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He scrubbed his face. He’d ruined it himself.
And then a set of gentle fingers touched his arm. “Your Grace?”
He turned to look down into Evie’s clear blue gaze. “Lady Evelyn?”
“Shall I help you?”
His mouth opened to bark out a no. He wanted this game over and he wished to move onto another where he might have her to himself. But he snapped his jaw shut and gave a nod of assent. She’d surely not go off with him if he yelled at her now.
And then something miraculous happened.
She slipped her lovely arms about him, gripping the mallet right along with him, her fingers sliding over his. Her front pressed to his back, her warm breath tickling the back of his neck.
All the tension in him melted at her touch.
“Are you ready, Your Grace?”
How he’d like to hear her use his given name again, whispered close to his ear. He looked back at her, the sight of her pressed to his back filling him with both affection and desire.
And then she pressed her cheek between his shoulder blades. The brush of her face against his coat making his own eyes close as he stopped breathing for a moment.
He opened them again, their hands working as one to give the mallet a brisk swing, sending his ball hopping through the third hoop.
But better than that, he’d found his center again. He wished she could stay pressed to his back longer. He’d like to reach back and wrap an arm about her, place a kiss on the top of her head.
But she untangled her arms from around him, moving away.
“Thank you,” he murmured, half turning to brush his fingers along her bare arm just above her elbow.
“You’re welcome,” she replied as she stopped once again, staying just within his reach.
How wonderful would it be to kiss her? Press his mouth to the soft, lush skin of hers.
“Evie?” the countess called out. Evan knew it was her even though he didn’t take his gaze from Evie’s. Still, the tension returned once again.
When he’d taken her from the library, he’d felt as though he were rescuing Evie in some small way.
Of course, she’d just gone and saved him right back.
It was his turn.
“Yes, mother?” Evie answered grimacing as she spun about to face her mother.
But Evan deftly stepped around her, placing himself between Evie and the countess.
* * *
Evie blinkedin surprise as she stared into the broad back of the Duke of Wingate. He only seemed to expand as he stood like a wall between her and her mother. “My lady,” he said, his voice frosty as it boomed across the lawn.
“Your Grace,” her mother replied, her surprise evident in the breathy tone.
“Enjoying your day?”
“I am,” her mother said recovering her usually tenacity. So much so, Evie could practically hear her purse her lips. “I’m glad to see my daughter outside as well. And that dress. So becoming, dear.”
Evie winced, knowing full well that a very long lecture was coming that evening. Wearing it had still been worth the trouble her act of defiance would bring later.
And her mother meant well, she truly did.
