Page 5 of Until the Rake Surrenders (Rogue Rules #5)

M in stepped gingerly into the ladies’ library not long after the bonesetter left. The doctor had arrived first, and she hadn’t stayed while he’d examined Evan. She had, however, lingered in the library and strained to hear what was happening, particularly when the bonesetter arrived. That was how she knew that Evan had sustained a mild concussion as well as a sprained—not broken, thankfully—ankle.

Closing the door behind her, Min walked toward the bed where Evan now rested, his head elevated by several pillows. She’d heard the commotion of the bed being brought down when the doctor had arrived. He’d decreed that the settee was not a sufficient place for an examination, particularly for the bonesetter. The doctor had also insisted that Evan have a bed in this room on which to recuperate, as he should not be transported upstairs.

“I know you’re there,” Evan said without opening his eyes.

“Do you know who it is?” Min asked as she looked down at him.

“Of course, I do.”

Min couldn’t imagine how he could. “And how is that?”

“You always smell like violets,” he replied, his eyes still closed.

“How do you know what violets smell like?” She snorted. “You aren’t even sure what color chestnut brown is.”

His mouth lifted into a half smile. “I believe your brother once mentioned that you wore the scent of violets. I may not know what violets smell like, but I know what you smell like.”

Shock and heat bloomed in Min’s chest. She’d felt twinges of awareness around him earlier—a few charged moments that confused her—from something he said or the way he looked at her. It had made her wonder if Evan had done more damage to his head than he realized. She supposed he had, since he’d sustained a concussion. However, his concussion would not be responsible for her sudden and perplexing reaction to him. Min reasoned that was due to the drastic situation. He’d been in danger, and she was caring for him.

It was nothing but that.

“How is your head? Has the medicine helped?” Min asked. The doctor had provided a headache tonic as well as a salve that was to ease the pain in his foot.

“It’s slightly improved,” Evan replied. “But my ankle still throbs like the devil, even after three tumblers of whiskey.”

Min’s brows shot up. “Three? I should think that would help a little.”

“Have you ever had whiskey, Min?” He opened his eyes and turned his head toward her.

“Once or twice.” She shrugged. “Perhaps ten times.”

“ Ten times?” Surprise brightened his dark eyes. “Do you nick it from your father’s study?”

“I used to,” she said. “The last couple of glasses came from Sheff. I think we were lamenting about our meddlesome parents. Whiskey always helps those conversations.”

Evan smiled. “I can imagine. Now that Sheff is married, all their attention can be directed upon you and your matrimonial prospects. I’m surprised your mother isn’t at this party.”

“She’s busy in Bath, and I don’t mind her absence one bit.” Min glanced at the round table that had been moved somewhat close to the bed. All the furniture had been rearranged to transform the library into a bedchamber. A bottle stood on the table, and she’d noted an empty glass on the smaller table next to the head of the bed. “Would you like another glass of whiskey?”

“Not until I eat something. Marguerite was going to bring me some biscuits.”

Min noted his boots on the floor near the foot of the bed. One was in pristine condition, though muddy, and the other had been cut apart. “I’m sorry about your boot.”

“It’s a travesty,” he moaned. “The marquess did offer to buy me a new pair since I sustained my injury entertaining his house guests, but I declined.”

“That was nice of him to offer,” Min said. “Who is your boot maker in London?”

“Those boots came from Cardiff, and they are my favorite. No one makes boots as well as Leather Davis.”

“His name is Leather?”

Evan chuckled. “No, that is just what we call him. His name is David Davis, which, as you can imagine, is confusing.”

“I should say so, but then you Welsh people, with your lack of a variety of surnames and unpronounceable language, are very confusing.”

“I shall take that as a compliment,” Evan said, closing his eyes once more and shifting his head so it faced upward instead of toward Min.

“How do you feel about your new lodgings?” she asked.

Evan made a noise in his throat. “It’s better than walking up the stairs, especially if I keep my eyes closed. At least the bedclothes aren’t pink or floral.”

“Neither are they blue or brown,” Min noted, eyeing the stitched ivory coverlet. “I shall find something in those shades to ease your discomfort.”

He cracked another brief smile without opening his eyes. “That would be most welcome.”

Marguerite entered carrying a tray with tea, cakes, biscuits, sandwiches, thick slices of bread, and a rather delectable-looking hunk of cheese.

“Here you are, Mr. Price,” Marguerite announced as she set the tray down on a table. “I see your nursemaid has returned.” The maid gave Min an approving nod.

Evan opened his eyes and regarded Marguerite. “She has indeed. Min, would you mind pouring out?”

“Not at all,” Mins replied, moving to the table.” I see there are two cups. I think Marguerite must have expected me to be here.” She smiled at the maid.

“You did say you would return,” Marguerite replied. “Not that you went far. Weren’t you in the library while the doctor and bonesetter were here?”

“I was.” Min cast a glance toward Evan, who was looking at her.

“You were?” he asked.

“I wanted to know what was going on,” Min admitted as she poured out the tea. “I don’t know how you take your tea.”

“Milk and just a hint of sugar.”

Min made his cup as directed, then added milk and twice as much sugar to hers. She turned to Marguerite. “Thank you. Where will you be if we need you?”

“Not far,” the maid replied. “I’ll come back and check on Mr. Price at regular intervals. Lady Bath has assigned me to his care, in addition to you, of course, Lady Minerva.” She turned and left the library.

Min transferred one of everything from the tray onto a plate and brought it to the small bedside table along with his tea. “There we are. Do you need any help eating or drinking?”

“I think I can manage that, since neither activity requires my foot.” He glanced down at his left ankle, which—though covered by the bedclothes—appeared to be surrounded by a box of some kind.

“May I look?” Min asked. She was most curious as to what the bonesetter had done. Evan’s grunts, and occasional yelps, of pain had been rather distressing to hear. However, Min did not want to point that out for fear he would be embarrassed.

“Certainly, but I must caution you that my leg is bare. They had to cut off my stockings and the lower portion of the leg of my breeches.”

His warning gave her pause, but her curiosity won out. She carefully lifted the bedclothes and moved them to expose his ankle. Evan’s lower leg was strapped into a wooden box contraption that surrounded his calf and foot on three sides, as well as the bottom of his foot. Bandaging was wrapped tightly around his ankle.

She looked up and met his gaze. “Is it uncomfortable?”

“Not being able to move is difficult, but I’m to keep my ankle as still as possible for the rest of today and all of tomorrow.”

“And what happens the day after that?” she asked.

“I am still to wear the box, but I can move. With help, of course,” he added. “The bonesetter will send a wheelchair as soon as he can.”

Min imagined how Evan might do certain…activities until he could move. “But you’re going to have to move before then. How will you take care of your…needs?”

He arched a brow at her. “What needs are those?”

“Changing your clothes. And other…things.” She pulled the bedclothes back over his foot. “I refuse to elaborate.”

“Marguerite is to help me with clothing and my other requirements. But it is kind of you to ask.” A smile teased his lips. “I would not have asked you to help with such things.”

“Well, no. That would not be appropriate. Even for a sister-friend,” she murmured.

“Definitely not for a ‘sister-friend,’” he agreed. “Whatever that is.”

Min picked up her teacup and saucer from the table and returned to Evan’s side, where she perched on the chair. She sipped her tea as Evan reached for his cup.

Setting her cup and saucer down hastily, she moved to assist him. “Let me help you with that.” Rising, she handed him the cup and saucer and stood nearby as he sipped the brew.

He looked up at her. “You needn’t hover.”

“I suppose not.” She sat down. “When will you be allowed to walk?”

“In a week—so at the end of the party.” He exhaled with disappointment. “Even worse, I can’t ride for a month.”

She arched a brow at him. “I’m surprised you’re eager to ride again after what happened. You aren’t afraid? Or nervous?”

“Not at all. I’m worried Merlin will miss me or that we’ll forget how to do something since we aren’t practicing.” Evan would miss riding Merlin. He looked forward to when he could walk to the stables and at least spend time with him.

“I’m glad you can walk in a week’s time. That’s much better than if you’d broken bones.”

Evan couldn’t disagree, but it was a bloody inconvenience. “I will need to use a walking stick for a fortnight. At that time, I should seek another physician’s evaluation—wherever I am, since I will no longer be here—and determine if I’m ready to walk without assistance.”

She frowned at him. “You don’t think it’s better if you just stay at Longleat until you are completely healed? Lady Bath told me she hoped you might do that. She feels terrible that this happened.”

“She did make that offer to me, and the marquess also encouraged me to stay as long as I like. However, I don’t know that I want to be cooped up here after the party is over.” He looked about the ladies’ library with faint distaste. “Being stuck in here during the party is bad enough.”

“Where would you go after this?” Min asked.

“I’m supposed to go to Bath.”

“Are you?” Min hadn’t known that. “Why not London? Don’t you have a position with the Treasury you ought to return to?”

He sipped his tea. “My presence is not required at the moment.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why is that?”

“My father has asked me to consider standing as MP for a vacant seat.”

“A member of Parliament,” Min said. “Does that interest you?”

“Perhaps,” he replied somewhat enigmatically before sipping his tea again. He moved the cup toward the table, and Min reached to take it from him and set it down. He picked up the plate of food without her assistance.

Min found it odd that he was away from his position at the Treasury for so long—first in Weston last month, now here, and then he would be going to Bath. “Why are you going to Bath? Not for the Marriage Mart, surely.”

He replied between bites. “My mother has taken a house there for the autumn.” He took another bite and swallowed before continuing. “She asked if I would join her for a while.”

“It sounds as though she may want you to participate in the Marriage Mart,” Min teased. “Are you prepared for that?”

After swallowing another bite, he gave her a rather devilish grin. “Always. But she knows I am not ready for matrimony. Particularly if I’m to focus on taking a seat in Parliament.”

“That sounds like an excuse my brother would have made before he met Jo,” Min said with a low laugh.

“Call it an excuse if you like, but it’s the truth. I am not ready to wed, and to do so would be…irresponsible. Or at least disingenuous to a bride looking for a groom who is utterly devoted to her.” He popped the last bite of bread and cheese into his mouth and made an expression of pleasure. His eyes closed briefly, and his lips curled into an almost sensual smile. Heat coiled in Min’s belly, much to her consternation.

She focused on their conversation instead of her inane reactions to Evan. “It sounds as though you’re saying you aren’t currently capable of devotion. Marriages don’t necessarily require that. Just look at my parents,” she noted wryly. While she’d observed that many marriages lacked a truly deep, romantic connection, Min knew that such a union would not be sufficient for her.

“You are correct about the first part. I am not prepared to fall in love.” He set his empty plate on the table next to the bed. “I don’t know the details of your parents’ union, but I know enough from Sheff’s comments and from rumors that they, ah, detest one another.” He gave her an apologetic look.

“Don’t feel sorry for me. Direct your pity at them. They are the ones living in an unhappy situation.” Her shoulder twitched.

Evan stared at her. “Is that why you’ve hesitated to wed? It is, isn’t it? You keep every suitor at bay—rogue or not—because you’re afraid you’ll end up like them.”

Min felt as though someone were standing on her chest for the barest moment. How had he seen through her when no one else had? Save Ellis, who knew Min almost as well as she knew herself. Recovering, Min managed to take a deep breath. “I haven’t ‘hesitated.’ I’ve refused every suitor because they were all rogues or roguish.”

“Isn’t your father a rogue?” he asked.

“I would describe him as such, yes.” She abruptly turned, hoping to end this conversation. “Shall I fetch a book to read to you?”

Evan snagged her elbow, his warm hand closing around her bare skin. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Min faced him, but he did not immediately release her. The moment stretched as they looked at one another. She was wholly aware of his touch. And not just where his flesh met hers.

This was becoming inconvenient. She could not develop an attraction to her patient, let alone her friend’s brother who was a known rogue. Or at least had roguish tendencies.

As if he had come to the same conclusion, he let go of her arm and withdrew his hand to his side. He then picked up her new topic of conversation. “What book?”

Good. This was better.

“What would you like?” Min moved to the nearest bookcase and opened the glass door.

“Whatever you choose will be brilliant, I’m sure.”

“Do you like horror novels?” she asked. “There are quite a few here.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever read one,” he replied. “You must promise to read it with a gloomy pitch.”

Min laughed softly as she plucked a book from the shelf. “ The Mysteries of Udolpho is quite entertaining. Utterly far-fetched and dramatic. Truly horrible.”

“That sounds perfect.”

As Min returned to the chair, she met his gaze once more. Again, she was besieged by a fluttery feeling in her belly.

This was an unusual situation, she reminded herself. There was nothing more to it than that.

L ess than twenty-four hours had elapsed since Evan had been confined to the pink floral hell, but he was already miserable. His head felt better this morning, but his ankle was still paining him terribly.

He realized he was cranky, and why wouldn’t he be, for he hadn’t slept well. It wasn’t even that he’d tossed and turned, because, of course, he could not. Instead, he’d been forced to try to slumber on his back with the box strapped to his lower extremity. Evan preferred sleeping on his side. He hadn’t realized how much.

The worst part was hearing the sounds of the house party well into the night. Guests—mostly the bachelors—walked past on their way to the dining room or probably the billiard room. They’d stopped in after dinner on the way to the drawing room, but only for a few minutes. At least they’d brought him a bottle of port and a glass.

Min had already been there following dinner, having come straight from the dining room when the ladies had gone to the drawing room. She’d read another two chapters of The Mysteries of Udolpho before Ellis had come to tell her that she had to join the others to appease their hostess as well as Mrs. Ogilvie.

The lads had seen the horrid novel and laughed at Evan’s choice of literature. That was when he’d told them to leave because their presence was making his head throb.

Marguerite had brought him breakfast this morning, and Min had come in briefly on her way to the breakfast room. The marquess had also visited to check on his recuperation. He’d then apologized for the overwhelming femininity of Evan’s quarters.

“Morning, Price,” Lambton called as he and three of the other bachelors entered the ladies’ library.

They were dressed rather sportingly, and Evan wondered what they were up to. He also didn’t want to ask. He hated the feeling of exclusion when something exciting or diverting was happening and he was not able to attend. It was almost like a fear that he was missing something.

Barswell sauntered toward the bed. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“My head hurts marginally less,” Evan replied. “Where are you off to?” It seemed he couldn’t help asking.

Claxton glanced toward the windows, where Marguerite had opened the curtains. “The weather is quite fine, so we are paddling boats on the pond. Shame you can’t join us.” He smiled rather acidly, and Evan didn’t believe the viscount found it a shame at all.

Had the man sensed that Evan didn’t care for him? Good. Evan didn’t suffer fools, and he read Claxton as an absolute bounder. Still, he would gladly have tolerated the man’s company if it meant he could go boating.

“What did I miss last night in the drawing room, after dinner?” Evan apparently wasn’t able to keep himself from hearing about all the amusements he was missing.

“Miss Ecclestone graced us with a lovely performance on the pianoforte,” Jarvis replied. He was the youngest of the set, and Evan had only met him a few times before.

“Mostly, Barswell and Claxton fought over who got to stand closest to Miss Shaughnessy,” Lambton added with a laugh.

“What’s so special about Miss Shaughnessy?” Evan asked.

Claxton’s mouth curved into a smug smile. “Did you not have a chance to meet her yesterday before your fumble?”

Evan bristled at his use of the word “fumble.” “I did not.”

“She’s very pretty.” Lambton sent sly smiles to both Claxton and Barswell. “Dark red hair, stunning blue eyes. Large…well, you know.” He looked to Evan. “Surely you noticed her after you fell from the horse. She and Lady Minerva and that companion were there.”

Evan thought back. Of course, he recalled Min being there, and he remembered Ellis. Lambton’s description of her as “that companion” annoyed Evan. “You mean Miss Dangerfield.”

“She’s the companion.” Lambton shook his head at Evan. “I forgot you have a concussion.”

“I was informing you of her name,” Evan said, barely concealing his irritation. “I realize there was a third woman there.” He couldn’t conjure her image, however, which was unsurprising.

“She’s Wexford’s sister,” Barswell put in. “Not the one who married Lord Lucien Westbrook.”

Claxton snorted. “Of course she’s not. This is Miss Shaughnessy.”

Evan looked at Barswell and Claxton. “Let me understand. You’re fighting over who gets to stand next to a pretty young lady whom neither of you have any intention of marrying?”

“That’s not entirely true,” Barswell said defensively. “I am not as opposed to marriage as some of you.”

“I’m not opposed to marriage,” Evan said. “I’m just not in the mood yet.”

This provoked laughter, notably from Claxton.

Lambton shot the man a pitying look. “Claxton is going to have to wed. He likes to pretend that he isn’t in need of an heiress, but we know the truth.”

Claxton scowled. “You know nothing.”

“I don’t think Miss Shaughnessy qualifies as an heiress,” Lambton said. “Her father was the steward at the Wexford estate in Ireland. When Wexford’s father died, his mother married the steward. Miss Shaughnessy would be better suited for Price or Jarvis. Their families don’t expect them to marry someone from the nobility.”

“Well, surely she’s almost nobility, since her half brother is an earl,” Barswell argued.

Lambton shook his head. “My father would say, ‘It’s not in the blood.’ Not like Lady Minerva, who is the blue-blooded daughter of a duke.”

“None of us has a chance with her,” Jarvis said, looking around at everyone, including Evan. “At least that’s what I’ve heard.” His gaze lingered on Evan.

“Why are you looking at me?” Evan asked.

Jarvis shrugged. “Because you know her. Isn’t she nursing you?”

“She’s keeping me company.” Evan didn’t like the characterization that she was his nurse. That implied something more…intimate. “That’s because my sister is a dear friend of hers, and her brother is a good friend of mine. We are like family.”

“Well, there’s family,” Lambton said. “And there’s family .” He waggled his almost invisible blond brows.

Evan hated looking up at all of them. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“There’s blood family, and there’s married family. Isn’t it obvious?” Lambton blinked. “She is not your blood family, so that leaves the other.”

“That’s ridiculous. I said she is like family. Obviously, she is not my wife,” said Evan. “Nor will she be. Shouldn’t you be off to the pond?” Their visit had done nothing to improve his mood. In fact, he felt even more sour than before they’d arrived.

“Come, lads, we’d best be on our way,” Claxton said airily. “Enjoy The Mysteries of Rudolph ,” he added with a laugh.

“ Udolpho ,” Evan muttered as they departed. He glowered at the book on the table next to his bed, then looked to the window. It was indeed a fine day, marvelous for a boat ride. Alas, he couldn’t even see the pond from his floral dungeon.

He scowled at a particularly offensive floral-patterned chair near the hearth.

“Evan, I brought a visitor,” Min said from the doorway in a singsong voice.

Glad for the diversion, he turned his head and saw that Ellis was with her. Their arms were full: Min carried a vase with a very odd arrangement of flowers and twigs, as well as a coverlet, while Ellis brought a painting.

Min set the vase down on the table next to his bed. “Let’s put these on the settee.” She placed the coverlet on one side of the cushion as Ellis deposited the painting on the other.

“You brought me gifts?” he asked.

Moving back to his bedside, Min said proudly, “We brought you blue and brown—not chestnut brown, but brown just the same.” She gestured to the painting depicting brownish cliffs and the ocean, which was blue enough. The coverlet was a very light brown stitched with blue, and the vase contained blue flowers and twigs.

He laughed, and Min glanced at the vase. “I didn’t realize you would laugh, though I do agree that the arrangement is somewhat sad. However, there are no brown flowers, so I put in twigs instead. Aren’t the forget-me-nots pretty?”

“They’re lovely,” he said as he collected himself. His head was now throbbing from the laughter, but it had been worth it. “You’ve quite cheered me. Thank you, both of you. Wherever did you find those things?” He gestured toward the settee.

“The painting came from the sitting room outside my chamber,” Min replied. “Marguerite found the coverlet. I daresay one of the other gentlemen is missing part of his bedclothes.”

“I do hope it’s Claxton,” Evan said with a grin.

Ellis narrowed her eyes with amusement. “I think that is who Marguerite said. Why were you hoping it was him?”

“Because he’s nearly insufferable.”

“Only nearly?” Ellis’s brow arched, and Evan chuckled again.

“While I do appreciate your visit, you must stop provoking me to laugh. Anything beyond a faint smile makes my head hurt.” He put his hand to his brow.

“Apologies.” Ellis grimaced. “I’m afraid I forgot about your head. You don’t look like an invalid.”

“Not from the waist up,” he said. Marguerite had dressed him as well as his valet in London—above the waist.

“Goodness, what about beneath the bedclothes?” Ellis asked as pink stained her cheeks. She looked away. “Never mind. Please forget I asked.”

Evan chuckled. “I don’t mind telling you there is nothing beneath the coverlet or the bedclothes. It is far too difficult to get dressed when one’s foot is stuck in a box.” The marquess had sent the valet, Thompson—who’d been assigned to Evan upon his arrival—to cut away the remainder of his clothing below the waist. He’d also bathed Evan as well as possible, for which Evan was grateful.

Too late, Evan realized he should not have told them about his nudity. Ellis was still blushing—and not looking at him. Min, however, was staring at him. He could not tell what she was thinking and feared he’d completely offended her.

Before he could apologize, Ellis spoke.

“I’m sorry you can’t come to the pond with us.” She’d regained her normal color.

“You’re going?” he asked, glad for the awkwardness to pass.

Ellis nodded. “Iona needs protection from the rogues.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Evan said.

“Why?” Min crossed her arms over her chest. “What have you heard?”

“Only that she’s very pretty, and it seems Claxton and Barswell were competing for her attention last night.”

“Well, she is very pretty,” Min said. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice that.”

“I don’t recall meeting her yesterday,” Evan replied with a slight grimace.

“Of course you wouldn’t. You had just hit your head.” Ellis shook her head at Min.

“I suppose that’s true.” She gave Evan a rueful smile. “Iona is more than a pretty face. She is delightful, and we’ve already befriended her.”

“Then you should go to the pond too,” Evan said. “The more protection for her, the better.”

Min swept the book up from the table. “I’m afraid I couldn’t possibly tear myself away from whatever happens next at Castle Udolpho.”

Ellis started toward the door. “I shall be on my way, then. Enjoy your reading. I’ll stop in after the boating if there is any exciting gossip to share.”

“You are never one to gossip,” Min said in mock horror.

Turning at the door, Ellis said, “I will make an exception for Evan, given his current sad state.” She waved at them and departed the library.

Min brought the chair close to the bed and sat. She opened the book.

Evan held up his hand. “Before you begin, would you be terribly upset if we read something else? I’m afraid I just can’t continue with the melodrama.”

Min exhaled and set the book back down. “I confess I was only pretending to be enthusiastic because I thought you were enjoying it. I’d forgotten how horrid it was. I read it years ago.”

He stifled a smile. “And I was pretending to like it because I thought you were enthralled. Your reading was rather zealous.”

Min laughed. “Well, I’ve always enjoyed a dramatic reading or playacting. I was hoping the house party would include a play of some kind, but I can’t see the other bachelors partaking in such an entertainment.”

“I don’t see why not,” Evan said. “They’re all fools, and what are fools if not entertainers?”

“Perhaps I will suggest to Lady Bath that we put together a play that can be performed in here for your entertainment.”

Evan shook his head and instantly regretted it. Someday, he would remember that he had a concussion. Likely not until the pain had faded. “Not in here. It’s far too small. And too pink. Though the additions you brought today have greatly improved the space.”

She inclined her head. “I am a very good sister-friend. The best you will find, I think.”

She stood from the chair and took the book back to the shelf from which she’d taken it the day before. “What shall we read then?”

“The marquess thought I might enjoy Waverley .” Evan nodded toward the book on the table where the tea set had been the day before. “It’s about a young soldier in the Jacobite Rising.”

Min went to fetch the book and gave him a skeptical look. “That doesn’t sound terribly intriguing to me, but I will read whatever you like.”

“That is generous of you,” he said. “But you must be honest and tell me if you don’t care for it.”

“Then you must promise to do the same. My job is to keep the boredom from worsening your condition, and I can’t do that if you pretend to enjoy something.”

“Fair enough.” He held out his hand. “Let us make a gentleman and lady’s agreement. We shall be perfectly forthright with one another.”

She took his hand, and they shook. The moment they touched, their eyes locked on one another. Evan was suddenly very aware of his nudity beneath the bedclothes. And that Min was also aware of his naked state. Was she thinking about that too? Heat flushed his body, and he hoped his face didn’t flame.

Min looked away first and withdrew her hand from his. She settled into the chair and flicked a look toward his legs. “Are you truly wearing nothing underneath the bedclothes?”

The earlier awkwardness returned tenfold. She had been thinking about it. In truth, it wasn’t awkwardness he felt, but a shocking wave of desire. Evan was suddenly afraid of what might happen beneath the damned bedclothes. “Why would you ask me that?” Did his voice sound strained?

“Because I’m curious, and you did just promise to be forthright. So are you?” she asked, apparently unaware of the physical battle Evan was waging to keep the bedclothes from becoming a bloody tent.

When he did not respond, she waved her hand. “Never mind that I asked. I was just thinking it must be odd to be only half dressed, even if you are covered up. But don’t worry, I am just your sister-friend, and I won’t pay it a second thought.” She said that, but did her gaze linger on his groin?

Evan was now painfully aware that he was nude from the waist down, and he was barely keeping something very untoward from happening below his waist. Something shocking and unsettling. Min was his sister-friend, and such reactions were not to be borne.

He closed his eyes and prayed for Waverley to be a massive distraction from the beautiful and thoughtful young woman beside him.