Chapter 47

Having undone the rusty catch, Cass tried easing the window upward. It wouldn't budge much more than a fraction. Certainly not without screeching and alerting half the household. Had she not needed fresh, cooling air, she wouldn't have bothered. She wiped her hands down her robe, then tried again, managing to push the window as far as it would go.

"I'm sorry." Devorlane Hawley's voice drawled from the bed, sending a shockwave up her spine. Another to match the several that had rocked it already.

Sorry?

"For sweating so badly."

She stiffened, fighting what rose in her as she stared upward at the catch. Oh God, did she need to hear him making whining excuses? No, because then she might forgive him, and she'd no desire to forgive him. Not for what he'd done, not for what he'd said. Not for damn well hanging about in her bed when what her whole self, every jangled bit of her, demanded, was him to damn well clear off and leave her alone, either.

"Oh, don't trouble yourself."