7. Chapter Seven

What was taking Evan so long? He and the earl had been in the library forever. If Evan were in there telling Alexander about their kisses, Katrina would never forgive him. And if he did not help her deal with Greyson, she'd…. Well, she would tell him exactly what she thought of him.

Ticking off his deplorable traits, she crossed her thumb over her palm. Number one. He was insufferable. Down came her index finger.

Two. He was arrogant.

Three. He was immature.

Four. He never took anything seriously.

Five. He'd put a frog in her tea and ruined her favorite pink dress.

She held up her other hand and continued her tally.

Six. He smirked all of the time.

Seven…. Hmm.

Seven, he smelled like citrus and mint. Eight, when naked, he had the physique of a carved-from-marble god. Nine, he was a superior kisser. Ten, his deep voice sent shivers up her spine. Eleven…she'd run out of fingers. But she needed one more. Sigh. Eleven, he had such a fine arse.

Angry at herself, she stomped her foot. "Bah!"

The door to the library opened, and Alexander and Evan exited. Smushing into an alcove, she tried to make herself invisible and waited before following them. To avoid detection, she kept her distance and tread lightly.

Alexander entered his room first.

Once Evan disappeared into his chamber, she made sure no one bore witness. She dashed down the hall, opened Evan's door, and entered.

He stood looking out his window. The crack of the door slamming closed made them both jump. He whirled to face her.

The daft fool had the nerve to grin at her. That crooked smile may have worked on other women, but it would not melt her heart. However, her tingling girl parts had a mind of their own.

"Katrina," he said, "please come in."

"I am already in."

His chuckle was deep and sultry.

She'd forgotten to put He is a sarcasticdevil on her list.

She composed herself—and her fluttering bits—then marched to him. "Wipe that absurd grin off your face. This is not a social call." She halted inches from him. Lifting her chin, she met his gaze.

His green eyes twinkled.

"Stop looking at me like that," she demanded.

Evan's hand shot to his heart. "Like what?"

She stabbed a finger in his chest. "You know what I am talking about."

Touching him may have been a mistake, for the second she did, something akin to a lightning bolt sent a wave of pleasure rippling through her.

Evan wrapped his hand around her finger. His heat scorched the blasted digit. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

How could he be so calm when a million emotions overcame her? Number one. He is insufferable, she reminded herself.

"You are insufferable!" she declared with a huff.

Evan leaned close. His breath tickled her cheek. "Need I remind you that you are the one who followed me into my chamber?"

"And arrogant."

To the devil with his provocative chuckle.

"And yet, here you are. Accosting me in my chamber."

"You are an emotional infant, and you never take anything seriously."

"Ouch," he said while staring at her lips as if he meant to devour them. "Are there any other insults you would like to hurl my way?"

She was not there to have her lips devoured. Was she? Nay! "Number five, you put a frog in my tea."

"Number five?" As if on cue, he smirked.

"Unbelievable." She tore her hand from his grasp and pointed at his mouth. "Exactly! That is number six."

"Number six?"

"Smirking. I hate when you smirk at me."

"Six?" he asked again.

"I've made a list of your most deplorable qualities."

There it was, out in the open. Now he knew she held him in low regard, and that should halt any lip devouring.

He frowned.

Good. She was sick of his twinkling eyes and devilish grin.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "How many items are on this list?"

"Eleven," she declared, resting her hands on her hips.

"Only eleven?" He quirked a brow. "Well, do not leave me in suspense."

Really, he had such nice eyebrows—thick and masculine and well-shaped. The next time he kissed her, she would gently run her finger over them—first one, then the other.

"I am waiting," Evan said.

He was waiting for her to kiss him and touch his eyebrows?

"What are numbers seven through eleven?" he asked.

"Oh."

Good heavens. This man messed with her resolve. And her common sense. But not so much that she would divulge seven through eleven. Besides, she was never kissing him again.

"Cat got your tongue?" he asked.

"No!"

In her imagination, Evan Eaton, the rake, had her tongue. In his mouth. Licking it.

"Do you know what I dislike about you?" he asked.

Suddenly, she wanted him to adore everything about her. "What?" she asked, feeling very much like the young girl he'd tormented so many years ago, instead of a darling of the ton.

"I loathe that you are so beautiful that you knock the wind from me," he said in his toe-curling baritone.

She gasped.

"I hate when you stomp your foot. It makes me want to give you the world to make you smile."

Now, he'd knocked the wind from her. But what if he was toying with her the way he played with all women? However, she really should stop stomping like a petulant child.

She stared into his eyes. They'd clouded over, and his lids dropped oh-so seductively.

"What else do you dislike about me?" she asked softly.

He was so close that his lips brushed her ear. "That your kisses haunt my dreams, leaving me a sleep-deprived fool."

They were even because the memories of his naked body left her a jumble of wanton inclinations she did not understand. Why in tarnation was she lifting onto her toes, asking, "Anything else?"

He clasped her hips, tugging their bodies together. His firm physique molded to her curves. So precise. So perfect. As if they were one.

His lips cupped her ear. "I loathe that I want to rip your clothes from your body, plant my face between your thighs, and listen to you scream my name as I devour you."

Good heavens! How indecent! And wanton. And sinful. She shivered.

Evan dropped his hands and backed away, leaving her lonely and aching.

He scraped his fingers through his hair. "I cannot do this. You need to leave. You are courting my friend."

How mortifying. Her quivering legs struggled to propel her toward the exit. As her hand reached for the door, her faculties kicked in.

"Wait." She swung to face him. "Evan, you must help me. I have no one else to turn to."

Apparently, the man had a serious side because concern consumed his countenance. His stride long, he was in front of her in an instant. "Is it Greyson?"

She nodded. "Yesterday at the beach, when he whispered in my ear, he said, ‘If you want me to keep your little indiscretion with Evan Eaton a secret, you will allow me to call upon you'."

Evan's nostrils flared. "I knew it."

"You knew he saw us?" she asked.

"I assumed as much, for why else would you consent to spend time with the blighter?"

Indeed. "If I do not agree to spend time with him, I will be ruined, and I despise the man."

She fought her tears to no avail. They tumbled down her cheeks.

"Katrina, you can never be alone with him." Staring into her eyes, he grasped her shoulders and gently shook. "Do you hear me?"

She heard him loud and clear, and his words attached to Aunt Justine's warning.

"Evan, he will ruin me," she said between sobs. "How could I have been so stupid as to allow you to do those things to me." Those wonderful titillating things. "And if the world hears of it, nothing will happen to you. You will be seen as virile and charming. I will be despised and ruined. And Lord Greyson…" She whimpered.

"Shh. You are safe right now." Evan's thumbs gently dried her tears. "I will fix this, Katrina. I will escort Greyson to hell myself."

"And what about Alexander?" she asked.

Evan swallowed. "Do you truly wish to court Springy?"

"Yes. He is my perfect match." So why did it feel as if a sharp pin poked holes in her heart? "He is a fine gentleman. So kind and handsome. And he will be a doting husband and a loving father. William and Ethan are in agreement. We shall join our families."

Evan closed his eyes and exhaled. When he opened them, he smiled at her. It wasn't his usual smart-arse grin. It was kind and comforting.

"Alexander is the best sort of man. Katrina, I am sorry for teasing you when we were children. And for all the times I've been a shite-sack. I swear on my life I will not let Greyson threaten or bully you. Especially for something I did."

Evan placed his hand on her back and walked her to the door. Meanwhile, she sniffled.

"Please go and dry your eyes." He peeked into the hall, then gently nudged her out of his chamber. "Hurry so no one sees you." Evan's alluring baritone had become whispered concern. "And I promise, Greyson will cease tormenting you. As will I."

Thereupon, he closed his door.

She didn't have time to stand there contemplating his promise or her overwhelming emotions. So, instead, she swiped at her tear-soaked face as she hurried to her chamber.