by Lori Wilde
A rush of heat spread through his groin.
Dammit. This had to stop. He had to find a way to turn off his desires. Otherwise he didn’t know how long he could stay honorable.
And Adam Mancuso was nothing if not an honorable man.
2
WHENEVER EVA ST. GEORGE got the blues she pulled the drapes, put Enya on the iPod, lit aromatherapy candles, shimmied out of her clothes and let yoga whisk her away.
And today, she was bluer than blue.
It was her twenty-ninth birthday and no one had remembered, but honestly, the funk had really started three weeks ago when her boyfriend, Keith Barksdale, had ditched her.
She didn’t know why she was letting Keith get to her. Their relationship hadn’t been serious. Most likely it was because he’d dumped her before she had a chance to dump him. It was the first time Eva had ever been on the receiving end of a breakup.
The whole thing had gone down really weirdly. Keith had shown up at her yoga studio one morning and given her a beautiful platinum locket clearly worth a lot of money. “I’ve been thinking of you,” he’d said, “and wanted to get you something really nice.”
She’d been touched. It was the first time in two months of dating that he’d bought her a gift. Then he’d disappeared for a couple of days and when he returned, he told her that he was breaking things off, that he’d realized they weren’t a good match and he wanted the locket back. She’d agreed to return it, but at that moment a black SUV had pulled up in the parking lot. Three men in dark suits and sunglasses had gotten out.
Keith had taken one look at them through the big picture window of her studio, paled considerably and run out the back door. The men had come in, flashed badges and identified themselves as NCIS and asked her to answer a few questions about Keith.
She’d had nothing to hide, so she’d agreed to an interview and told the truth. She had no idea where Keith had gone when he left the yoga studio and she didn’t expect to ever hear from him again. It had been disconcerting, however, to learn he’d been involved in some kind of illegal activities. They wouldn’t give her details of course, but just knowing Keith was capable of such things put her judgment in question.
What was it about her that attracted irresponsible—and sometimes even somewhat shifty—guys? Eva pondered this while she brushed her teeth and stared solemnly into the mirror.
She took stock of herself. She wasn’t bad looking, but not gorgeous by any means, although she did keep her body in shape. Her thighs were on the bulky side. Her hair grew too low on her forehead so she had no choice but to wear bangs. She had a small gap between her teeth she could whistle through and a sprinkling of freckles over the bridge of her nose from being dumb about sunscreen when she was a teen.
Sighing, she dipped her head to rinse and caught a glimpse of the tattoo on her shoulder. She’d gotten it during a girls’ night out several years ago and while she didn’t regret it, she wondered if the tattoo had somehow branded her as a woman who was up for anything. If she were being honest, she’d have to admit that she did like to have a good time. Life was short, right? Why waste your youth? Was that why she drew bad boys to her?
But now, with thirty looming in her not too distant future, Eva had to ask herself if it was time to give up her footloose ways. The only thing in her life that kept her anchored was her yoga studio. Until now, it had been enough, but without any warning she felt empty and aimless.
Tonight, however, the yoga hadn’t helped. The endorphin rush she usually experienced had eluded her. Instead, she felt drained, numb, weary to the bone and strangely detached. As if she was standing in a long corridor filled with closed doors, unable to make a choice about which one to open and walk through.
Just waiting…waiting… For what, she did not know.
You’re just feeling sorry for yourself because no one remembered your birthday. Shake it off.
She finished up in the bathroom, slipped into pajamas and got into bed. “Happy birthday, Eva,” she murmured, and turned off the lamp.
It wasn’t the worst birthday she’d ever had. After all, she’d treated herself to her favorite Thai takeout. The honor of worst birthday was reserved for her seventh when she and her mom had been living out of their van in Tucson and her mother had stuck a candle in a stale Twinkie and called it a birthday cake.
Eva had started to cry because she’d really wanted a strawberry ice cream cake and she’d accidentally knocked the Twinkie—complete with the lit candle in the shape of the number 7—onto the floor of the van and the icky old carpet had burst into flames.
Angie had dragged her into the convenience store where she’d bought the Twinkie and the candle, yelling that her house was on fire. Eva remembered being so embarrassed by that. A van was not a house.
The fire department arrived with sirens blaring and doused the van. One of the firefighters and Angie had started an affair and he had moved Eva and her mother into a little apartment over a sandwich shop. The shopkeeper gave them the leftover sandwiches at the end of the night. Fried baloney with mayonnaise had been her favorite.
Everything was going good for a change. Then the firefighter’s wife had shown up a few weeks later, brandishing a gun and threatening to shoot Angie, until she saw Eva cowering behind her mother and put the weapon away.
Ah, good times.
The truly sad thing was that the firefighter had been one of Angie’s better hook-ups.
No sooner had Eva slipped underneath the covers than her phone rang. She propped up on one elbow and peered at the caller ID in the darkness.
It was her half sister Sienna.
Someone had remembered her birthday after all. Smiling, she snagged the cordless phone from its dock and sat up against the headboard. “Hello?”
“Eva! Guess what?” Sienna exclaimed.
The hollow feeling returned to the pit of her stomach. Sienna wasn’t calling to wish her a happy birthday. “It must be something big, you sound really excited.”
“Ryan popped the question. We’re getting married!”
Stunned, Eva couldn’t speak.
“Sis? You still there?” Sienna asked breathlessly.
“Um…” She didn’t know what to say. Sienna was only twenty and in her junior year of nursing school. “I’m here.”
“You don’t sound excited for me.”
“I…I didn’t realize you and Ryan were that serious,” she said, when what she wanted to say was, “Bunny rabbits and kittens, Sienna, you’re only twenty, you have the rest of your life to get married.”
“He’s my soul mate.” Sienna sighed dreamily.
“Ryan is the only guy you’ve ever dated.”
“Doesn’t matter. When it’s right it’s right. And it’s kind of nice that neither of us has ever been with anyone else. It makes our relationship special.”
Yeah, like people who weren’t virgins when they hooked up could never have anything special. Eva bit her tongue. “Besides, we have been dating for four years.”
“I’m glad you’re happy,” Eva said truthfully. It was about the only positive thing she could think to say. Good thing Sienna wasn’t here. Eva would grab her by the shoulders, look her straight in the eyes and yell, “Are you freakin’ kidding me?”
“Ryan is the greatest guy in the world.” For the next ten minutes, she rhapsodized about her fiancé’s stellar qualities. According to Sienna, Gandhi paled in comparison.
Bitter much? The voice at the back of Eva’s mind needled.
“Tell me you’re going to finish nursing school first,” Eva said.
“Oh, yes, absolutely. The wedding is scheduled for next June right after graduation.”
“What does Angie think?”
“Oh, you know Mom, she’s cool about everything.
It’s Dad who’s a tiny bit upset that I’m getting married so young.”
Of course Angie was cool with it. Eva swallowed. She was acutely aware of how different her childhood had been from her younger
sisters’. When Eva was growing up her mother had insisted she call her by her first name so men wouldn’t think she was old enough to have a daughter Eva’s age. Sienna and their younger sister, Brenna, got to call her Mom like normal people.
Until Angie had married Sienna’s dad, Mike Shoemaker, Eva’s life had been chaotic. They’d never lived in one place for long as her mother traipsed from town to town, guy to guy, trying to “find” herself. And while Eva was grateful that Angie had finally latched on to a decent guy like Mike, she and her stepfather had never really bonded.
It was clear enough that he considered Eva Angie’s daughter, while Sienna and Brenna were his. He had honestly tried to connect with her, but they’d just never found common ground beyond Angie. If Eva were being honest, she’d admit most of it was her fault. She’d just kept waiting for Mike to take off on them like the others had and by the time she realized that he wasn’t going anywhere she’d been all grown-up.
The hollowness in her stomach deepened, but Eva shrugged it off. She wasn’t the type to wallow in the past, wishing that circumstances had been different. She was pretty good at making the best of things, but along with that hollowness was just a tinge of jealousy. It wasn’t fair that Sienna who was nine years younger had already found her soul mate.
Come on, you don’t even believe in that soul mate malarkey.
“So,” Sienna said, “I’m hoping you’ll be my maid of honor.”
“Of course,” Eva agreed.
In spite of the stiff relationship she had with her stepfather, she loved her younger sisters with a fierceness that surprised her. She couldn’t be jealous of Sienna’s happiness even though part of her wished she, too, could know what it was like to fall head over heels in love with a guy worth giving up her freedom for.
Since when? She’d never even really thought about marriage—which might explain why she kept hooking up with guys like Keith.
But now, she was twenty-nine. Twenty-nine with no birthday cake, no presents, no card, not even a damned phone call.
This is what happens when you’re footloose and fancy-free.
“Eva,” Sienna said, “I’m so, so happy. I want you to be this happy some day. How are things with Keith?”
“We broke up.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. And here I was going on about how wonderful my life is.”
“No need to be sorry, it’s no big deal. Keith certainly wasn’t my soul mate.”
“Do you think that um…maybe…” Sienna paused.
“What?”
“Well, that maybe the reason you can’t find a keeper is because you rush into relationships? I mean Keith is like what? Your fifth boyfriend in two years?”
Guilty as charged. She did tend to rush into physical intimacy. A flush of embarrassment, combined with irritation, burned her neck.
“Sixth,” she admitted.
“I didn’t mean to make you mad. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, no, feel free to speak your mind.”
“It’s just that I want to see you as happy as Ryan and I are, Eva. So next time you meet Mr. Maybe why not take things a little slower?”
Yeah, I’ll get right on that. “Uh-huh.”
“Don’t worry. You’re going to find someone,” Sienna said in a perky, cheerleader voice. “Love will get you when you least expect it.”
Twenty years old and she was talking as if she knew everything. Eva pressed three fingers against her brow and massaged away her irritation. “I’m really happy for you. And don’t worry about me. Now go celebrate.”
“Thanks.” Sienna paused. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too,” Eva said.
“Bye.”
“Good night.” She hung up and stared into the darkness, waiting, feeling as if she was caught in suspended animation. It scared her. This weird sensation of not belonging anywhere, never fitting in.
“To hell with self-pity,” she muttered, threw back the covers, stripped off her pajamas and headed back to the living room. She wasn’t going to let getting dumped and turning twenty-nine and playing maid of honor to her kid sister get her down.
Three minutes later, the candles were lit, Enya was crooning lyrically from the iPod and Eva was deep into Triangle Pose while the soft ocean breeze ruffled the curtains in front of the open window.
And as she exercised, all her embarrassment and irritation vanished and in its place she felt a strange sense of peace, as if someone out there was watching over her.
3
EVA LOVED SUMMER IN SOUTHERN California. Warm but breezy. Not too hot, not too cold. Blue skies, bright sun. Not many clouds to speak of. On rare occasions you might get a thunderstorm, but it usually happened only once or twice a year.
Two days after her conversation with Sienna, Eva lay listening to the soothing music whispering through the ear buds of her iPod as she floated on the inflatable raft in the apartment complex pool. The air smelled of chlorine and hibiscus blossoms. Colorful umbrellas spread out over poolside patio tables. They were all empty. Everyone was at work.
She smiled. God, she loved her job that allowed her to be home when most people were working. Monday through Friday she gave classes in the early mornings and then again in the evenings, but the middle of the day belonged to her. Saturday was her busiest day, when she ran back-to-back classes from 6:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. Of course, since she owned the studio, she popped in from time to time to make sure everything was running smoothly, but she hired good people. There weren’t many problems.
For all her mother’s traipsing from town to town, state to state, Eva had learned one thing. She was a water baby, through and through. Being around water made her happy. It didn’t matter if it was ocean or lake, river or pond, or even just a swimming pool, whenever she was near water, she felt balanced.
Her best friend Zoey told her it was because she had Aquarius rising in her horoscope. Eva didn’t even know what that meant, but she did know that surf, sun and sand made her feel extraordinarily alive and she loved living in San Diego.
She closed her eyes behind her shades, felt the wind skim the fine hairs around her navel. Ah, peace and quiet.
Then an odd prickling sensation tugged at her stomach. Someone was watching her. She could feel it.
Eva opened her eyes.
A man stood poolside staring down at her, a white trash bag in his hand. He was well over six feet tall with broad, ruler-straight shoulders and solid biceps bulging at the seams of his navy blue T-shirt. He wore white shorts that hit just above tanned knees, and running shoes. He looked both comfortable in his own skin and utterly in charge of the space around him.
For a second or two, she thought that he was a mirage, conjured up by her sun-softened brain. Then she realized that nope, this hunk was the real deal.
She was suddenly aware of how she must look to him, lounging on the float in her bright red bikini, her blond hair tumbling about her shoulders, her body slick with perspiration. She took a deep breath, envisioned pulling her navel to her spine as she taught her students in yoga class, and then tugged the earbuds from her ears, pushed her sunglasses up on her forehead and met his gaze.
“Like what you see?” she drawled impishly.
His steady gaze heated her up like a hot lick. “Sorry,” he said, not looking the least bit apologetic. “I didn’t mean to stare…”
“And yet here you are, still staring.”
Was it her imagination or were the tops of his ears turning red? But he did not look away. Embarrassed and bold. An unexpected combination that gave him a charming vulnerability.
“I just moved in and I was wondering where the Dumpster was located.” His deep voice seemed to blow the words across her skin like a child’s breath at a dandelion bloom.
Why did she have a feeling that taking out the trash was simply a ruse to come down and say hello to her? She felt flattered, but immediately squelched the emotion. No more jumping willy-nilly into superficial relationships wi
th good-looking men. She was twenty-nine now. She had to start thinking about the future.
She cleared her throat. His intelligent dark brown eyes swung back up to sharpen on her face. He came across as calculated, measured, self-assured. His equanimity both unnerved her and piqued her curiosity.
“The Dumpster is that way.” She pointed toward the back of the complex. “Just beyond the laundry room.”
“Thanks,” he said, but he didn’t move. He just kept standing there.
Eva felt self-conscious and wished her cover-up wasn’t spread across a lounge chair on the opposite side of the pool.
He dropped the garbage bag, and she watched it fall because she simply couldn’t continue holding his intense gaze.
Watch it. Remember you’re turning over a new leaf. No more skimming the surface when it comes to relationships. From now on, it’s either all or nothing.
“Name’s Adam,” he said, “Adam Mancuso.”
Then with his hand outstretched, he moved toward the edge of the pool, the material of his shorts molding against his muscular thighs.
He leaned down. She reached up.
Their hands touched.
Sizzle.
There was no other word to describe the slam dunk of his forceful sexuality ramming into hers. She’d had many boyfriends in her life. Shaken hands with many a good-looking man, too, but she’d never felt anything quite like this jolt of instant attraction.
Involuntarily, she licked her lips. “Eva. Eva St. George.”
His hand lingered on hers. His gaze pinned her to him like a corsage to a lapel, but he said nothing.
“So, Adam,” she said desperate to fill the silence before she said something totally inappropriate like my place or yours? “What brings you to San Diego?”
“How do you know I’m not from San Diego?” He dropped her hand and straightened, but didn’t back off.
She shrugged, peered up at him, kept her belly sucked in. “You’ve got that East Coast vibe.”
