“Bloody hell.” Rion shook his head, before regarding the viscount once more. “You know I will do what I can to help and I’m sure I speak for Athena when I say we’d be glad to host Mara—”
“That won’t be necessary.” Roarke cut in so abruptly that Rion’s brows rose. “They will both be staying with me.” In a sarcastic aside, he said, “Not to worry, for with Lyra’s presence at Eversleigh House, Mara’s reputation is secure.”
Rockford clenched his jaw and tapped his finger on the chair arm. “There’s no need to be such a jackass. You know I wasn’t offering for propriety’s sake. I couldn’t give a damn less about society and what those hypocrites think.”
Eversleigh clenched his jaw. “I know that.” Blowing out a breath, he said sincerely, “I’m sorry.”
“You’re forgiven, but God only knows why.” Rion’s blue gaze regarded him shrewdly. “I’ve known you a long time, Roarke. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Roarke allowed Rion’s meaning to sink in before he looked up slowly, his hazel eyes completely serious. “Oh, I imagine I’m as prepared now as you were with Athena.”
Rion scrubbed a hand over his face and blew out a heavy breath. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
