Chapter 27

• He unfastened another button at the neck of his shirt, allowing a tantalising glimpse of brown flesh lightly covered with dark hair. His eyes narrowed, thick lashes veiling his expression. "Tilly told me you have been sick. What's wrong with you?"
• "What? Nothing. Nothing is wrong with me," Sasha retorted quickly, inwardly cursing Tilly for making a difficult situation worse. "You—you don't have to care. Tilly worries about me, that’s all."
• "She does worry a lot. With that, I agree." He paused, and she knew he was registering the color that had entered her pale cheeks as she spoke.