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“Good? What is so good about that?” she all but screeched.

“The more you stay out of trouble, the easier it will be for you and me.”

She could not believe what she was hearing from him.

“Why do you insist so much on getting in my way?” she asked him.

He only raised his eyebrow at her and replied coolly, “Because, apparently, you do not know what is good for you.”

“Ifyouknow what is good for you,” she seethed, “then you should know that you cannot control me, Your Grace!”

With that, she stomped off in the direction of her rooms and slammed the door shut behind her.

Even Colin had not meddled so much in her business. Besides, she had her grandmother or her maid to accompany her at all times, and her reputation was spotless.

But Daniel, it would seem, was hellbent on making her a spinster!

Evie could not,would notallow such a thing to happen!

The Duke of Ashton would soon find out that she was not like the other women he was used to ordering around. She was not going to allow him to walk all over her.

Even if his kiss made her weak in the knees just thinking about it.

Now more than ever, she was determined to thwart his controlling behavior.

CHAPTER 8

What the hell is wrong with me?

Daniel flung the sheaf of documents onto the cluttered surface of his mahogany desk, his usually cold features twisted slightly in disgust.

He had spent the better part of the day trying to make sense of everything, but then the memory of Evie draped over him, her breasts rubbing against his arm, her fingers trailing sleepily down his abdomen to his rapidly hardening manhood?—

Dammit!

He scrubbed a hand over his face and resisted the urge to groan—whether it was in sheer frustration or arousal, it did not matter.

Ever since he had woken up to findherin his bed, he had not been able to have a moment’s peace.

And that kiss in the gardens that he told her to forget? Maybeheshould start following his own advice, because aside from fantasies of dragging her body under his, it was all he could think about.

How many times had he slaked his raging lust with his own hand in the past week alone? He had already lost count. Not only that, but to his great chagrin, it was the only thing that seemed to work.

Alcohol had no effect on him. Even adozencourtesans would not have been able to give him the slightest relief.

Not that he could even consider doingthatat the moment. The mere notion of another woman who wasnotEvie touching him made him shudder in disgust.

If Ethan ever found out about it, he would be rolling on the floor, howling in laughter, and Daniel would have his friend’s blood on his hands.

This cannot go on.

He stood up and grabbed his coat, passing by his butler, Barnaby.

“Will you need the carriage, Your Grace?” the man asked him.

Even in the face of his obvious displeasure, Barnaby stood stoically, his features devoid of even the slightest hint of emotion.

Daniel nodded briskly in response. “And have the kitchens prepare several baskets. I am heading off to St. Martha’s.”