His brown eyes lit on fire. Something hit Ally like a brick in the gut. This was real. Here was the real Evan that he kept hidden underneath his stiff convention. His splendid looks were suddenly all the more captivating. This was a man who wouldn’t back down in a fight, who would kiss a woman senseless, who would…
She shivered and warmed—an odd sensation to feel such opposite temperatures at once. Her nipples hardened against the linen.
Ally wanted to see more.
“I most certainly will go with you,” she said. “I’m perfectly used to going without, and I’m not some pampered proper lady. I’ll not slow you down. I promise you that.”
He sighed and raked his fingers through his soaking hair. “Very well, then. At least you’ll be with me and I’ll be able to keep you safe. I didn’t relish the thought of leaving you here.”
“What in the world ever gave you the idea you could control me, Evan?” She smiled sweetly.
He shook his head. “God only knows.”
Ally couldn’t help giving him a sly smil
e. “What do we do now? We’ve nothing to read, no cards… I don’t even have my blasted knitting.”
Evan let out a chuckle. “You don’t seem the knitting type.”
“I’m not. I abhor it. But with Lily and Rose both in the family way, I’m knitting baby booties. It’s what’s expected.”
“Frankly, you don’t seem the type to ever do what’s expected.”
She smiled again. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Then, “I know what we can do. Let’s play truth.”
Evan raised his eyebrows. “Truth? What is that?”
“A game Sophie and I used to play with Lily and Rose when we were younger. You can ask anyone anything, and they have to tell the truth. If they refuse, they have to do something you tell them to do.”
“What fun is that?”
“It’s loads of fun, actually. And we’ve nothing but time on our hands. I need something to take my mind off food.”
“Very well, then.” He adjusted his toga. “Ask away.”
“Hmm. All right.” What to ask? Or rather, what did she have the nerve to ask? What she wanted to ask would be frowned upon in mixed company. “Tell me about your mother.”
“That’s not a question, Alexandra.”
“Ally, please. And touché. What was your mother like?”
“For God’s sake, where are the parameters? My mother was a complex individual. I could write an entire book about her.”
“Give me the abridged version.”
“Why are you so interested in my mother?”
“Sorry, it’s not your turn. You must answer my question first, and then I shall answer yours.”
“Of all the blasted— Fine. My mother was a lovely woman. Her name was Maureen. She thought herself plain of face, but I thought she was lovely. Her hair was light brown, about the same color as yours, actually, and she had warm brown eyes. I favor my father, as you know, but people say I have her eyes.”
“Did she love your father?”
“Yes, I believe she did.”
“But he was never in love with her, was he?”
Evan shook his head, his brown eyes cast downward. “No, he was not. It was an arranged marriage. My mother deserved better.”