"Alone," Royce repeated.
Evelyn snapped her head back to the dining room. Her daddy was not only drinking wine with this woman, but now he was kissing her hand! As if they had been keeping company for days, weeks even!
"I'm so glad we've been spending so much time together," Daddy said, bringing Mrs. McArthur's hand to his lips. "I just wish we didn't have to sneak around the children."
"What they don't know won't hurt them." She giggled.
"Hmm… like mother, like son," Evelyn whispered at Royce then punched him in the arm. "This is entirely your fault!"
"Can you try to be quieter? And how in the world is this my fault?"
"Because it is!"
"Sound reasoning. And tell me, Detective, what other pieces of evidence will you falsify?"
Evelyn stuck out her tongue and groaned. Her daddy was reaching for a small jar of something that looked oddly familiar.
"Oh, my very own!" Mrs. McArthur clapped her hands excitedly. "I've never had Southern moonshine before!"
Royce tapped Evelyn on the arm, his lips in a firm line. "Is your daddy trying to get my mother drunk? Because if he is, I'm putting a stop to it right now! No wonder you can drink whiskey better than any man. You've been brought up by savages! Admit it, you've had moonshine!"
Evelyn didn't have time to answer, since both their parents were now happily drinking little shots of moonshine and laughing, completely ignoring the food set in front of them.
Not that Evelyn wanted to get caught, but she couldn't stop the little cry of outrage which flew out of her lips. Royce shot her an 'I'm going to kill you' look, and then promptly tackled her to the floor as her daddy ambled over to examine the tiny window.
He inquired what it was, and then sauntered off, taking the moonshine and Mrs. McArthur with him.
"I'm going to kill him," Royce said casually, as if he were talking about buying a new pair of shoes.
"My daddy? Please! What about your mama? She was just begging for Daddy to take advantage! 'Oh, Stuart, I've never had such marvelous moonshine!' Did you see the way she was touching his arm?"
Royce's eyes looked like they were going to snap right out of his head. "Excuse me? Are you calling my mother a streetwalker?"
"Well, you're calling my daddy a lothario! It's the same thing!"
"How do you figure?" Royce's voice had risen well above a whisper.
"We're going to get caught!" Evelyn snapped, pulling him closer to her. "At least they're out having fun, not trapped in some dark room spying!"
"Fun? How can you think of fun when our parents are busy seducing one another? Oh, Lord, the things that just crossed my mind! The staff has all been given the night off. They think they're alone. And now they've gone off God knows where!"
Evelyn laughed. "Calm down! We're alone, too." The reality suddenly dawned on her. She was all alone with Royce in a dark closet. No kitchen staff to watch over them. My, but it was hot in that little room. Suddenly too aware of the virile man sitting next to her, she scooted farther away.
"Don't tell me the infamous Royce McArthur has never been stuck in a small, confined space with a woman before," she said, silently hoping he would admit this was a first for him as well.
"I… well, I…" He licked his lips as if concentrating. "I have no desire to be with anyone but you right now. I can see by the look on your face I've scared you as much as I've scared myself. Right, then. I'll just go jump out my window now. Good night!"
"Royce, sit down! First, if you jump, I'll jump. Second, I hate heights; and third, you're just scared because you're so upset about your mother. You don't truly mean the things coming out of your mouth."
"Normally, I would agree with you."
"A shock you would agree with anyone … about anything … ever," Evelyn murmured, donning her hood again. "I doubt you can even properly seduce a woman without putting your foot in your mouth."
"I sure hope that's a challenge."
"It is, but you can't try it on me." He stepped closer. "Because…" She looked behind her, hoping to find an escape route. "I'm not looking for a fling."
"Neither. Am. I."
Chapter Nine
And the truth was, he wasn't. Looking for a fling, that is. He was positively enamored by this sweet and beautiful woman. So enamored, in fact, he couldn't care less about their original intent on spying. All he wanted was Evelyn, everywhere. How unfortunate they weren't somewhere convenient like a bedroom, or a sitting room, or anywhere with a floor that wasn't made of cold, hard marble.
His rakish habits clearly were in need of redemption, but all he could think about was the easiest way to get her into his arms. The good news of the whole night, and possibly the solution to his problem, was his plan had worked.
She was concerned about her daddy, and he was equally concerned about his mother, but he knew her to be a tough woman who could take care of herself. It also provided him a good excuse to be with Evelyn. All he needed to know was where their parents would rendezvous next. He would take Evelyn there, and it would be another excuse to spend time with her.
Smiling, he reached around the small bar in the room and drew out a bottle of wine.
"What's that for?"
"Us," he answered, retrieving two crystal flutes. "To celebrate a night of exceptional spying."
Taking the glass he offered, she began to sip ever so daintily, then downed the whole thing. "That was good!"
"Ah, yes. This is another one of our many businesses. We make the best wine you'll ever taste. Would you like some more?"
She nodded eagerly, and he poured another glass and then sat on the floor, patting the marble for her to join him. Hopefully her beautiful bottom wouldn't get too cold from sitting on it.
"So tell me," he crooned, taking a deep sip and closing his eyes, "what do you miss?"
Evelyn met his gaze. "What do you mean?"
"Ah, you can try to hide behind that beautiful smile, and you can pretend you love it here, but I know how New York really is. It's not the adventurous South. So tell me, what do you miss?"
She let out a long sigh and put her glass on the floor next to her. "I miss the weather. Sometimes it would get so humid I could scarcely breathe, but I loved it. That and the fireflies."
"Fireflies?"
She bit her lip thoughtfully. "Yes. Tiny little bugs that light up at night. They're beautiful. I used to catch them in jars."