The large shadow standing in the doorway was that of her fiancé…fake fiancé.
“Anthony, you made my heart stop. What are you doing here?” Evie gasped.
“Following my reckless fiancée,” he snapped.
“Why am I reckless? I was careful and encountered no one. How did you see me if you were not being reckless also?”
“I was seated in the library when you walked in. I watched you open the door and step outside, and you damn well know it is not the same for me to be wandering about at night alone as it is for you.”
He moved closer to where she sat. Now she could read his expression, she saw he was indeed angry.
“It is not reckless here in the country to walk about alone for anyone surely?” she protested.
“And what of Calthorpe or Cavendish? Are they not a risk to you? Or someone who has drunk too much and thinks to take advantage of you.”
“Stop snarling at me. You are not my fiancé, this is fake, and I do not take instruction from you.” Evie felt her own anger rise.
“I will snarl at you if you are behaving like a fool,” he thundered. “I have history with those men that until now has merely simmered below the surface. But Cavendish wanted you as his wife, and I beat him to it—”
“I am not a bone to gnaw over,” Evie snapped, regaining her feet.
“To him you are. Use that large brain of yours, Evangeline.” His hands grabbed her shoulders. “I don’t want you hurt.”
Before she could speak, he had pulled her closer.
“You’re important to me,” he whispered against her lips. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“No,” she said.
“Me either.” He kissed her. It was hard, his lips crushing hers, and it took two seconds for her to respond.
Evie threw her arms around his neck and held on as his mouth devoured hers.
“You are causing me a lot of trouble, Evangeline.” His mouth moved to her jaw where he kissed along it. “I can think of nothing but you.”
“I am the same,” Evie said lifting her chin as he reached her neck.
His hands were moving over her body, leaving heat wherever they touched.
“This engagement,” he gritted out, easing back from her. “I think we need to make it real.”
The shock had her mouth opening.
“Well?” he demanded, wrapping her hair around his fist and giving it a gentle tug, which had their eyes meeting.
“I-ah. Yes,” she said, and then nodded in case he didn’t understand what she’d said.
“Good, because I want to make love to you, Evangeline, and I want to do that now.”
“Do you?” Her limbs had gone weak, and she had an urge to press her thighs together because heat was pooling there.
“But if you don’t want that, then we will wait until after our marriage,” he gritted out.
He looked in pain, Evie thought as his hands stopped their movement and he stepped back to put space between them.
“You need to say no now, and then we will go back to the house, because if I keep touching you, I will be unable to stop,” he rasped.
This man whom she thought had so much control wanted to make love to her. Evangeline Spencer. He wanted her to be his real fiancée. The thoughts were heady ones.
