Chapter 290: Where Have You Been?

Avery looks around with desperate panic. At any second, Andrew will walk through the door, and there's nowhere for her to hide. Evan starts thrusting again, and she can tell he's getting close to finishing. His movements are rough and punishing, and he pulls her closer to him. His breathing goes rough and ragged, and his eyes filled with determination. He bites her shoulder, and she curls her fingers into her palms.

Evan groans, and his body tenses on top of hers, and then he slowly relaxes. Reluctantly, he pulls himself out of her and pulls the quilt over their heads. He's still on top of her, and the weight of his body and clean dampness of his skin overwhelm her. Beneath him and the thick quilt, it's almost impossible to breathe.

Hurried footsteps approach the bed, and she tries to hold her breath. She hears Andrew clear his throat, and Evan rolls off her and pulls the quilt off his head. She bites down on her tongue and digs her fingers into her palms, wondering if Evan will betray her to Andrew.

"Mr. Clifford, don't you think it's a bit impolite to interrupt me when I'm doing something so personal?" Evan asks.

Beneath the sheets, she feels his hand searching. He finds her breast and traces a slow circle with his fingertip. She bites her tongue harder and forces herself to stay still.

"I'm looking for my fiancée," Andrew says. "I'm pretty sure I know exactly where I'll find her, too."

Evan pinches her nipple and asks, "Why would she be here?"

Avery gasps quietly. She wants to get away from Evan's hand or kick him under the covers, but it's too dangerous to move. His smell overwhelms her, and she feels dizzy and hot.

"We've checked every place on board," Andrew says, his voice sounding closer. "Well, everywhere but your rooms, of course."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Clifford, but your fiancée isn't here," Evan says.

There's a long silence, and then Andrew asks, "Are you serious?"

"Always," Evan says.

"Well then, you won't mind if I search the room, will you?" Andrew asks, his voice defiant. 

"It all depends on where you want to search," Evan says with a low chuckle. "You can look anywhere but under my sheets. My new lover is a shy woman."

"What if I insist?" Andrew asks. "It could be her under there. Besides, everyone says you can't have any other woman—something about a tattoo?"

"This is my bedroom," Evan says, his voice low and dangerous. "What gives you the right to burst in here while I'm with a woman and demand to look around?"

Avery feels a drop of sweat trickle down her back. She wants to wipe it away, but she can't move. The thick quilt feels suffocating, and her skin feels burning hot. She wonders if she'll pass out. If he doesn't leave soon, I might, she thinks.

"Mr. Clifford, may I show you out?" Robert asks.

Avery's heart pounds in her chest. Will he leave? She wonders. Or will he stay and look under the covers? Andrew sighs loudly, and Avery strains her ears to hear his footsteps on the thick wool carpet. The door creaks open and then closes with a loud bang. Evan pulls the quilt away, and the cold, air-conditioned air washes over her. She shivers as the sweat cools on her skin.

"Untie me," she says, tugging her arms.

Evan nods and unknots the silk ties. Her shoulders ache, and her wrists are red. She stretches her arms and rubs the soft skin of her wrists, wondering how she'll explain the marks to Andrew. Evan sits on the edge of the bed and watches her with a strange look in his eyes.

"You should shower before you return to Andrew," he says. "I'll have a servant press the wrinkles out of your clothes." 

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She nods, and he wraps his arms around her waist and picks her up bridal style. She's too tired to protest as he carries her to the bathroom. He puts her down in the shower and turns the water on. She puts her palm on his chest and shakes her head.

"Get out," she says. "I want to shower by myself."

Evan shrugs and leaves the bathroom. She stays in the shower until the water starts to cool, scrubbing every inch of her body. The hot water calms her, and she tries to forget about what she's just done with Evan. When she gets out, her suit is hanging for her on the bathroom door. She dresses and dries her hair.

Evan is sitting in the living room dressed in a clean suit, and her handbag is on the table in front of him. She grabs it and looks through it—her phone and wallet are still there, but the recording pen is gone. She sighs, slings her bag over her shoulders, and heads toward the door without a word. 

"Well, Miss Peters, it's clear now that you prefer affairs," Evan says. "I wish I'd known that before I went to all that trouble to make you my wife."

"I don't care what you think about me," she lies. "And this will be the last time you ever lay hands on me. I hope you enjoyed it."

"Have you slept with Andrew yet?" Evan asks.

Avery bites her tongue and turns the door handle. What should I say? She wonders. If I say I have, he might leave me alone, or he might get jealous and try harder to get me into bed again. If I say I haven't, he might think he still has a chance with me. Her palms start to sweat, and she wipes them on her pants.

"Answer the question," Evan says.

She shakes her head and opens the door. Suddenly, Evan is behind her. He slams the door shut and turns her to face him. He tilts her head upward and stares deep into her eyes.

"Miss Peters, I've asked you a question," Evan says. "It's easy—I just need a yes or a no."

"No," Avery snaps. "Now, let me leave."

Evan nods once and then backs away. He puts his hand in his pocket and walks back to the sofa with perfect ease. She opens the door and rushes into the hall before he can change his mind. As she walks to Andrew's room, she wonders why Evan let her go so easily.

She touches her keycard against the reader on the door, ready to fight with Andrew. She's not sure what excuse she can make. If he really searched the whole ship, it'll be hard to think of a convincing lie, she thinks. She's surprised to see that Andrew's not alone in the room.

He's stretched out on the silk sofa, and a tall doctor bends over him. A leather case sits on the floor next to the sofa, and Avery can see a stethoscope hanging out of it. The doctor straightens up and scribbles something on a touchscreen tablet before turning back to Andrew.

"Mr. Clifford, the HLA matching has been very successful, and your body seems to be accepting the new heart," the doctor says. "But you need to continue to take immunosuppressants to prevent your immune system from attacking the heart. You also need to rest. That means no heavy exercise and very gentle, limited sex."

Andrew raises his eyebrows and glances at Avery, and she feels her face go red. The doctor turns to see what Andrew's looking at, and Avery glares at him. He looks down at his tablet in embarrassment and writes something else. Avery crosses the room and tries to take the tablet from the doctor, but he yanks it out of her reach.

"This tablet contains sensitive medical records," the doctor says. "No one can look at it without Mr. Clifford's permission."

"I see," she says, trying to get a better look at the tablet.

The doctor catches her looking and locks the screen. Even from a distance, she can tell that it's protected by fingerprint—Andrew and the doctor are probably the only ones who can unlock it. She sighs and looks down at Andrew. He buttons his shirt and levels a cold, sober look at her. 

"Where have you been?" he asks.

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