The man before her eyes still seemed like that defiant young boy from back then, broke but unyielding.
She raised her hand and caressed his face.
"Awake?"
Steven startled awake, his first instinct to reach for her forehead.
"Good, the fever's gone. Evelyn, why didn't you tell me you were running a fever?"
Evelyn opened her mouth. Hadn't she told him? She had, but he'd accused her of faking it.
"Why are you here? Don't you need to tend to your mistress?"
"What mistress? Evelyn, nothing has ever happened between us—I've never touched her. I just thought she was pitiful and wanted to help. That's all there is to it."
He held her hand, his gaze sincere, yet his words and heart were spinning lies.
Evelyn asked calmly, "Can you tell me how you met?"
Steven said they'd met at an auction
