Chapter Twenty-Eight
He had tostop kissing this woman. Had to let her go, but Anthony didn’t seem able to do either of those things. Evie felt right in his arms, and he wanted to keep her there. Wanted to lay her down and take her where they stood. His body was hard with need for her.
“Anthony.”
It was she who eased back, not he.
“We can’t do this. Anyone could—”
“I don’t care about anyone right now, Evangeline. I care about you,” he rasped.
Her brown eyes were so close to his, and he could read every conflicted emotion in them.
“I don’t understand.”
“That makes two of us. There are things we need to discuss, Evie, but not now where anyone could chance upon us. Right now, you’re correct. We need to stop kissing and walk.”
He took her fingers and kissed the backs of them before lowering them to his arm.
Out of the corner of his eye he noted her exhale. As he’d just done the same, he understood why. They both needed time to recover from what had happened.
“I dropped my biscuits, and just when I had decided who should receive one.” Her voice wasn’t its usual forceful tone. There was a huskiness to it now that he’d put there.
“To whom were you giving it?” Anthony asked, happy to change the subject.
He’d just kissed Evie on the path where anyone could have seen them. Yes, they were engaged. Nevertheless, it had not been a wise move on his part. Especially because now he really knew what she tasted like and that she responded to him as she did everything, with enthusiasm.
“Why, Prudence of course.”
“You’re a mean woman, Miss Spencer.”
“I try.”
“Are you really recovered from your illness, Evangeline?”
“I am, yes. I haven’t been ill in a long time, and I don’t want to be again anytime soon. It was horrid.”
“I’m sure it was.” He’d hated thinking of her lying in that bed in pain.
“Why did you kiss me?”
He’d known of course she’d want answers but had hoped she’d wait, but then this was Evangeline. She never simply accepted things.
“Because I wanted to,” he said slowly.
“Do you do everything you want to?”
“Usually. You?”
“Where I can,” she said, her tone prim.
He smiled, as he often did in her company. He’d thought to strike a bargain with this woman to benefit them both, but it had turned out so much more than that. For so long, he’d vowed he was better alone. Better not putting his trust in anyone else.But he trusted her.
“Mr. Calthorpe is here, Anthony.”
“He is Hampton’s cousin so that stands to reason.”
“I just wanted you to know, seeing as there is a past between you.”
