A Very Passionate Man

by Maggie Cox

  ‘I’m sorry I’m a little late,’ She made a show of glancing at her watch, feeling herself redden like a schoolgirl. ‘I was trying to find something to wear that wasn’t covered in wood dust!’

  ‘You look just fine to me,’ Evan drawled. Still he didn’t move.

  Rowan fanned herself. ‘It’s very warm in here, isn’t it? Can I do anything? Something smells nice.’

  Too late, she took a step towards the cooker, then found herself trapped by the unwavering directness of his stare.

  ‘I’ve got it all under control,’ he said quietly, voice low.

  ‘You have?’ Rowan stared, then reluctantly dragged her gaze away to look anywhere but straight at him. The man was tying her up in knots with his examination. What was he trying to do to her?

  ‘How about a glass of wine?’

  ‘Thanks. Yes.’

  Relieved, she gulped down a deep breath, letting it out slowly as Evan turned back to the counter. Free at last from his disturbing gaze, she allowed herself a quick study of the warm, homely kitchen, with its neat pine units and framed watercolours of children playing on a beach all round the walls. The large refrigerator was covered in childish fridge magnets—Tom and Jerry, and characters from the The Simpsons. There were a couple of drawings—a robot and a spaceship—lovingly signed for ‘Uncle Evan’. Rowan deduced they must be the output of the two nephews he’d mentioned. Were they close to their brooding, taciturn uncle? The thought intrigued her. Was it possible for anyone to get close to this man?

  ‘What are you thinking?’ he asked as he turned round and placed a glass of chilled white wine into her hands.

  ‘I was just admiring your nephews’ drawings. Do you get to see much of them?’

  ‘Not really.’ Evan admitted it with a pang. He’d always been too busy working. Now and then he’d show up at birthdays or Christmas with a couple of expensive gifts that his secretary had purchased on his behalf, but other than that he was conspicuous in their lives by his absence. He took a sip of wine and shrugged. It was just as well that Beth didn’t hold it against him, but it pained him to realise he probably didn’t deserve her to be so magnanimous.

  ‘They’re great kids but I don’t get to see them as much as I’d like.’

  ‘It’s never too late,’ Rowan commented, her smile sunny.

  Heat attacked Evan from all sides. That damn smile of hers was dangerous…didn’t she have the sense to bestow it more wisely? ‘Yeah, you’re probably right. Want to sit down and eat?’

  Savouring her wine, feeling its initial chill turn to warmth in her belly, Rowan picked up her cutlery and twirled some noodles around her fork. ‘This smells good. You obviously enjoy cooking.’

  ‘Good food is important. It gives you vitality and energy.’ Two things he’d had in short supply lately, Evan reflected as he considered his plate. It wasn’t the answer Rowan had somehow expected. Clearly good nutrition meant a lot to him. No wonder he looked in such good shape: he obviously took great care of himself.

  ‘That’s true, but when you’re too busy working it’s not always easy to organise the best food. It becomes all too easy to pop something instant into the microwave…though I never did that too often myself. I mainly had to do it for Greg when he came home unexpectedly—sometimes in the middle of the small hours.’

  ‘So…what did you do when your husband was away?’

  ‘I was working a lot myself.’ She tasted some food, chewed it, then swallowed before glancing directly up at Evan. He was watching her with that slow, probing gaze of his that made her skin far too sensitive, and suddenly the room seemed terrifyingly smaller. ‘By the time I’d got home in the evening, got myself something to eat then sorted out my clothes for the morning, I was too tired to contemplate doing much else…though I did do an aerobics class once a week. Nearly killed me too.’ She grinned and her brown eyes went soft with merriment.

  Once again, heat stirred low in Evan’s stomach, making him ache for her in a way that would surely make her pretty cheeks pinker than they were already if she even had a hint of how he was feeling.

  Irritated that he wasn’t as in control of his emotions as he’d like, he pushed away from the table abruptly and moved across to the counter to make coffee. ‘I suppose once a week is better than nothing, but it’s not a good idea to throw yourself into doing something as energetic as aerobics if you’re not taking any other form of exercise. You can easily injure yourself if your muscles aren’t properly warmed up. What do you do for a living?’

  Staring at his back, helplessly contemplating his arresting physique in blue denims and a black shirt, Rowan patted her lips with her paper napkin and strove to get her galloping pulse under control. ‘I was a production assistant in an independent television company.’

  ‘Was?’

  He paused from spooning coffee grounds into the cafetière and turned round to look at her. Her slender shoulders rose and fell with a little shrug of what appeared to be dejection. ‘I gave it up to come and live here.’

  ‘So how are you going to support yourself?’

  Rowan flinched at his bluntness. No skirting round the issue for politeness’ sake, obviously. ‘I’ll be fine for a year or so. I want to—I need to take some time to think about what I want to do next.’

  Evan said nothing, then turned back to make the coffee. Did he think she was wrong to take time out? Perhaps he thought she was running away. Worse still, lazy.

  ‘So, if aerobics isn’t a good idea, any suggestions what I can do to get fit?’

  Her comment provoked a surprising grin. ‘Stick to your gardening and DIY, is my suggestion. A few regular walks on the beach wouldn’t go amiss either. What do you want to get fit for, Rowan?’

  Putting down her fork, she folded her napkin carefully beside it. ‘Sometimes I feel like I’ve been hit by a ten-ton truck, you know? I wake up in the morning and feel like I just want to stay in bed. That scares me. If I were fitter I’d have more energy and could apply myself better…that’s all.’

  Her first couple of comments could easily have applied to him, Evan thought grimly. But he knew, with Rowan, her fatigue was due to grief. A stab of remorse tightened his chest.

  ‘If you want me to help you get fitter, I will.’ Bringing the coffee-pot to the table, along with two dark blue ceramic mugs, Evan sat down opposite her. He saw the surprise in her face. Then her delectable mouth curved into a sweet smile that made him want her again in the most inappropriate way.

  ‘You will?’

  ‘It’s what I do for a living,’ he explained. ‘Helping people to get fit is my business.’

  ‘It is?’

  Irritation flashed in his suddenly cool green eyes. ‘Don’t you believe me?’ Could she tell? he wondered. Did she know he was all washed up? A fitness instructor who could no longer take a simple walk on the beach without breaking into a sweat, let alone attempt anything more strenuous. His hand curved around the handle of his fork and squeezed tight.

  Rowan saw his knuckles turn briefly white and couldn’t fathom what she’d said to offend him. ‘Of course I believe you; why wouldn’t I? I only need to look at your body and I—and I…’ She went the colour of a ripe tomato.

  Evan relaxed his death grip on the fork and let it go. Amusement replacing irritation, he leant back in his chair to study her. ‘You look at my body and…tell me, Rowan.’

  ‘Well.’ She picked up her napkin and refolded it. ‘What I meant to say was, you look as though you take care of yourself.’

  ‘And what about you?’ he coaxed softly.

  ‘What about me?’

  ‘Do you take care of your body too?’

  ‘I know I’m a little out of shape right now.’ Embarrassed, she glanced away from him, her soft brown hair falling across her cheek as she bent her head.

  She was so wrong. He remembered the red sweater and jeans she’d had on that day. It had revealed a shape more than a little pleasing to the eye. Evan had taken one look at her and fel
t as horny as hell.

  ‘How can I tell when you insist on hiding yourself beneath those long, baggy dresses of yours?’

  ‘They’re not baggy!’ Stung, she faced him with a furious glare. ‘They’re…tasteful. I don’t think a woman should reveal everything about herself, do you? I think she should retain a little—a little mystery.’

  Personally, Evan agreed. It made the conquest all the sweeter. Only he’d never met a woman yet who had felt the same. Rebecca had had an amazing body and her tight, figure-hugging clothes had made no pretence at concealing it. He couldn’t deny that he hadn’t minded being the envy of every other man in the room when he walked in with her. But now the very thought of her left him cold. The pretty young woman sitting opposite him, with her shy smile and her demure dress, was a million miles away from someone like his ex-wife, and Evan found he was intensely comforted by the thought. Comforted, yet still turned on by the idea of peeling away the protective layers of clothing to reveal the lovely woman underneath, because he knew instinctively that was just what she would be…

  ‘You were never tempted to stray when your husband was away?’ he found himself asking her.

  ‘Of course not!’

  Allowing her gaze to linger on that hard, slightly arrogant mouth of his, Rowan felt heat throb through her body. Where was he heading with such a question? Was he suggesting that she was a woman who missed the intimacy of a man sharing her bed so much that she would do anything to satisfy needs that weren’t being met? Did he think that she expected him to—wanted him to…? Impatient with herself, she glanced hopefully towards the coffee-pot. No more wine, Rowan. A couple of sips and you’re getting the kind of ideas that won’t do you a bit of good in the long run. Clearly Evan Cameron was just playing with her. Stringing her along for his own perverse amusement. He wasn’t a bit attracted to her, she decided. A man who had the kind of outstanding good looks that he possessed, and was a fitness instructor to boot, wouldn’t waste his time on someone as plain and ordinary as her. Someone who hid their body rather than revealed it, who talked about retaining mystery in the twenty-first century when revealing less was definitely not more.

  ‘I didn’t mean to offend you.’

  ‘You haven’t. Do you mind if I have some coffee now?’

  ‘You’re not going to finish your meal?’

  ‘I’m suddenly…not very hungry. Do you mind?’ Her brown eyes round with apology, she flushed. Shaking his head, Evan gave a rueful grin. ‘I guess I’ll have to live with the fact you don’t like my cooking.’

  When she bit her lip and flushed again, he chuckled. Clearly even the thought of offending anyone was pure torture to her. ‘Only kidding. Let’s take the coffee through to the living-room, shall we?’

  Settled in a big leather armchair, her cup of coffee cradled in her hands, Rowan glanced towards the crackling fire in the old-fashioned hearth and willed herself to relax. Resigned to the fact that she obviously wasn’t Evan’s type, she told herself they might still be friends. If only the man would open up to her a little more. If only he could learn to trust her. She would never betray a friend’s confidence—if she could just convince him of that, they might get somewhere.

  ‘So when can you start helping me to get fit?’ she asked as he strode past her with his coffee. Settling himself on an ottoman by the hearth, his green eyes reflecting little sparks of flame from the fire, Evan took a few moments to answer her. Was he regretting offering his services? Rowan worried. He was probably thinking now he’d never get rid of her! The last thing in the world she wanted to be was a nuisance.

  ‘Tomorrow morning. Be ready by six and we’ll go for a power walk on the beach—maybe do a little gentle stretching first to get warmed up.’

  ‘At six o’clock in the morning? Are you serious?’

  ‘Perhaps I ought to be asking you that question?’

  ‘All right.’ Feeling as if she’d definitely bitten off more than she could chew, Rowan flashed him a weak smile. ‘But don’t expect miracles. I told you I’m actually not in very good shape.’

  ‘We’ll see.’ His expression implacable, Evan shrugged as he raised his cup of coffee thoughtfully to his lips.

  His knock on her door the following morning found Rowan still struggling to undo a knot in the lace of one of her little-used trainers. Standing back to allow him entry, she glimpsed the dawn breaking behind him and helplessly shivered. What was she doing, for goodness’ sake? She’d come to the cottage to retreat from the rat race, not to rise at some ungodly hour to ‘power walk’ on the beach with a man who looked as if he could give an Olympic sprinter a run for his money!

  ‘Ready?’

  By the determined set of that hard jaw of his, Evan meant business. Attired in black sweats and a navy-blue fleece, the man emanated energy and electricity in equally potent doses. A small surge of trepidation shot through her. She really did believe that getting a little fitter would help her, not just physically but mentally too—but, glancing at Evan, she was definitely having second thoughts. The man looked simply awesome.

  ‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’

  ‘Good. Then we’ll get started.’

  Instead of heading out through the door, he led the way back into Rowan’s still emptied living-room. Standing on the newly sanded floorboards, he proceeded to take her through a series of warm-up exercises to ‘get her blood pumping’. Feeling perspiration start to gather on her brow, Rowan tried to coax tired, stiff muscles into submission, all the while keeping one eye on Evan as he stretched effortlessly and smoothly, her heart tripping at the sight of that heavenly body on display purely for her benefit. If my friends could see me now, she mused in a fit of amusement, they really would think I’d flipped.

  ‘Come on, Rowan, you’re not concentrating.’

  You try concentrating in my position, she mentally retaliated, wondering if the man had the faintest inkling of how arresting he was. With his black hair, smouldering green eyes and a body to kill for, was there a woman alive who couldn’t help but be distracted by him?

  ‘I’m doing my best here.’ Reaching down to touch her toes, she almost passed out when Evan came up behind her and put his hands on her back.

  ‘Tuck your tailbone in. You’ll hurt yourself doing it like that.’

  Feeling all the blood in her body rush to her head, Rowan quickly straightened, spinning round to face him with her hair escaping from her pony-tail in all directions, telling herself she was mad to have even imagined she could do this. Be here, with him like this.

  ‘Isn’t that enough stretching for now?’ Shoving her hair out of her eyes, she yanked down the pink stretch top that had ridden up to her waist.

  Depends on how you look at it, Evan thought wryly, catching a glimpse of her cute belly button. In all his years as an instructor at gyms round the country, he’d never been so aroused by seeing a woman work out as he was now with Rowan. That curvy little body of hers was even more of a turn-on than he’d first suspected. She was probably right. It was time to go outside. Another moment alone with her in that empty room and he’d be suggesting they work out in a different way entirely.

  ‘Yeah, that’s probably enough. Let’s go down to the beach.’

  ‘Good idea.’

  She was out of the door in a flash of pink and grey before Evan had even blinked. Grinning, because he knew she’d been as affected by the electricity generated between them as he had, he quickly followed her, intrigued to find out just how she proposed to deal with it.

  CHAPTER SIX

  AFTER walking on the beach for nearly half an hour, Evan realised with no small sense of shock that he wasn’t feeling the slightest bit winded or in difficulty. As he strode alongside Rowan, encouraging her to concentrate on her rhythm and breathing as they upped the pace, he cautiously admitted to himself that he was actually enjoying the experience. How long had it been since he had been able to say that in all honesty? Glancing at the woman beside him, her soft brown hair blowing in the bree
ze, her brow furrowed in deep concentration, doing her level best to keep step with his naturally longer stride, he experienced a spurt of pleasure that almost made his lips quirk into a grin. He thought he’d made a mistake in offering to help her get fit, but now he wasn’t so sure.

  ‘It’s certainly bracing, isn’t it?’ Turning to him, she let loose a smile, her cheeks pink and glowing, her face naturally beautiful without a scrap of make-up, and Evan wondered how he had ever found that high-maintenance look, which most of his previous girlfriends and Rebecca had favoured, remotely attractive.

  ‘Next you’ll be telling me you’re enjoying it.’

  ‘But I am!’ She laughed uninhibitedly—a happy almost childlike sound that blew away on the wind. ‘Isn’t this amazing? It feels like we’re the only two people on earth!’

  As she gazed ahead at the infinite stretch of sand turning to gold beneath the early-morning sun, the tide rushing in beside them as they walked, the heartache that was never normally far away seemed to recede and Rowan realised she was feeling happier than she had in ages.

  ‘So, you want to do this again tomorrow?’ Raising his voice above the crash of the surf, Evan grinned.