An Unlikely Alliance Read Online Free PDF Page B

situation. Can't have you bragging about your drinking,
having never had the finest McArthur whiskey New York has to
offer."
    Evelyn tried to ignore the gentle tug of
warmth she felt in the carriage with him. The man had entirely too
much charm to do any good.
    "Tonight," she said, surprising herself.
    "Tonight what?" he asked, dumbfounded.
    "Tonight," she leaned towards him, "you can
give me a sip of your famous whiskey. Will that be enough to
satisfy your morbid curiosity?"
    Licking his lips, he brought his face within
inches of hers, which was quite a feat for bouncing around in a
coach as they were. "A taste? A moment? Just one? With you? Will
never be enough."
    It was silent the rest of the way to the
theatre.
    As Royce took her arm, she fought every
fool-hearted emotion threatening to spill over into her thoughts.
By the time he had led her to the box, she was so tightly wound one
more touch from him would have surely tipped the scales in his
favor. He was winning her over! Curse him!
    She jerked her hand free of his arm and
plopped into the nearest seat, not realizing her plopping was quite
loud. Two men stood and introduced themselves as Royce's brothers.
Heat crept up her neck as Royce introduced her. As if her
embarrassment couldn't get worse, Royce decided to sit right next
to her. His thigh was touching hers in the most improper way,
making her want to lean against the opposite side. Except that's
where his brothers were seated. She couldn't escape. And, for the
love of God, she needed a fan!
    "You look flushed, m'dear; are you
okay?"
    Royce's low voice surprised her, causing a
little squeak to escape her lips. She looked up to the ceiling,
hoping something would drop on him, so at least her heart would
stop beating so erratically!
    "Maybe some air?" she managed to
suggest.
    Nodding, he helped her up and escorted her
out of the box. As soon as they were outside, she was able to
breathe again. The crisp night air was just what she needed. And
then she looked at Royce, leaning against the stairs with arms
folded, and suddenly felt hot again. None of her discomfort had to
do with temperatures.
    Closing her eyes and sending up a quick
prayer to resist the devil of a man, she marched toward him and
pasted a smile across her face. "I'm ready!"
    "Liar." Unmoving, he stared at her.
    "No, I'm fine."
    "Are we going to stand here in the cold and
argue all night, or shall I take you home? You don't look
well."
    "A gentleman never tells a lady she doesn't
look well."
    He smirked. "Good thing I'm nothing of the
sort. Now let's take you home and get some whiskey into that
beautiful mouth of yours. Then we'll send you right to bed."
    "I'm surprised you can say bed and whiskey
in the same sentence without trying to seduce me." Suddenly Evelyn
wasn't feeling very well at all. Maybe something was wrong with
her. She felt herself swaying and just had time to pull on Royce's
jacket before the blackness overtook her.
     
    ****
     
    Blast! Royce cursed as Evelyn's limp body
fell into his arms. He called for the coach and lifted her inside,
careful not to ruin her pretty dress. He laid her across his lap.
"Love, can you hear me?"
    Evelyn's eyes were still closed. God, she
was beautiful. He was a fool not to notice just how much until now.
Every part of her was lush, feminine. But her face—even sleeping,
she was aglow with warmth. Part of him still wanted to seduce her;
the other part wanted to stare and pretend he was good enough to be
sitting by her side, when he knew in his heart he wasn't even good
enough to breathe the same air.
    "Wake up, love," he whispered again.
    Her eyes fluttered open. A part of him, the
selfish vain part that he wasn't particularly fond of, died. In its
place was a desire to put her health, her ambitions, her needs
above his own. He was lost, and he hoped to stay lost forever.
    "Can you speak?" His hands roamed over her
face as if to memorize the way her lips felt against his
fingertips, or the way her cheek