Why was Eva out in the car park? And unwell? Was this one of those signs of pregnancy? He couldn’t very well ask Mitzy. It would be all over the island before he reached his car. Think. “Thanks, Mitzy, no. Eva mentioned having a headache earlier. She was in the fields today and forgot her hat. I expect she’s gone out for some air.”
“Silly girl. With that fair complexion and red hair, she should always wear a hat.”
“True. I’ll find her and see if she wants to go home. Goodnight.”
It took him several minutes to escape the round of goodbyes and reach his car. If Eva had been headed in this direction, he’d missed her. He circled back through the garden, disturbing a couple in a dark bower but coming up empty-handed. Where was she?
Preoccupied, he returned to his Jeep. Had she found a ride home with someone else? But why, without telling him?
Heck Adams was smoking a cigarillo beside his car and ambled over. “Not allowed to smoke these beauties anymore. Doctor’s orders. Don’t tell my wife, eh, Luc, my boy?” He dragged in a lungful and held it for a while before exhaling, then tapped him on the arm with the hand holding the cigarillo. Ash flecked his sleeve as the glowing tip of the cigarillo wove a lazy path back up to Heck’s mouth. “Just wanted to say it’s a damned disgrace the way Benson’s manipulating the Board.”
His mind wasn’t on Heck Adams and his foul-smelling cigarillos or Benson and the board for that matter. Eva’s auburn curls and green eyes filled his thoughts as he ran a hand through his hair and searched for a polite response. “What are you talking about?”
“The Tourism Board contract. They’re talking about awarding it to your little redhead. Damned stupid move, and I told ‘em so. Need someone with experience and a stake in the island, not an English accent and a pretty face.”
Great way to cap a shitty evening. Lost: one fiancée and one tourism contract. Could he make it three strikes?
“She looked pasty when she asked Jack Lyons for a ride home.”
Strike three.
“Jack took Eva home?”
“Guess she couldn’t find you. Word to the wise, my boy, awfully poor form to let another man take your woman home. She might think you don’t love her. Night.” He shoved the cigarillo between his teeth and strolled away.
He watched Heck’s receding back and wondered what the hell he was doing standing alone in a car park when Jack was probably even now escorting Eva up her front stairs. He ground his teeth and thumped the panel of his Jeep.
Eva and Jack—alone. Not going to happen.
He swung into the driver’s seat and floored the Jeep out of the car park and along the dark road leading to Eva’s place. Why had she left without him? Why did she ask Jack for a lift?
###
Jack seemed content to drive at a leisurely speed when all Eva wanted was to get home and sleep. Her head thumped and her heart ached while her stomach felt like she’d just disembarked from a rollercoaster ride. No matter how she felt about Luc, it was clear he didn’t reciprocate. Genevieve Benson seemed to be very much on his mind. And after his body.
“We might have missed out on a dance tonight but driving you home is reward for my patience.” Jack leaned an elbow through his open window and tossed a predatory grin her way. Was he flirting with her? How had she missed that before?
“Reward? I’m sorry but I don’t understand your meaning, Mr. Lyons.”
“Jack, please. I thought you might want to talk to me about the letter I sent you.”
“I haven’t received a letter from you. What’s it about?”
“I did some ferreting around about your family’s previous connection with the Islands and found the property they bought. I included a map showing its position. Would you like me to take you there?”
She frowned and dragged her wayward attention back to Jack. “You mean it’s here, on Oahu?”
Jack grinned and nodded. “Not far from here in fact. It’s been abandoned for a number of years but yes, it exists.”
Maybe Luc had been right all along. His pirate playground fit Jack’s description. “Why did you search for a property we haven’t owned in more than a century?”
“An heiress might want to buy back the land her family owned. Who knows what treasures you might discover along the way? And you might be nice to the man who helped you reconnect with your history.”
Heiress. That wretched newspaper story seemed determined to undermine her efforts at creating a new life for Seb and her. Did everyone think they had money to burn? She bit back a sarcastic comment and laughed inwardly at the irony. Heiresses didn’t dirty their nails working on their plantations.
But heiresses do get targeted by people out to skim money from them. And if there were others besides Jack who thought she had hidden money or an emerald necklace, like that stupid article had implied, she and Seb might be in danger.
She looked across at Jack. Several times he’d referred to her as the heiress. Was it possible he really believed that story? She rubbed the emerald between finger and thumb. If it came from the original necklace, maybe it carried a curse. For certain it hadn’t brought her any joy.
He reached for a packet of cigarettes on the dashboard and tapped one out, offering the pack to her. “Want one?”
She shook her head. “No, thanks.”
Jack tucked the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and raised a fancy silver lighter to the tip. A tiny flame illuminated his features, creating odd shadows as he drew in a lungful of smoke. With a flick, he closed the lighter but a ghost-light continued to dance in her vision. Was she seeing enemies where none existed or did Jack hunger for the untold wealth of the emerald necklace as well?
###
Luc was close to Eva’s plantation when a car turned out of her driveway onto the main road and headed towards him. Even at night, Jack’s sedan was distinctive with its colourful paint job. He grinned in the darkness. Jack would be pissed off at not being invited to stay for coffee.
He pulled over and waited for Jack to do the same. “Is Eva okay?”
“I wouldn’t say okay. Said she’s got a headache or whatever women have when they don’t want us around. You’re not welcome. What did you do, aside from disappear on her?”
“Long story. Later.” He waved a half-salute at his friend and drove the few hundred yards to her house.
Lights showed through the bay window of her office and the fan light above the front door. He mounted the stairs, knocked and waited. A curtain twitched in the reception room and a band of light flicked across his face then the light was switched off.
He waited.
A floorboard creaked on the other side of the door followed by a soft sniffle and a hiccough. He put his ear to the wood and listened. What in God’s name was going on? Worry kicked up another notch and his chest tightened. Had she discovered she was pregnant? How long did it take to know for sure?
“Eva? I know you’re there. Open the door and talk to me.” The door remained closed.
He pounded with his fist on the panel. “Eva, so help me I’ll break down this goddamn door if you won’t talk to me. What’s wrong?”
“Go away. We’ve nothing to say to one another.” Tremulous, her voice on the other side of the wood sounded so un-Eva-like it scared him. Was she crying? What had happened to the passionate woman who made every day worth living for the chance of seeing her? He was losing her. After their day and night at the lagoon, he couldn’t lose her because she’d become too important to him, because he wanted to have that chance with her—because—because—
Crap, Heck recognized it before he had.
He loved Eva.
Stunned by the realization, he rested his forehead against the door. Heart thumping as though it would explode, he dragged air into his lungs. Love? Not possible. Love made people vulnerable, opened them up to hurt. Like his father.
Seconds ticked past as Luc’s memories of his father blurred, shifted and refocused with startling clarity.
Like his father who was now blissfully happy with Jayne.
He pushed upright and stared at the wooden door. On the other side was Eva, who didn’t want to see him or talk to him. Whose biggest fears revolved around protecting her nephew’s inheritance and the possibility of social ostracism as an unwed mother if he couldn’t convince her to marry him.
Failure was not an option. He would be like his father, strong enough to try again.
“Eva? Listen to me. I don’t care about the contract, or buying this place. All I want is to marry you.”
A sob, quickly muffled, reached him and a sliding sound. He pressed his palms and ear to the door. Eva was there, upset, maybe ill. Because of him. Because she was carrying his child? Now was not the time for declarations of love and promises of forever.
He moved swiftly around the side of the house. A curtain fluttered in the gentle breeze at one of the library windows. He opened it wider, gripped the sides, and pulled himself inside. The room was in darkness, bar a sliver of light through the almost closed doorway. He felt his way across the floor, swearing when he cracked his shin on the corner of a piece of furniture. He reached the door and stepped into the hallway. A sigh of relief was immediately replaced by a lump of cold, hard dread sinking like lead in the pit of his stomach.
Eva slumped in a froth of white and silver at the front door. Head on her knees and arms wrapped around her legs, she had never looked more vulnerable. Had he brought her to this? Bile rose in his throat, even as he kneeled beside her. He wanted to fold her into his arms and never let her go but his wants were not what mattered now. He had to make things right for her, even if it meant convincing her to take his name and never touching her again. Whatever she wanted, even that he would do for her. Just let her be okay.
“Eva?”
She stiffened at the sound of his voice but didn’t look at him. “Go away.”
“Not until I know you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“I hate to disagree but obviously, you’re not. Why did you run away from the dance?”
“I had a headache.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? I would have driven you home.”
“I might have but three’s a crowd and I do hate a crush.” Bracing herself against the door she rose unsteadily to her feet and smoothed her skirt with a hand that trembled a little.
“I don’t understand. What threesome do you mean?”
“Don’t you think it excessive to have sex with one woman and ask her to marry you when you’ve already got a—mistress shall we call her—on the side?”
“Mistress?”
“The woman attached to your chest at the bar.”
Genevieve.
With a bottle or more of champagne under her belt, she’d staggered into his arms and clung. Three sheets to the wind, her partner had laughed and dropped into a nearby chair while Luc tried to detach her from his neck.
“That was Genevieve Benson.”
Eva’s lips parted and her eyes widened. “Gen—the woman you were going to marry? Well, isn’t that cosy? But I don’t share, Luc.”
“Good to know because I don’t share either. Don’t ever ask Jack Lyons or any other man apart from Seb to drive you home again.”
She grabbed the door handle in a white-knuckled grip. Like a magnificent flaming-haired goddess, she drew herself up to her full height and glared at him. “Don’t expect me to put up with your floozy flaunting herself all—”
“You’re jealous. My God, there’s hope for us yet if a drunk woman falling into my arms makes you green-eyed.”
“I’m not jealous. I’d have to care about you for that to happen but I will not be made a fool of. You wanted this marriage—”
“I get it. But asking Jack to drive you home only fuels suspicion and gossip. Do you really want that?”
“Don’t be absurd. Of course not. But if you want us to marry, I need to know I can trust you on something as basic as fidelity. No more Genevieves, drunk or otherwise.”
God, he knew all about abused trust. So how could he expect Eva to trust him when he’d shown her she couldn’t? Somehow he had to earn her trust.
“Agreed, and no more Jacks. It works both ways.” He took a deep breath and brushed his fingers down her cheek. “I never meant to hurt you. Marry me and put the rumor and innuendo to rest. It’s a small world on the island and people have long memories.”
He stood, holding his breath. A chance, that’s all he asked.
Would she give him one more chance?
Chapter Sixteen
Gritty-eyed from lack of sleep and overdosed on emotional turmoil, Eva stood under the shower. Overhearing the planters’ conversation last night had been a rude awakening. As had seeing the Benson woman draped around Luc like a vine. Jealousy surged again. Until that moment she’d deluded herself that perhaps she and Luc could make a go of it. Sexual compatibility wasn’t common, if the whispers she’d heard were true. At least in that area they were on the same page. But what about out of bed? What if there was no trust? Or love?
That embrace at the bar had shaken her trust in Luc’s offer. It had been an accident, she understood that now but it had exposed her deepest fear. Did she trust Luc? Deep down, she still couldn’t reconcile the idea he wanted her more than her plantation. Was she giving more weight to Jack’s description of Luc than to Luc’s actions? There were times, many if she was honest, when Luc had been kind and generous. And sexy. She thumped the shower screen and turned off the water.
Preoccupied with her anxiety, she hadn’t looked for Jack’s letter nor thought to look in on Seb. He’d probably already left for work. She brushed her teeth, her hair, and swallowed a couple of headache tablets. Defiantly, she tugged her hair back into a high pony tail, pulled on shorts and a blouse and headed down the hallway.
Several letters lay on the silver salver on the hall table. She flicked through them but Jack’s letter wasn’t among them. Perhaps it would arrive in today’s delivery. Carrying the rest of the mail, Eva pushed open the office door and froze. Papers lay strewn across the floor as though a tornado had hit. Drawers lay in tumbled chaos. She stepped gingerly through the mess to the desk, trying not to move anything. Had the burglar found what she feared he was looking for?
Only Seb and she knew the desk had secret compartments. If it was gone— Hands shaking, she depressed a piece of ornate carving and the secret drawer sprang open.
Empty. Oh, God, where was Seb? What if he’d been here and tried to stop the intruder?
“Seb!” She raced into his bedroom and her heart sank. The bed was made and the room tidy, just as she’d left it the morning before. Yesterday’s work clothes were missing from his clothes hamper. Had he even made it home from work?
She searched his bedside table and dresser, looking for a note, a clue, anything to tell her he was safe. If he hadn’t made it home, then what?
Maybe he’d spent the night with the boys. If they played poker he might have slept in the bunkhouse, knowing she would be late in from the ball. First she needed to phone Luc and find out if Seb was there. Then—but what if he wasn’t at Luc’s? What if something had happened to him?
She pushed away from the desk and ran out of the house. Yesterday, Stefan had mentioned maintenance issues he needed to work on. She prayed he was still working in the shed and not out in the fields. But when she flung open the door to the machinery shed, it was empty. No Stefan, no motorbike, and her car was missing. She frowned, trying to remember if Stefan had asked to borrow it, or if she’d heard the engine this morning.
Shaking her head, she dashed back to the office and phoned Luc’s place.
Samuel answered. “Haven’t seen Seb since he left here early evening to go home. Everything okay, Miss Abbott?”
Her heart sank along with her hopes that he was safely at work. “Not really. Please have him call me if he turns up. Thanks, Samuel.”
She dropped her head onto her hands. What had she brought Seb into? If th
ey had stayed in England, he would have been safe. “Why didn’t Luc come to the phone, Samuel?”
“He’s outside checking for footprints. We had a break-in last night and someone went through his office.”
“You had a break in, too?” What the heck was going on? And why did the news make her feel better?
“We called the police but they expect to be a while. You want I should send them over to you to talk about Seb, Miss?”
“Yes, please, thanks.” She hung up. There was so much more going on than she could have imagined. Why had Luc been targeted? Because somebody thought they were a couple? That she had told him about—what? The diary, the necklace? Methodically, she searched the shelves in the library. Deep within, she knew it was pointless. Both Seb and the diary were gone.
Nerves fragile and brain reeling, she went to the library and poured a finger of brandy. She swallowed a mouthful and coughed, her eyes watering and her throat burning. Unsure what to do next, she carried the glass out to the verandah and leaned against a post.
“Bit early in the day to hit the bottle, isn’t it?” Luc climbed the side steps, stopped in front of her and shoved his hands in his pockets. Stubble shadowed his jaw, as dark as his eyes.
“Samuel said Seb is missing. I’m here to help you find him.” His gaze held hers and she had the impression he could see deep inside her soul. He knew her, inside and out, every damaged part of her and he still wanted her.
She nodded. “Thank you. And—can we talk about—us—after we work out where Seb is?”
###
Luc shrugged but a flash of something like hope sparked through him. Wanting to talk about them felt like a step forward from cautious Eva. He looked at the flat plane of her stomach. “Do you want to sit down? Is your headache gone? How are you this morning?”
She gave him an odd look and he realized he was intruding in her personal space again.
He needed to keep a lid on it, at least until they had worked out where Seb was. Huge green eyes looked up at him. Primal man lurked just below his civilized veneer, ready to throw her over his shoulder and take her home and keep her safe. Acting like a cave man held a certain attraction, and not only if her life was at risk.
Winning the Heiress' Heart Page 15
