Page 68 of Inflict

A lot could happen in a month, he learned.

She had gained weight, not a lot, but enough that she wasn’t as frail, but still just as beautifully delicate. She smiled a lot more often, and with a tender genuineness whenever it was just for him. Sometimes, she did manage to sleep in her bed across the hall from his room, but more often than not, she snuck into his bed with the brightest grins.

Evelyn hadn’t asked about the outside. She never talked about the sunny days, or the rainy ones, when water beat on the windows and she traced the lines with her fingers from the inside. He didn’t know if that was because she wanted to stay right where she was, or because she was afraid of what he might say if she did ask.

Connor didn’t entirely know what he would say, either.

“All right, lass, what is it now?”

Evelyn’s head perked up at his voice, her smile blooming. “Sit with me?”

He sighed, though not unhappily, and made his way over to the window seat. She was scrunched up in one corner, using her legs as a stand of sorts for her sketchbook. Connor perched himself onto the other side, and stretched his legs out to cross them at the ankles. The seat was wide enough that Evelyn didn’t even have to move to accommodate his presence.

“Now, don’t move,” Evelyn said, her pencil flying across her pad.

Connor cocked a brow, amused. “Are you drawing me?”

“I needed a reference. You weren’t home most of the day. Now you are.”

“I do have things to do, love. Work and whatnot.”

“I know.

“I stay home more often than I should,” he added.

It was true.

“I know,” she repeated. “Stop moving.”

Connor had managed practically nothing by way of work, since bringing Evelyn into his home. He’d brushed off more calls than he’d known was smart, taken less clients at the shop, and even gotten out of Sean’s stupid demand for him to show up at another event by the Russians to gain information, by explaining how feckin’ dumb that would be. Sean fell for it, thankfully.

But he had to show face.

He couldn’t suddenly drop off the radar without someone wondering why.

Connor wasn’t ready to bring attention to Evelyn without knowing first all the whys, hows, and whats of her previous situation. She didn’t have a lot of answers to give, and she was never very interested in talking about the men she had been handed to over the years. He didn’t push, not yet, anyway.

To be fair, he hadn’t done a lot of looking himself. He knew exactly where to go if he wanted proper answers, and that was Sean. He didn’t know why, exactly, but his father’s sudden need to dismantle every Russian he came across until he found what he said was taken from him, certainly made Connor take notice.

Sean was looking for Evelyn, without outright saying it.

Connor wasn’t about to hand her over.

“Lean forward,” Evelyn demanded.

Connor did as she asked, surprised when her hand came up to skim over the coarse hair covering his jaw and cheek. Her fingers danced along his two-week beard, tickling and feeling as she watched his expression with soft eyes.

“It’s … soft and not at the same time,” she muttered.

He chuckled. “I’ll shave it when it starts irritating me.”

“Huh.”

Connor grabbed onto Evelyn’s wrist, stopping her from moving again. “I don’t think the texture of the beard is going to help you draw me, lass.”

“Wrong. It helps me immensely. Also, I was curious. I thought it might be … too much.”

“Too much for what, exactly?”