"You're awake?"
Preston Keaton's index finger curled slightly as he gently brushed her soft cheek. "We're having dinner with my family and Henry's. We'll go home after we eat."
Evelyn Grant's eyes widened in stunned disbelief.
The shock chased away every last trace of her sleepiness.
She instinctively glanced down at her outfit—a white dress. It was modest, perfect for hiding the marks on her body.
But...
She couldn't help but take a deep breath. Lifting her chin, she looked at him, the corners of her watery eyes still tinged a pitiful red. "You're horrible! You knew we were going out for dinner tonight, but you kept me up all night."
Preston Keaton apologized immediately, planting soothing kisses on her face. "I'm sorry, baby."
'He hadn't planned on bringing her at first.'
'But he'd changed his mind.'
