An Unlikely Alliance Page 2

  He let out a burst of laughter. "Miss De Jarlias, do you want to dance?"

  "With you?" she clarified.

  "Unless you want to go find—Betsy, was it?"

  She nodded, feeling slightly lightheaded.

  "Yes, well, I don't see her. I'm assuming she's a cow or some sort of farm creature. So it looks like you're stuck with me."

  Speechless, she followed him onto the dance floor for a waltz.

  The music began, and she became lost in the essence of what it felt like to live in a fairy tale. That is, until Royce opened his mouth.

  "So, when would be a good time to discuss your odd habit of crying in front of food? Or was it just the meat that set you off? I'm not here to pass judgment on a fellow lover of all things carnal, mind you. I just find it interesting that you were so moved by the delicacies in front of you, yet didn't take even one, tiny, tempting bite.

  Good Lord, it was hot in that ballroom.

  She drew a shaky breath and laughed awkwardly. "Well, I… that is…"

  "Yes, please continue," he mocked.

  "I'm not sure…" She rolled her eyes, giving up the good fight of etiquette. "I can hardly squeeze myself into my corset as it is. If I eat, I'll surely explode, and the first thing to go would most likely be my dress, sending buttons popping everywhere. I can see them now. Flying into people's champagne glasses, putting out someone's eye. The damage could be quite devastating. And the last thing I need is to embarrass my daddy." The Southern accent was back full force, causing her to feel a little better about life. Well, that and the fact she was dancing with the most beautiful man she had ever met—even if he was sin incarnate.

  He looked away at the end of her little confession.

  Their little flirtation was over with, it seemed.

  The dance ended. She curtsied and turned toward her father, but Royce grabbed her hand and pulled her back into his embrace.

  "I don't believe this is proper."

  "What do you mean?"

  She rolled her eyes. "I mean, it isn't proper for us to dance two dances in a row, sir."

  "Oh." He nodded his head. "Right, then. Follow me."

  She had no other option but to follow, as he literally dragged her through the crowd of curious onlookers and outside onto a balcony.

  "Well, that was rude." Wrenching her arm free, she was half tempted to slap him across his perfectly-chiseled jaw.

  "Yes, well, we have unfinished business."

  "We do?" Her voice was a mixture of dread and excitement. Curse her inability to look away from his alluring eyes.

  "Yes." His tone was clipped. Had she upset him?

  His eyes, now large and menacing, raked over her entire body before he held out a single hand and touched the side of her cheek, sending chills all the way down to her toes.

  Chapter Two

  Oh, he was trouble. She could feel it in her bones, could feel the way her entire body burned like it was on fire. If one light touch sent her into fits of passion, then surely more touching would lead…

  "I need to go." Evelyn stepped around him, almost reaching the door before she felt his hands on her hips.

  His breath was hot on her neck as his caressing whisper drawled, "I promise I'll feed you."

  Just what was he going to feed her? More likely she was to be the main course.

  She stiffened, too hungry, and angry that he would even try to seduce her upon their first meeting. "No."

  "No?" His voice held astonishment.

  "Yes. You do know the meaning of the word no. Right?"

  "People don't often use it in my presence."

  There's a surprise.

  "Well, I'm putting my foot down and saying no to you, right now."

  "So what you're really saying is 'not right now'?" He crooned into her neck again.

  "No. What I'm saying is no. Not now—not ever."

  He had the audacity to laugh.

  "So you mean yes?"

  What was with this man? Was he that dense?

  She turned around, thinking that violence would most likely be the best option at this point, and met perfection yet again. His face, once smoldering with unbridled passion, was now alive with humor and teasing.

  She had to look away before she cracked. Pushing back at the blond tendrils of hair which had escaped her coiffure, she swallowed. "No, Royce. You may not seduce me."

  "Oh, whatever shall I do?" he mocked, then straightened and looked at her blankly. "You think I want to seduce you?"

  Now he was just being rude.

  "Well…" It was obvious at that point that she was completely unprepared for being launched into society.

  And then, like a tiger stalking his prey, he pounced, nearly scaring her out of her wits as he pulled her flush against his hard body. "Trust me. You'll know, without a doubt, when I'm trying to seduce you, my sweet. Shall I demonstrate?"

  "Evelyn?" Her daddy's voice broke the lustful spell that had so suddenly taken hold.

  "Out here! I'm coming!" The voice escaping her mouth was unrecognizable in its haze of lust.

  Royce winked, then brought her hand to his lips once again and kissed her hand tenderly before motioning for her to take her leave.

  ****

  Royce was still smiling minutes after Evelyn left. She was more than a breath of fresh air. She was perfect. His mother would go into joyful hysterics. In fact, he would bet his fortune that not only would Evelyn be firmly secured by his family by the end of the night, but his own mother would applaud his good choice.

  The February air crackled with excitement. Although abnormally warm for this time in New York, it seemed to come alive as he took one last deep breath before re-entering the large dance hall. It was just as well that she left when she did. He'd had half a mind to seduce the poor thing out on the balcony. Then again, he had no idea who she was, only that she was intriguing. Not enough to base marriage on for normal people. However, he would not consider his situation normal.

  Four months. That was his timetable, and he had already mentally checked off at least half of the available girls in New York from his list. The other half had a myriad of tiny flaws that simply rubbed him the wrong way.

  Much like his brothers also rubbed him the wrong way, with their little idiosyncrasies and annoying habits.

  In fact, now that he thought on it, his inability to commit to anything made sense. It was nearly impossible for him to stay with the same woman for longer than a month. He was like a child with a new toy. Once the excitement was gone, it was time to move on. Suddenly it occurred to him why his mistresses might also be put out by him. Maybe his lack of concern was selfish, but he quite honestly didn't care. Women were just as fickle as men, especially women who wanted protectors.

  Upon entering the room, he spotted his mother with an unfamiliar short, stout man. He appeared to be in his late fifties. Hair was absent from his head, as well as any sort of facial hair, making him resemble a shiny billiard ball.

  Ignoring the longing glances from the young ladies by the refreshments, he made his way across the room to his mother and her companion.

  "Ah, here he is now," he heard her say before he bowed.

  "May I introduce Stuart De Jarlias?"

  The introduction should have caused warning bells in his brain, but all he could focus on was the mere fact that his mother's voice held more warmth for this strange man than normal.

  Shaking his head, he cleared his thoughts. "I presume you are the father of the Miss De Jarlias?"

  "Ah, yes." The man touched his bald head and smiled. "That girl is a rare treat. She's my everything. Why, I don't know what I'd do without her if she hadn't been here with me when her mama gone and died on us."

  Mr. De Jarlias was single-handedly butchering the English language. His Southern twang rang in Royce's ears. Good God, did these people have manners at all?

  "Daddy!"

  Evelyn joined the group and smiled, tugging on her father's sleeve like a small child. "I'm r
eady to go; are you?"

  Royce hid his disappointment. He wanted to explore Miss De Jarlias more. His brain told him it was mere curiosity, and his body … well, his body was telling him something else entirely as he allowed himself another peek at her delectable form.

  Pity she was hiding such curves underneath that dress. Her father must have made her wear something a little unfashionable in order to draw less attention. Granted, it was hard for her not to draw attention, what with her silver blond hair and violet eyes. A man would have to be dead or blind not to notice her.

  His body nearly groaned in agreement.

  "Well, it seems it is time for bed!"

  Oh, Lord. He said 'bed.'

  "Daddy! We don't say bed in public!" Evelyn scolded.

  Royce wanted to say more than bed in public but fought against arguing with the poor girl. No doubt she was tired and famished after fighting him off all night.

  "Well, thanks for the invitation. We shall see you tomorrow!" Mr. De Jarlias hooked his arm into Evelyn's and slowly walked away.

  "Tomorrow?" Royce asked, looking at his mother.

  "Yes, well…" She avoided eye contact and looked like she was ready to bolt.

  "Mother."

  "Oh, I do love parties! Don't you, Royce? So sparkly and fun."

  "Mother!" he scolded. "First, sparkly is a terrible word which, I'm certain, is not in the dictionary. And two, you're avoiding me like you do Aunt Terrance during Christmas. Now, what did you do?"

  "We are taking them to church tomorrow morning." Her eyes nervously scanned the crowds, and she took a large gulp of champagne.

  "We?" Apparently repeating the word made it less true.

  "Yes. We." Giving him a patronizing pat on the head, she glided away, leaving him wondering why he left his poor mother alone with the girl and her father.

  They didn't go to church.

  His mother went to church. He slept and drank and cavorted around with disreputable women.

  Did they even allow men like him into a church? He would find out all too soon.

  Chapter Three

  Evelyn awoke from a dreamy sleep. Many of the dreams were filled with one gentleman in particular. The sunlight poured in from the curtains, casting a glow across her face. It was in these moments of solitude that she missed Louisiana. Even though it was one of the newer American states, it still had such a rich culture. It was alive with promise and joy.

  It was one of the reasons that despite growing up on a farm, she was fluent in French and knew how to cook French cuisine better than the best chefs in New York. At the moment, all she wanted was some tea and to sit on a porch drowning in sunlight.

  But no, her father had agreed they would attend church with the McArthurs. She highly doubted that a man like Royce would be allowed in such a holy place. Wasn't God known to strike down men like him with a single lightning bolt?

  Throwing back the covers of her bed, she began the task of preparing herself for the day. It was going to be a long one if she had to sit next to the devil in church.

  ****

  Royce carefully stepped over the threshold into the church. He wasn't even embarrassed that he closed his eyes, waiting for God's wrath. Nor was he surprised when several women in the congregation waited in anticipation for the same thing. After a few seconds of patiently waiting for his inevitable death, he took another step and promptly bumped into another lady.

  He was opening his mouth for a perfect excuse, honestly he was. And then he realized it was Miss De Jarlias. She looked positively sinful in that dress of blue and white. He needed to control his arousal. He was, after all, on holy ground, and he could only deduce he was on borrowed time as it was.

  "Ah, Miss De Jarlias!" He bowed quickly, and then took her elbow. "You know, I'm pleased we could meet again at such a great … event." Poor word choice. Dear God, please don't strike me down. The girl would surely go with me at this range. Think of the girl!

  "I must say, I'm surprised, Mr. McArthur." Evelyn met his gaze with a cool one of her own and crossed her tiny little arms.

  "Surprised?" He cleared his throat. "What do you find surprising this beautiful Sunday morning?"

  "You. Being allowed in church. You. Not getting struck by lightning. And again you. Still standing on God's holy ground after staring at my chest more than twice since we've bumped into one another."

  "Maybe God's giving me a second chance." Royce managed not to appear as annoyed as he felt that Evelyn had noticed his lingering eyes. "Or it is possible God is very forgiving?"

  Evelyn snorted. "Or He's waiting to strike you when you least expect it."

  Royce glanced over his shoulder just in case she was right. He was definitely treading on thin ice, being on holy ground after the life he had been leading. The only thing that could make matters worse would be if the preacher stood up on the pulpit and shouted, "You sinner! Repent or burn!" He shuddered and silently led Evelyn to his family's pew on the left.

  Her eyes looked heavenward as he took his seat next to hers. "Praying already?"

  "For protection."

  "From who?"

  "The devil."

  "Ah, well, I doubt God would let him through the doors," Royce joked.

  Evelyn looked him up and down before answering. "Too late."

  One hour later, Royce was seriously considering the whole repentance business as the minister continued to preach about having to stand before God when one dies. He wasn't sure how he would account for all of the wrong he had done in his life.

  What was to be his excuse? Sorry, God, but my mistress was a redhead. You know how I like those! Somehow it didn't seem God would find that amusing, nor would He let certain sins slide depending on the personal preference of said sinner.

  Shaking himself out of his depressing thought, he took it upon himself to concentrate on Evelyn's legs, an altogether terrible idea, considering he was in church. His assessment of the merits of the idea was shortly confirmed when the lady in front of him, whom he later found out was the minister's wife, chose that exact moment to turn around and examine the crowd.

  Scowling, she swatted him with her fan and shook her head, reprimanding him like a small child. Unfortunately, his response was exactly what one would expect from a small child as well. The blood rushed to his face, and he jerked his head back to the minister and the sermon. His gaze never wavered until the last Amen was said.

  Because he spent the second half of the service terrified that the lady would turn around, he had forgotten to close his eyes during the prayer, thinking if he just stared hard enough, she wouldn't turn around and judge him again. It never occurred to him that ministers' wives didn't open their eyes in prayer like rakes did.

  As the service concluded he jumped out of his seat, ready for food, wine, and female company. Preferably in that same order.

  "So how about some lunch?" He turned to where Evelyn had been seated. But she was gone. Panicking, he glowered down the row, and then turned around suddenly, nearly knocking over his own mother.

  "Dear, what are you doing?" his mother demanded, waving a hand in front of his face. "Are you ill?"

  "No, just hungry. Say, have you seen Miss De Jarlias?"

  "She and her father are around here somewhere. They're staying for a light lunch with the pastor and his wife."

  Royce meant to shudder on the inside; instead he couldn't help it as his body convulsed at the thought of spending more time with the holy man and the woman who'd hit him with her fan. "No, thanks," he mumbled, stepping away from his mother. He would have to find another way to spend time with Evelyn. After all, if she was to be launched this year, she couldn't spend all her time with people holier than he was. Not that it would be a difficult feat, since it included over ninety percent of the population in his city.

  What he needed was gifts. And lots of them. It was sometime during the service he realized he wanted her. Not necessarily because he needed her. No, that wasn't any part of it. Nor was he in love wi
th her like some crazy cad. She just seemed the logical fit, and she was interesting to boot! Any woman who cried over food and was brave enough to send him to Hades was a woman he could live with forever. Now all he needed to do was convince her.

  "I don't like that smile," his mother observed, urging him down the long aisle leading to the outside doors.

  "What smile?" He could feel it growing wider.

  "The one plastered all over your sorry face. Oh, Lord, forgive him. He knows not what he does."

  "Oh, yes, I do."

  "You do what?" Her voice was half pleading.

  "Know exactly what I'm going to do."

  "And that is?" His mother stopped him in his tracks and pulled his shoulders towards her.

  "The usual: rubies, diamonds, clothing. Things that shine."

  "Are we talking about ways to attract wild animals?"

  Royce chuckled. "Oh, yes. I would most definitely put her in that category. I do love a good chase."

  His mother's face contorted with concern. "Dear, I very much like them. Her father is a hard-working man, just like your father, and well…" She didn't finish talking, but she didn't have to. Royce knew what she meant. No man could ever hope to compare to his father, which is exactly why Royce never wanted to try. He could never live up to him. Nobody could. It upset him that his mother was comparing the two men. It also made him wonder if what she saw in Mr. De Jarlias was the same irritatingly attractive thing he saw in Evelyn. He put his hand around his mother's shoulders. "Don't worry, Mother. She'll break. The strong ones just take longer."

  "I'm not so sure this one is the same as the others." She pushed past him and strode out of the building, leaving him with a sickening feeling that she might be right.

  Chapter Four

  Evelyn laughed when she saw the shocked look on Royce's face that Tuesday morning. Apparently the cad had been by her house four times in the past two days, each time dropping off little gifts and trinkets fit for a mistress, more so than a lady. Not that she knew much about mistresses.