‘Right. So it’s just a marriage of convenience. No broken hearts to worry about at all.’
‘Exactly,’ said Max.
Leave it alone, Logan. Keep your big mouth shut.
But he couldn’t.
No way he could have Evangeline Jones for a sister-in-law and stay sane. It was as simple as that.
‘And if I said I already know your soon-to-be wife? That I met her a long time ago, long before she ever knew you? That for a week or so we were lovers?’ Logan’s voice sounded rough; the firewater was not, so he drank some more of it before turning to face his brother. ‘What then?’
Max stared at him for what seemed like an eternity. And then turned and strode from the room without another word.
Caroline Carmichael lingered once they reached the suite; a glorious eastern-facing bedroom with en suite, bay windows overlooking the garden and a sweet little alcove stuffed with a day-bed, and alongside that a bookcase full of surprisingly well-worn books.
‘It’s very feminine, isn’t it?’ murmured Caroline. ‘I’ve never put Max in this room before. Then again, he’s never brought a fiancée home either.’
‘I’m sure we’ll be fine.’ One big bed, one day-bed. Evie couldn’t have asked for a more suitable room.
Logan Black was Max’s brother. Everything was just fine.
‘Because I can put you in the adjoining room if you’d rather not be together before the wedding.’
‘Whatever you’re comfortable with, Mrs Carmichael.’ Evie made no false claim to virginity. She doubted she could have pulled it off. Besides, she could only manage one lie at a time, maybe two.
‘Please, call me Caroline,’ said Max’s mother easily. ‘It’s just that it occurs to me—as Max must have known it would—that your upcoming union might be a marriage in name only. A way for Max to access the money his father left him.’
‘Yes, Max warned me you might think that.’
‘Oh, there’s affection between you, anyone can see that,’ continued Caroline as she tugged at the curtains to make them absolutely even. ‘But I’m not seeing love.’
Evie eyed the other woman steadily. ‘What does love look like?’
‘Depends on the type,’ said Caroline Carmichael. ‘My first great love was Logan’s father and by the time we’d left the battlefield, love looked like a wasteland. But there was passion between us, passion to burn by. My second husband knew how to coax forth a steady flame, one that warmed me through and I thanked him for it every day of his life. But you and Max … Forgive me for being so blunt, but do you really intend to share this bed?’
‘None of your business, Mother,’ said Max from the doorway, determination in his voice and something else. Tightness. Anger. Max so rarely got angry. ‘I need to speak to Evangeline alone.’
Caroline left with a concerned glance for her son and Max shut the door behind her. Evie stayed by the bookshelf, arms crossed in front of her and her chin held high.
Surely Logan would have kept his sinner’s mouth shut.
Wouldn’t he?
‘Logan tells me he’s met you before,’ said Max.
Guess not. ‘Yes.’
‘When?’
‘Ten years ago, maybe more. I haven’t kept count. We met in passing. I was on a study exchange programme at the University of Greenwich. Your brother was doing something or other in London. I never did ask what.’
‘He’s the one, isn’t he?’ said Max. ‘The one who ruined you for all other men.’
‘I’m thinking ruined is too strong a word,’ said Evie. ‘I was definitely exaggerating and possibly maudlin when I mentioned that to you. I’m not ruined. I don’t feel ruined. Do I look ruined?’
Max took his time looking her over.
‘You look flustered,’ he said grimly. ‘You never get flustered.’
‘Not true. C’mon, Max. I had a fling with a man called Logan Black more than ten years ago. Five minutes ago you introduced him to me as your brother. I’m calling that one fluster-worthy.’ Heat flooded Evie’s cheeks and distress fuelled her temper. ‘I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry my past has come back into play. It was a pretty tepid past.’ With one notable exception. ‘It doesn’t have to impact the present.’
‘It just did.’
Hard to argue with that.
‘Do you still want him?’ asked Max.
‘No.’ And as if saying it louder would somehow make it true, ‘NO.’
‘Because he sure as hell still wants you.’
‘If your brother had wanted me, Max, he’d have found me. That much I do remember about him.’
But Max just shook his head and ran his hands through his hair. He didn’t look much like Logan except for his dark hair and olive skin. Their features were quite different. Their mannerisms not similar at all. No way she could have known.
‘I can’t believe he even told you,’ she muttered. ‘Why would he do that? What could he possibly hope to gain? Does he not like you? Is that it?’
‘We get on well enough,’ said Max.
‘Then why?’
‘Maybe he thought you were going to say something.’
‘Yeah, well, he got that wrong.’
Max cut her a level glance. ‘Honesty not really your strong suit these days, is it?’
‘Or yours,’ she snapped back. ‘You said you had a brother—I thought I’d be meeting Logan Carmichael. You never told me you had a half-brother named Logan Black,’ she said as her legs threatened to fold and she sat herself down on the day-bed. Think, Evie. Think. But her mind had left the building the moment she’d set eyes on Logan, and it hadn’t yet returned. ‘Your mother’s hosting a cocktail party in our honour in just over seven hours,’ she said, and put her head to her hands and the heels of her hands to her eyes and pressed down hard. ‘What’s the plan here? What do you want to do? Because I can go find her and apologise and tell her the engagement’s off, if that’s what you want.’
‘Evie—’
‘Or we could put in an order for a time machine. I could go back in time, find your half-brother and spurn his advances. Failing that, I could at least wring his neck afterwards. That’d work too.’
‘Evie—’
‘Because after that I’m fresh out of ideas, Max. I don’t know how to fix this without making even more of a mess.’ Evie’s throat felt tight, her eyes started stinging. ‘I didn’t know. I didn’t know he was your brother. I would never … If I’d known. The business…. God.’
The horror in Logan’s eyes that last time they’d been together when she’d cut her head on the too-sharp table leg. The trembling in his hands, the fear and self-loathing in his eyes. He’d taken her to the hospital and by the time they’d arrived Logan had pulled himself together, standing silent and sombre by her side until the nurses had asked him to wait outside.
‘There’s no problem here,’ she’d told concerned nurses firmly. ‘None.’
But they’d given her a business card and on it had been a number to call and she’d shoved it in her handbag rather than argue with them any more.
Logan had taken her home and