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“Good.” Abruptly, he pulled back, slapped her on the bottom, and said, “Now move along so I can get ready.”

Huh.

Not the way she thought that was going.

But she left anyway.

And it wasn’t until she was alone in her room that she realized she had never asked him why he was doing this and what he was getting out of it.

And more importantly, why he suggested the fake courtship in the first place when they were practically in the middle of a fight. After their moment of intimacy, she had shown him all levels of her crazy controlling behaviour, which had obviously upset him. And rightly so, now knowing all that she did.

All the same, he’d chosen to protect her from embarrassment. Pure mortification, if she was being more honest. Yet he had protected her, despite all the reasons he had to leave her to the wolves, laugh at her, or at the very least, leave her to fend for herself.

And as she readied for dinner, pondering that strange thought did even stranger things to each and every part of her body, not that she’d list her heart among them.

Chapter 13

Ash

“What the hell were you thinking?” Soren reamed him out in low, grumbly tones that normally did not emanate from him. “This is just one giant mess after another.”

“It’s better this way. Trust me.”

“I don’t trust anything you say right now.” Soren stood in the parlor shaking his head at him, and he could only assume by Rafe’s facial expression that he was doing the same thing internally.

“Why’d you do it?”

Trust Rafe to ask the question of the hour. The day. The month. The year. Forget it, the decade. Why was Ash doing any of this?

“She needed protection. After what you told me about her needing to save face, how could I let her look the fool in front of everyone?”

“You could have played it off as a joke. You didn’t need to add the lie about courting her.” Soren looked on with pity as he took a sip of his drink and then anchored himself against the mantle.

“Yes. Why exactly did you add that part?” Rafe hummed while stroking his jaw.

“I—” He didn’t know. It just seemed like the necessary action to take. Maybe because the only events that had been on his mind leading up to that moment were of her in his arms.

He couldn’t answer the question. What could he say? He needed to do it? He needed her? For some inexplicable reason. It all sounded like a giant ball of chaos in his ears.

But thankfully he was saved from answering the question because Corisande and her mother walked in just then.

Or perhaps, he wasn’t quite saved. The two newcomers were soon followed by Verity and her twin sisters. And the countess studied each step taken by the hostess.

“I can’t believe it,” she spoke gently—but firmly—to him just as a tray of drinks was presented to her. Taking one and lifting it to her lips, her eyes tracked Verity’s every move. She was at Rafe’s side when she asked him, “Did you know about the couple before today?” It was as direct a question as any, and clearly Rafe hadn’t been expecting it. No one had been.

Rafe tugged on one sleeve and then the other, checking that they each matched in length. Once pleased with their measurements, he looked up—briefly—at the countess, then flicked his eye over to Ash, before finally saying, “I did not know about this before today. No.”

The countess clicked her tongue. “My, my, they have been discreet. For some reason.”

By the way she drew out the word some, Ash’s hands curled up into fists. There was no need for the countess to call their actions into question. Verity was a widow and could do as she pleased. There was no need to gossip.

“Excuse me,” he murmured, leaving his friends and the scandalmongers behind.

He had a mission. To be the besotted fool. It was a part that he had no qualms playing, especially given her gown this evening. In fact, this could be quite enjoyable for the both of them if they let it be.

Snagging a drink, he made his way to her. There, he put one hand on her waist, the other offering the drink, as he murmured, “You look lovely this evening.” And he was pleased to notice the small hairs on the back of her neck rise in response.

“Thank you,” she said, taking the cup. And he watched as her lips touched the glass. Jealous.