“Oh, you poor baby!” I croon, taking a step forward and taking Rafe’s face in my hands, angling it to study his cheek. “I’m so sorry, I was so eager to get that horse fly off your face that I must have swung too hard.”
I speak loudly enough that the people nearest us can hear, my face a mask of motherly concern. But my heart is still steel, and full of hatred for this horrible man.
Rafe smirks at me, nodding his head in concession. I’ve won this one. What’s his option at this moment besides going along with me? He’s certainly not going to cry like a baby, telling everyone that I smacked him.
“Barely a sting, Evelyn,” he murmurs, raising a hand to grasp my wrist. The gesture looks to everyone else like brotherly affection, but he grips my wrist harder than he needs to.
“Better put
