by Fiona Brand
“I know what Mario wanted, no one better. What I don’t get is why you’re so intent on enforcing a condition that is patently ridiculous?”
Kyle’s gaze narrowed at the way Eva carefully avoided the issue of his proposal. “You’re family.”
“Distant and only on paper. It’s not as if I’m a real Atraeus.”
Kyle’s brow’s jerked together. “Your name is Atraeus.”
Eva dragged in a breath, relieved that the unnerving sense that Kyle had seen right through her desperate attempt to seem normal and completely impervious to him had dissipated. “That doesn’t change the fact that I’m adopted. I’m not blood.” And that she could still remember what it felt like to wear secondhand clothes, eat cereal for dinner and fend off her mother’s boyfriends. She was a very poor cuckoo in a diamond-encrusted nest.
“Mario wanted to help you. He wanted you to be happy.”
She drew a breath. The clean scent of his skin deepened the panicked awareness that was humming through her. “I’m twenty-eight. I think that by now I know what it takes to be happy.”
“And that would be paying some guy to marry you?”
Eva’s brows jerked together. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but barely fifty years ago, arranged marriages were common in both the Messena and the Atraeus families.”
“Last century, maybe.”
“Then someone should have told that to Mario. And it underlines my point that a marriage of convenience is not the worst thing that could happen.” And it wasn’t as if she actually wanted to be loved. She had seen what had happened to her mother when she had become emotionally needy. Relationship train wreck followed by train wreck, the plunging depression and slow disintegration of Meg Rushton’s life. It had all been crowned by her mother’s inability to care for Eva, the one child who had survived the disorder.
A young man tried to squeeze in beside Eva. Kyle blocked him with a wolf-cold glance and a faint shift in position. In the process, his arm brushed against hers, sending a tingle of heat through her that made Eva even more desperate to get away. With grim concentration, she stared over Kyle’s broad shoulder at the bottles of spirits suspended at the rear of the bar and tried not to love the fact that Kyle’s behavior had been as bluntly possessive as if they had been a couple. That was exactly the kind of thinking she could not afford.
Kyle’s gaze, edged with irritation, captured hers. “Let’s put this in context. If a man is unscrupulous enough to take your money for marriage, chances are he won’t have a problem pressurizing you until you give in to sex.”
Eva’s heart thumped hard in her chest at the thought that Kyle could possibly have a motivation that was tied in with caring about her, that in his own hard-nosed way, he had been trying to protect her. The next thought was a dizzying, improbable leap—that Kyle had a personal interest in stopping her from having sex with other men because he wanted her.
Annoyed that she should even begin to imagine that Kyle’s concern was based on some kind of personal desire for her when she knew he regarded her as a spoiled, shallow good-time girl, she put the revelation in context. Kyle was gorgeous, megawealthy and successful, but the reality was that, like his older brothers and her macho Atraeus cousins, shunt him back a few centuries, give him a sword and buckler and he would fit right in. Just because he was being protective to the point of being intrusive didn’t mean he was attracted to her. It was just part of his DNA. “I know how to handle men. Believe me, sex will not be an issue.”
Kyle’s gaze dropped to her mouth. “Then, honey, you don’t know men very well.”
Her heart pounded a little harder, not at the implication that she was naive about men in general, but at the low, rough timbre of his voice and the sudden revelation that Kyle did find her attractive.
Eva swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat. The fingers of her right hand curled tight against the childish urge to press the heel of her palm against the sharp pounding of her heart.
Someone else jostled her to get to the bar. Kyle said something low and curt, his arm curled around her waist as he pulled her against his side. The move was more courteous and protective than overtly sensual, but even so, another hot pang shot clear to her toes.
He released her almost immediately, but not before his gaze touched on hers, filled with unexpected knowledge. Another shockwave went through her. If she’d thought Kyle hadn’t noticed that she was still crazily attracted to him, she was wrong. He knew.
“Damn, let’s get out of here.”
Taking her hand, he forged a path through the now-busy bar, and out of the blue, memories she’d buried flooded back. Kyle’s fingers linked with hers years ago, the carefree flash of his grin as they’d escaped from the crowded party. The way the earth had stopped spinning and she’d forgotten to breathe when they had run down to the beach and long weeks of swimming and talking together had finally reached a flash point.
Breath suddenly constricted, she pulled her hand free and tried to ignore the heated tingling of the brief contact.
Kyle stopped, coincidentally, right beside the wedding cake. “You might think you can handle marriage to some guy you’ve only just met, but I know for a fact you’ve never even lived with a man.”
The memories winked out with the suddenness of a door slamming. Her temper flared at the evidence that Kyle had been prying into her life. “Just because I haven’t had a long-term relationship—”
“The way I heard it, you haven’t had any real relationships.”
She dragged off the glasses, her eyes flashing fire. “How can you know this stuff?” Although she knew the answer had to be Kyle’s younger sisters, the Messena twins, Sophie and Francesca. Over the years she had become good friends with the twins, so of course they knew exactly how her life had played out. No doubt Kyle had engaged Sophie and Francesca in some kind of casual conversation, gathering intelligence. They would not have realized that telling Kyle she didn’t go in for casual relationships would matter. “I knew it. You’ve been spying on me.”
“Checking up on you. It’s part of the brief.”
And with his military background, Kyle had a certain skill set. When he had gone into the army, she had still been lovesick enough to keep tabs on him. Not satisfied with the rank and file, he had done officer training, then had gone into the Special Air Service, the SAS. When he had been sent on his first overseas assignment, she had lost sleep for weeks, wondering if he had been wounded or even killed. Then she had learned that he had come back from the mission just fine and gotten married on his days off. It was then she had decided she would never worry about him again.
She folded her arms across her chest, glad to have that salutary reminder about just how meaningless that long-ago holiday romance and kiss on the beach had been. “I am not a job.”
“No.” He stared at the monster cake with a faintly incredulous gaze. “You’re a pain in the butt.”
Her chin shot up. “Then why do the job?”
“Believe me, if Mario had chosen someone else, I would have been more than happy.”
“Ditto.”
A muscle jerked fascinatingly along the side of his jaw. Bolstered by the unmistakable sign of tension, Eva delivered the only ultimatum she had. “Then unless you want to keep tabs on me for the next thirteen years as my trustee, maybe you should let me get on with the business of getting married.”
“Troy Kendal will never marry you.”
She should have been shocked by the flat pronouncement, but in a weird way, after the relentless research he had conducted into all of her other grooms, she had half expected him to find out. “You don’t know that.”
The resolute quality of his gaze, as if he would let her marry Troy over his dead body, sent a forbidden little thrill through her. She drew a breath in an effort to still the rapid pounding of her heart. Someth
ing was definitely, seriously wrong with her. She should have been angry, desperate. She shouldn’t like it that Kyle was systematically getting rid of her grooms.
She slid her glasses back onto the bridge of her nose, suddenly needing the camouflage. “This conversation is over. I have a business to run.”
Kyle dragged his gaze from the mesmerizing sight of Eva walking away, gripping her official clipboard. His frown deepened when he noted a familiar figure giving him the kind of narrowed, assessing stare he had gotten used to over the past few months. Kendal was new on the list of men Eva had dated since Mario had died. He also deviated from the pattern of older, biddable admirers Eva had approached in order to find a manageable, paid husband.
Kendal was twenty-four, which made him younger than Eva by four years. He was also a well-known professional rugby player with a list of stormy liaisons behind him. Recently, Kendal had been sidelined by injury and had missed the cut for the new season, which meant his career was stalled. According to the research Kyle had done, he was also currently strapped for cash.
His jaw tightened as Kendal slung his arm around Eva’s waist. He knew exactly where and when Eva had picked Kendal up, because he had conducted the surveillance himself. It was four nights ago at a trendy singles bar in downtown Auckland.
He relaxed marginally as Eva detached Kendal’s arm with the kind of brisk efficiency that spelled out loud and clear that whatever bargain she had struck with Kendal, it was purely business. Which suited Kyle, since Kendal had the kind of reputation with women that sent a cold itch down his spine.
Kyle found a seat in the shadow of a large indoor palm, where he could keep an eye on Eva and Troy. Taking out his phone, he made a call to a contact. His family’s bank poured a lot of money into sponsoring professional rugby. A few minutes later, after pledging a further personal donation from his own funds, contingent on a contract offer to Kendal, he hung up.
A waiter placed a plate of food in front of him. Kyle ate without tasting, intent on Kendal as the man took a call on his cell. Minutes later, Kendal left the wedding with a pretty blonde who had been seated at his table.
Kyle’s phone buzzed. After receiving confirmation that Kendal had verbally accepted a contract offer, he terminated the call and sat back in his chair.
Eva wouldn’t be happy with him. She was smart and would know exactly what he had done, but Kyle couldn’t regret getting rid of Kendal. He was the kind of unsavory guy he wouldn’t trust with any of the women he knew, family or not.
With Kendal now out of the picture, Eva’s last marriage scheme had just collapsed.
The thought filled him with relief. If Eva had picked someone she could love, he would not have intervened. Instead, she had chosen a list of controllable men who really did just want money. Losers who were not immune to the fact that Eva was drop-dead gorgeous and distractingly sexy. Kyle knew exactly how the masculine mind worked. Platonic agreement or not, it would have only been a matter of time before Eva would have found herself maneuvered into bed.
His stomach tightened on a hot punch of emotion.
Over his dead body.
Kendal sliding his arm around Eva’s waist had sealed his decision in stone.
Eva had turned him down, but in the space of an hour the game had changed. She wanted him. Up until now he had been content to keep his distance and let Eva exhaust her options, but now he was no longer prepared to stand back or let any other man enter the picture. She would accept his proposal; it was just a matter of time.
Eva was his.
Four
Eva shoveled a chunk of the gorgeous wedding cake onto a plate and for good measure snagged two of the ridiculously cute frosted cupcakes and a flute of champagne. It was an undisciplined decision and the calories would go straight to her hips, but it had been hours since she had eaten. Besides, since it was supposed to be her wedding, she figured she deserved a little comfort food.
Irritated with the glasses, which were pressing hard enough on the bridge of her nose to give her a headache, she dragged them off and tucked them in her pocket. The music was still pounding in the main reception room, but the bride and groom had departed, so there was no longer any need to look nerdish. Plate in one hand, glass in the other, she scanned the room for Kyle so she could avoid him. Although, since she had acknowledged the crazy, self-destructive fatal attraction that gripped her, she seemed to have developed an ultrasensitive inner radar so that, without looking, she knew exactly where he was.
When she couldn’t find him, instead of being relieved, her stomach plummeted. Taller than most of the guests, he was normally easy to spot.
A wild suspicion formed that maybe he was with Jacinta, whom she had seen chatting to him on a number of occasions. The suspicion was allayed when she glimpsed Jacinta in animated conversation with the best man, who was considerably better looking than the groom.
She strolled down into the tropical gardens, where a few guests were sitting at tables, enjoying the balmy evening. The exotic plantings looked spectacular when lit at night. Kyle was nowhere to be seen, which meant he had probably left. Jaw firming against the impossible notion that the weird, plunging feeling in her stomach was disappointment, she belatedly remembered Troy.
The last time she had seen him he had been sitting with some blonde and drinking too much. Suspicious, because he had a definite reputation when it came to women, especially blonde women, she checked the dance floor. When she didn’t see him there, she made a search of the hotel lobby and loitered near the men’s room while she polished off the wedding cake and sipped a little more champagne. When Troy didn’t appear, she strolled to the pool area.
The patio, which was fringed with palms and drifts of star jasmine that scented the night, was dimly lit and lonely. The enormous pool was empty of bathers, its surface limpid, the lights under the water giving it a jewellike glow. Eva checked the bathing pavilion, which held changing rooms, showers and stacks of fluffy white towels. It, too, was empty. With the way her luck was running lately, she had to consider that either Troy had left with the blonde, or they had gotten a room together.
She should have been disappointed, but the plain fact was she had not liked Troy. Sitting down on a deck chair, she finished off the last of the champagne. Instead of leaving the flute on the pavers, where it could be knocked over and shattered, she decided to store it in her bag until she could drop it back at the bar.
She stared gloomily at the cupcakes. She was halfway through the chocolate one with fudge icing and pretty sugar flowers when a deep, curt voice cut through even that meager pleasure. “If you were looking for Kendal, he left.”
“With the blonde?”
“With the blonde.”
Eva slapped what was left of the cupcake back on the plate and tried to ignore the dizzying relief that while Troy had left, Kyle was still here. It was an odd time to note that while every man she had handpicked and tried to organize into her life—for just a brief time, and for money—had run out on her, the one man she had been desperate to avoid and who didn’t need money, had stayed. “What did you say to him?”
Kyle emerged from the shadows of the palms, where she knew there was a shell path that led to the beach. Her stomach tensed. It was a path she could hardly forget, since it was the one she and Kyle had taken years ago when they had sneaked away to share their one and only passionate interlude. The awareness that was becoming more and more acute hummed through her like an electric current. A little desperately, she picked up the lemon cupcake with white chocolate icing and a delicate sprinkling of raspberry dust, although her appetite was gone.
Kyle dropped his jacket, which he’d slung over one shoulder, over the back of a deck chair and walked around the pool toward her. “I didn’t say a word to Kendal.”
She tried not to be mesmerized by the way the pool lights glanced off the taut lin
es of his cheekbones and jaw, investing his skin with a bronze sheen as if he really was a warrior of old. “You’ve gotten rid of every other man, so why not Troy?”
He undid a couple of buttons and loosened off his tie, unwittingly drawing her gaze to the muscular column of his throat. Swallowing, she looked away from that fascinating triangle of tanned skin and ended up studying a scar that made a small, intriguing crescent on one cheekbone. For the first time she noticed that he had dark circles beneath his eyes, as if he hadn’t been getting enough sleep.
Join the club, she thought, firmly squashing any hint of compassion. Just because an old attraction that should have died years ago had somehow reactivated, that didn’t mean her brain had turned to mush. If Kyle had let her marry any one of the grooms she had chosen, they would both be getting plenty of sleep.
He paused just feet away. “Kendal’s agent made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”
There was a moment of weird disorientation, where ordinary sounds and sensations seemed to blink out, and yet her heart pumped so loudly it was deafening. She looked down and saw the lemon cupcake had turned to mangled chunks between her fingers. Dropping the remains of the cupcake on the plate, she grabbed the napkin that was folded to one side of the plate and wiped icing off her fingers.
Losing her temper wouldn’t get her anywhere with Kyle. As long as she could remember, he had been utterly male, as blunt and immovable as a rock wall. Crazily, that was what had once attracted her so much. When her teenage world had been in pieces, he had seemed strong and disciplined in a quiet, steady way. Special forces had suited him down to the ground. “Money. I should have guessed.”
He strolled to the edge of the pool. “Kendal’s got a reputation. You wouldn’t have been able to handle him.”
