Page 69 of Seducing the Knave

After toweling off, he crossed to his bed and slipped beneath the sheets. With a rough sigh, he stacked his hands beneath his head and stared up at the canopy, searching for the most effective way to get Elle off that bloody sofa and into his bed.

“Who is Caillie?”

The question startled him. Not only the fact that she spoke unexpectedly into the silence but also the nature of her inquiry itself. He stiffened, his jaw tightening as he stared more pointedly at a seam in the canopy.

“Where d’ye hear that name?”

“From the young lady herself. She brought you another book.”

A few things from her response caught his attention. First was the slightly injured tone in her voice. She tried to conceal it with a forced airiness but he heard it. Second was the fact that she said another book, suggesting Caillie had been surprisingly forthcoming, a peculiar choice for the hoyden who was upfront about many things except when it came to her own clandestine activities. Lastly was the suspicion that Elle must have been struggling rather intently with her curiosity for her to bring it up now when she could’ve just kept pretending to be asleep.

“She did, did she?” he asked casually. “I s’pose she was right shocked to see ye here.”

“About as shocked as I was that she’d so boldly enter your bedroom.”

There was a slight pause as Max considered the hint of jealousy in her tone. Then he chuckled. “Caillie likes to do what she’s told not to.”

“Yet, you don’t seem upset by her intrusion. She’s welcome here, then?”

“To an extent.”

“You still haven’t told me who she is.”

“Yer right, I haven’t.”

The woman made a soft sound of frustration as she shifted restlessly on the sofa.

Max’s body hardened.

“Is she your lover?”

“Bloody hell,” he exclaimed. “The chit’s barely seventeen.”

“And I’m just twenty,” she retorted.

He lowered his voice to an intimate tone. “Are ye me lover, princess?”

Her snort was filled with feminine exasperation. But she didn’t deny it.

He liked this bit of jealousy in her. The woman had some possessive tendencies he rather enjoyed. But he didn’t want her stewing in unnecessary anger. “If ye must know, Caillie’s me sister.”

“Oh my God, Max, you don’t have to lie. That girl was clearly of the upper class, not to mention Scottish. How could she possibly be your sister?”

“The same way the Earl of Wright’s me brother,” Max answered honestly. “We share a right villainous bloke fer a sire. The prior earl made it a point to plant his bastards across Britain to get revenge against his faithless wife. The arsehole succeeded.”

A weighted silence met his explanation as Max suspected she was sorting through whether or not to believe him. Surely, she’d heard stories of the Wright family in her prestigious circles. Though Colin had never forced any of his siblings to endure a public declaration, neither had he bothered to conceal the consequences of his father’s perfidy, and rumors of the Wright bastards had caused significant scandal some years ago.

Was it really so hard to believe Max might share blood with a noble earl and a bright young woman of quality? His lips twisted.

Probably.

When she finally interrupted the lengthy silence with a heavy sigh, he propped himself up on his elbow to gaze across the room. He couldn’t see her on the sofa, but he could hear her restless movements. If he didn’t do something, they’d both end up suffering through the night. And she was by far the more stubborn between the two of them.

“Come here, luv.”

His voice was low, but she stilled instantly at the gentle command in his tone. For a moment, he thought he could hear the quickening beat of her heart. Then she took an audible breath.

“Why would I do that?”

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