Eve leaned against the sink and shifted her weight from one leg to another. She was still a little unsteady, so Ray found it hard to leave her alone.

"I'll stay outside the door. If you get dizzy or anything else happens, call me right away. I don't want you slipping or hurting yourself," he said sternly, turning the shower faucet and backing out of the stall.

"Okay," the redhead mumbled, tugging at her dress. Her cheeks were still covered in that enchanting blush.

"Of course, you can always call me if you want company!" Ryker couldn't help but wink at her before leaving her alone.

The water splashed dully. The steam rose and fogged up the windows and mirrors.

Ray hadn't closed the door, but he had only left it ajar enough to block his view. After leaving the bathroom, he leaned against the wall opposite and repeatedly stroked his straight, brown hair. The desperate gesture had completely disheveled the strands and given visible expression to the storm inside him.

Again and again, his eyes fell on the dark wood, behind which the crackling sounded and distorted the tones. He didn't want to leave her alone—not after everything that had happened that evening and certainly not because she had been drinking and a lot could happen in the shower. But he understood Eve wanted to rid herself of the sticky mixture and possibly clear her head.

Perhaps also because of what had happened between them in the hallway?

Did she regret it?

Had he gone too far?

Worry tightened his chest like iron chains binding him. Only a moment ago, he had wondered what was worrying him so much. He didn't know what to do with the strange feelings piling up inside him like little pebbles daily.

But even he, who had run away from so much for years, could no longer hide from the facts and turn away from what was so obvious: he had feelings for Evelyn... Kaylen... whatever, he didn't care now. The name was unimportant—just a few letters on paper. A name said nothing about the kind of person behind it. More important, at least for his situation and the whole problem, was her real last name: Conner.

He needed to talk to Eve about Dylan, the mission, and just about everything. Preferably as soon as possible, before Eve's (ex?) husband actually showed up here and dropped the bomb, especially after what had happened tonight.

Just the thought of how she would react turned his stomach. But ... she had a right to know the truth. How would anything develop between them if the ground was already poisoned?

A low rumble inside the bathroom startled him as if he'd been whipped. His heartbeat quickened instantly, and his heart beat up to his throat before he pushed himself off the wall and slapped his hand against the wood with a jerk. He pushed the door open without thinking and rushed back into the bathroom against all reason.

His gaze wandered hectically through the bathroom and finally found Eve slumped on the floor, her back against the edge of the bath. She had wrapped her arms around her legs and lowered her head to her knees. The first thing that got through to him was the sound of the shower and ... sobs. When Eve lifted her head for a second, he could see the tears on her skin before she crouched down again, her hair falling in messy waves around her legs.

"Eve," he gasped, stumbling across the distance and sinking in front of her. He was only marginally aware of the dark fabric that had fallen from her lying in tangled heaps on the floor. Ryker's heart pounded as she crouched before him on the pale tiles, exposed and naked as she had been created. But he concentrated on keeping his gaze fixed only on her face.

Instinctively, his hands shot forward, and he leaned towards her. His fingers touched the soft skin as he tenderly cupped her cheeks, lifted her head a little, and tried to wipe away the tears that kept welling up.

"Evelyn? Are you all right? Have you hurt yourself? Did you fall?"

The questions poured out of him as he tried to get her attention. He wanted to free her from the prison of her dark thoughts, just as she had done with him. Ray felt her timidly shake her head and shakily suck the air into her lungs.

"Evey," he tried again, sliding closer to her trembling body. "Come, look at me. Talk to me," he pleaded, and the seconds dragged on agonizingly until her gaze finally lifted, and the blue-green lakes finally met his. Her eyes were red, and the fresh tears smeared her blurred skin.

She didn't seem to be hurt. He quickly reached for one of the towels and placed it over Eve's shoulders to make her feel safer.

"What happened?"

It left him no peace and gnawed at him like a mouse at the roots of an ancient, sturdy tree. The sight made him sway. He was losing his footing. And all because she was sad and he couldn't bear to see her like this.

Her lips quivered as she drew in a shaky breath.

"Please," he heard her sniffle. "Please stop, Ray," she finally groaned, sobbing and shaking her head slightly. "What do you want from me? What ... Why are you doing this?"

"What?" Every word that came over her trembling lips hit him like a blow. His eyes widened with incomprehension because he didn't understand what he had done wrong. Had Eve had more to drink than he had thought and was now talking nonsense?