Valentine Ball
tonight."

Evelyn sighed. "I dislike balls."

"And I dislike wind, but it doesn't mean I
sit and pout about it."

"I'm not—"

"You were, don't deny it. No pouting. Just
think of it as another one of our spying adventures."

"Our adventures?"

Royce grew suddenly nervous and cleared his
throat. "Yes. Well, I… I was hoping we could attend together." Long
awkward pause. "As a couple. After all, this is your first
Valentine's Day in New York, is it not?"

Evelyn blinked, making the silence deadly to
his self-esteem. How many times had she blinked before
answering?

"That would be lovely."

"Brilliant!" Royce realized he hadn't been
breathing and would have probably passed out had she not answered
when she did. "Shall we conclude our breakfast and find a
comfortable hiding place outside whilst we wait?"

Evelyn eyed him speculatively, and then
grinned. "Agreed, but…" she pointed at him, "if you touch my warm
chocolate this morning, or my pastry, I'm kicking you out."

"My dear, I wouldn't dream of it. I even
took the liberty of having the pastry heated up for you. Seems you
took awhile to better yourself, though I must admit you looked
ravishing earlier this morning. No matter. I had the cook take it
back while you finished your morning rituals."

"Saints be praised," she mumbled, sipping
her warm chocolate with a look of absolute ecstasy.

"Wish you would look at me like that," he
muttered, reaching for his own pastry.

"Pardon?" Evelyn peered up at him, all
clear-eyed and beautiful.

"Nothing." He reached for his napkin and
became captivated again as she daintily ate her morning meal.

The words lovesick, ridiculous, fool,
floated around in his head throughout the morning, but he didn't
mind. Not with Evelyn in the room. She had a way of making
everything brighter—happier. The connection with her was more than
just physical. It was as if by sharing the same air, he was able to
feel more like himself, something he hadn't felt since his father
died.

Chapter
Eleven

They sauntered to the back of the large
house and sat beneath a tree hidden from the rest of the outside
area, where the makeshift tent was already set up for her father
and Royce's mother. They had a basket of food and a bottle of wine.
Royce also insisted on bringing playing cards, so he could teach
her how to play the civilized game of whist.