“Well, I do not wish to take up anymore of your time,” she said abruptly, turning on her heel. “I shall leave you to enjoy the place.”
“Without you?” He blocked her path before she could leave. “Because, I have to admit, that you do quite suit this place.”
“Why, yes. Very well then,” Isadora tried to rush out the words, but before she could finish, the room tilted. A sudden wave of exhaustion overcame her—overwhelming as her limbs weakened beneath her.
“Oh,” she murmured as she swayed, losing her balance.
Within seconds, a pair of strong arms held her up. One firmly at her waist and the other clasping her arm.
“Isadora,” Evan’s voice came panicked. His smirk had disappeared.
She barely heard him but clung onto him as her eyelashes fluttered and the dizziness took over her body.
Evan swore under his breath before swiftly guiding her toward the nearest couch, his hands gripping her just enough to ensure she did not fall. He made sure that she was firmly laid down as he barked instructions to the staff to bring her a glass of water.
“I’m fine, really.” She tried to sit up, but he lowered her back down. “It was just—well…”
Truthfully, even Isadora did not know what exactly had just happened to her.
“You and I have vastlydifferentdefinitions of fine, then,” he said firmly but not in a manner that was unkind.
Before she could answer, she heard the rustle of fabric and then the feeling of something heavy being draped around her shoulders.
Evan’s jacket.
“Oh, this is really not necessary,” she tried to argue though the warmth of the fabric—or perhaps the gesture—comforted her instantly.
“I do not recall asking you,” he said, firmly. “Look at what you’ve done to yourself. You need to take better care of yourself. Have you eaten anything since this morning?”
Now that he mentioned it, she realized that she had not.
“I suppose I’ve been busy and just… forgot,” she admitted. And then, she saw him.
He was left in nothing but a crisp white shirt—the fabric clinging to his muscles. The sight disarmed her momentarily. It was so different than what she was used to seeing him in.
Suddenly, she felt all too aware of how she was laid out on the sofa as he hovered over her, watching her with a concerned expression. She found herself feeling lightheaded again—but this time, it had nothing to do with the fact that she had not eaten.
“We need to feed you,” Evan continued, seemingly unfazed as he took a seat besides her. “After all, we cannot have the Duchess fainting on us again, can we?”
“I did not faint.” She tried to sit up, but Evan’s gaze made her freeze in place again.
“You would have if I had not been here,” he sighed, picking up the glass that the maid that brought in and bringing it to her lips. “Drink this at least.”
Isadora took a slow sip, the cool water soothing the dryness in her throat. As she lowered the glass, a smile curled at her lips.
“What is it now?” Evan asked her, eyeing her suspiciously.
“Nothing,” she muttered, the smile still firmly in place. “It’s just… well, look at you being a gentleman. I suppose my lessons have been working after all.”
Evan did not answer immediately, but when he spoke again, his voice was low. “I suppose they have. I would not get used to it, though.”
“Oh, I would not dare,” she continued, teasingly now. “I am lucky enough that the Duke has been kind to me this evening.”
Their gaze met again, but this time, something in the room had shifted. The mood had gone from concerned panic to something else entirely. A flush of warmth gathered around her cheeks.
“I feel fine now,” she broke the silence finally and sat up in an attempt to distract herself. “Truly. You must believe me.”
But the moment she moved to stand, Evan’s hand shot out, fingers wrapping gently around her wrist.
