‘You’re doing it again,’ Eva exclaimed, jolting him back to the present. ‘Only this time I suppose I should be glad you don’t have a weapon to hand.’
‘What do you mean?’ He knew, and shrugged the bad mood away.
‘We should enjoy the party, now we’re here,’ she pointed out.
‘You’re stealing my lines.’
They almost smiled at each other.
The moment passed. He controlled himself and relaxed. Eva had caused him more than enough trouble in Skavanga, but beneath the bluster he could see now that she was just a shy, awkward girl, out of her comfort zone, trying to do the best she could for other people. In that they weren’t so different. And whatever else he thought about Eva Skavanga, he had to admire her pluck. They should forget their differences tonight and see where that took them. To smooth the path, he led her towards more familiar territory. ‘Tell me something about your family,’ he suggested.
‘Why do you want to know?’ She stared at him suspiciously.
He didn’t blame her for being wary. He hadn’t exactly welcomed her onto the island, and now he expected her to expose the people closest to her.
It was too much too soon and, as he suspected she would, she quickly changed the subject.
* * *
Roman’s mood swings confused her. For a moment when his eyes had darkened, the strength of his unspoken feelings had frightened her. But some sixth sense had reassured her that those feelings had something to do with his past. Even so, it was a relief when some more people stopped by to chat with him and the spotlight moved off her. She didn’t want to share her feelings with him. She didn’t want to talk about her family to a man she didn’t know. She hadn’t planned on giving Roman Quisvada any sort of insight into who she was or what made her tick. She still didn’t. But she did have to admit that watching him talking to other people was an eye-opener. He seemed genuinely interested in everything they had to say, and part of her wished she could let him in just a little bit. He was engaged and animated, and obviously someone that the people here were glad to call their friend. She envied his easy way with people. She’d never had that knack.
‘Eva, I’d like to introduce you to—’
In fairness, Roman introduced her round as if she were a valued visitor, rather than a pain in the neck he would be only too pleased to throw off the island. Everyone made her feel welcome. Maybe she’d never given people a chance before, imagining she would be ignored or passed over for someone more interesting.
Roman had a real talent for bringing people together, she realised as one of the women called back to her, ‘Come and see us again soon, Eva,’ as her family closed around her to take her off to supper.
‘Oh, yes, please do come back again soon, Eva,’ Roman said with maximum irony.
‘You can cut out the mocking right now,’ she said, giving him one of her looks. ‘Or I will come back. I promise you that.’
He surprised her with a laugh, though they both knew it would be a cold night in hell before that happened.
‘So... Your family,’ he said.
Did this man ever give up?
‘You have two sisters, Britt and Leila, and a brother, Tyr. Your parents are dead, as are mine.’
She was all for changing the subject pronto, but as a shadow crossed Roman’s face her better self kicked in. ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ she said quietly.
‘And I for yours. It must have been hard for you when your parents were killed.’
‘My sisters were wonderful—Tyr was too, but it’s always hard to lose a parent.’ Why this sudden urge to reach out to him?
How could she not when Roman’s eyes showed the same loss she felt? Eva reasoned. The pain was something she never showed the world, but she guessed it must have been in her eyes too, because for once neither of them came up with a smart retort. In fact, just for a moment there was a real connection between them.
‘You don’t know where Tyr is, then?’ Roman broke the spell first.
‘He’s off doing whatever it is Tyr does.’ She felt a pang of loss for the brother who had been gone too long. ‘Tyr left home after our mother’s funeral and hasn’t been seen since.’
‘You’re smiling.’
‘Just remembering the riotous holidays when we were younger. Tyr’s idea of fun was skating on the frozen lake to see who fell in first.’
‘Risky but happy times,’ Roman guessed.
‘Yeah...’ She grew thoughtful, remembering that was before the mine had started failing and their father had turned to drink.
‘You okay, Eva?’
Roman was frowning. She refocused, realising he was concerned. To be truthful, she wasn’t sure if she was okay or not. A sense of loss had just hit her like a sledgehammer. Perhaps that was because the families here had made her realise she couldn’t keep living in the past, and the way she was heading she would never build a future.
She was let off the hook again by more people stopping by to talk to Roman. Laughing sloe-eyed signorinas flirted with him, while ridiculously good-looking men slapped him on the back. He had a good word for everyone—until one of the young men asked her to dance. For a moment she thought he might explode, but then he pulled back and shrugged as if to say, Good luck to you.
Good luck to her, or to the young man? Either way, having Roman’s stare on her back as she moved onto the dance floor was disconcerting, to say the least.
She was tense, but the youth kept a sensible distance between them. In deference to Roman, she suspected as he threw a glance through a gap in the crowd on the dance floor as if to reassure the count that he was taking good care of his companion. Roman was at the bar with friends, but every now and then she could still feel his stare. The youth was giving knowing glances to his friends as if to say: Have you seen who I’m dancing with? Yes. That’s right. The girl who came to the party with the count. So at worst she was a nuisance, and at best she was a meaningless trophy to a boy who hardly needed to shave.
Perfect.
And just an hour or so ago she had imagined she would be the wallflower while Roman and his friends had fun. The irony of it was, she was having a good time with great people, while the one person she wanted to spend time with couldn’t give a damn.
* * *
His blood was racing through his veins, pounding in his temple, threatening to provoke him into the type of action he abhorred at weddings. Initially, he had been glad when one of the village youths—a polite lad from a good family well known to him—had invited Eva onto the dance floor. He had tried telling himself that he deserved a break from the redhead, and that he had done his duty by her. And, as they had agreed, now she was here there was no reason why she shouldn’t enjoy the party. But he had not expected to feel like this—as if he couldn’t bear to let her out of his sight for one second, or that he had to keep on checking where the boy’s hands were. A mere matter of millimetres could turn him from heated into a raging bull. Making his excuses, he left his friends.
* * *
She was enjoying herself—having a wonderful time, Eva told herself firmly. Why wouldn’t she when she was dancing with her feet in the surf on a sugar-sand beach? The youth was polite enough. She couldn’t fault him. Even the fact that he was only dancing with her to impress his friends didn’t help. Nothing helped.
She tried again. This. Was Great. Dancing in the moonlight on an exotic beach? What could be better?
Dancing with Roman.
She glanced at the bar, wondering where he was, and had to remind herself that they weren’t really a couple. They weren’t a couple at all. He had no claim on her. She had no claim on him. And she didn’t want to appear rude. Everyone was being so kind to her at the party, even this enthusiastic youth. She owed it to him to finish the dance. But why did she feel as if everything had gone fl
at? The setting was incredible. The sky was a piece of black velvet studded with diamond stars with just enough scudding pewter clouds to add some drama. The music was beguiling, and the scent of food was making her mouth water...
‘That food smells wonderful.’ She politely removed herself from the young man’s arms. ‘I’m absolutely starving, aren’t you?’
‘Would you like me to get you something to eat, signorina?’
‘Oh, no, that’s okay. I don’t want to keep you from your friends.’
The youth was off like a hare from the traps. Eva smiled ruefully, knowing she was just a game to him. She was just a game to Roman too... She looked around, trying to find him, and came up blank. Never mind, she’d get something to eat. Chefs in tall white hats had been working tirelessly on several barbecues all night. She chose a giant-sized baguette with all the trimmings, and it was only when she bit into it that she realised how hungry she was. When had she last eaten?
‘I see you’ve finished dancing.’
‘Roman? Sorry...’ She swung around and almost choked. ‘You startled me.’
‘So I see. You’d better wash that down,’ he said as he offered her an ice-cold misted bottle.
The sharp tang of homemade lemonade made her cough and splutter even more. This was hardly the role she had written for herself back in Skavanga—the role featuring a confident heroine who knew exactly what her mission was, and how to achieve success. In that version of events she would be forthright and concise. She would be dignified and compelling. She would not be choking on a sausage sandwich.
She tried hard not to notice that Roman was barefoot with his chinos rolled up, or that he had the most incredibly powerful calves. He’d been wading in the surf, judging by the spray covering his clothes. And she was paying him a great deal too much attention. And in all the wrong places, she realised, lifting her chin to meet his mocking gaze.
‘I hope you’re having a good time?’ His face was deeply shadowed as he asked the question.
How could she not? She would have to be wood from the neck up not to lap up this sort of encounter. It was scary. It was exciting. It was so much more than she had ever dreamed it could be. Moonlight made everyone more mysterious, and Roman Quisvada by moonlight was a mystery like no other.
‘It can’t be easy for you when you don’t know anyone here, Eva.’
‘But everyone I’ve met has been so friendly.’
‘So I’ve noticed.’ He glanced around as if to convince himself that the youth had gone. ‘Handkerchief?’ he suggested.
She had been trying surreptitiously to lick her lips while he was distracted. ‘Thank you...’
‘I apologise for leaving you to your own devices for so long.’
‘You don’t need to apologise. I was extremely well looked after.’
He didn’t like that any more than she liked Roman monitoring her behaviour at the party. But under the circumstances wasn’t it better to call a truce? ‘It’s a very good party. Thank you for inviting me.’
‘I didn’t have much option.’
‘And neither did I,’ she fired back, lifting her chin to confront him.
Who knew what Roman was thinking? There was calculation and even a little humour in his gaze, as if he knew something she didn’t. Time to go, she reasoned, but then he broke the standoff between them with a laugh, and the night breeze chose that same moment to ruffle his thick black hair. As he raked it roughly into place she was mesmerised.
‘The party isn’t over yet, Eva. I take it you didn’t find a room for the night?’
She silently thanked the shadows for hiding her burning cheeks. She hadn’t even thought to ask.
‘That’s all right,’ Roman soothed as if he had known all along she would forget. ‘You’ll stay with me. I haven’t changed my mind.’
But she had. It would be crazy to stay with him. She had so many fantasies rampaging through her head, but if he touched her. If he—
‘Don’t look so worried, Eva. All I’m offering is a bed for the night.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘What else would you be offering?’
Her voice might be dismissive, but she was disappointed. She was even a little humiliated to think Roman didn’t want to try to get her into his bed.
Perhaps he knew.
No. He couldn’t know that bold, brash Eva Skavanga was painfully inexperienced. How shaming would that be? He’d probably laugh. She’d probably join him. It was ridiculous for a woman who carried on as she did to be so naive.
‘Problem, Eva?’
‘Why do you ask?’ she flashed defensively.
‘You’re frowning again?’
‘I don’t have a problem.’
Even Eva Skavanga had to remember her manners.
‘And I’m very grateful to you for allowing me to stay the night.’
There was no problem. The palazzo was as big as a hotel. Her fantasies would be the closest she’d ever get to Roman. And that was quite close enough.
* * *
They had made their way back to the dance floor again. She barely had a chance to register this before one of the girls she’d been talking to earlier pushed her playfully into Roman’s arms. Before she could disentangle herself Roman tightened his grip. She stiffened immediately.
‘You’re not going to cause a scene, I hope, Eva?’
She didn’t trust herself to speak while her body was busily registering every tiny shift and change in Roman’s muscular frame. ‘Surely, I don’t have to dance with you?’ Her throat tightened on every syllable.
‘Would that be so terrible?’
Roman’s voice was warm and sexy, and everyone was watching them to see what she would do.
‘I don’t think you have a choice.’
Didn’t she know it! She turned to smile at the other girl, who was now dancing happily with her partner. ‘One dance,’ she gritted out ungraciously.
‘One dance will be more than enough for me,’ Roman assured her with amusement.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘NO TRICKS, NO JOKES at my expense, no underhand tactics of any kind,’ Eva warned as they stood facing each other on the dance floor. Her body, predictably enough, was going crazy during this speech.
‘If only you didn’t need me quite so much,’ Roman taunted softly. ‘If only you could vent your anger openly as you are used to doing, and tell me exactly where you’d like me to go. You’d feel so much better, wouldn’t you, Eva?’
Smug bastard. Why had she taken so much trouble tracking him down?
Every nerve ending in her body answered that question.
And she had always prided herself on being strong? Her body was softening, while her nipples were tight little buds of hard rebellion. And as for the rest of her—
It was better not to think about the rest of her. Her frustrated body was responding to Roman as if it had identified a solution to its problem in the shape of a man who knew everything about a woman’s needs and how to serve them. And her body was in no rush to let him go. She should have stayed in Skavanga and intensified her campaign against him.
Really? Are you sure that’s what you would have preferred to do, rather than come here to this sultry island and dance with this man?
‘Round about now,’ Roman murmured with his mouth very close to her ear, ‘I’m betting you’re thinking, why did I take so much trouble tracking him down?’
‘What?’ The word exploded out of her. Forcing a deep, calming breath into her lungs, she steadied herself before assuring him, ‘I’m here, and I’m staying until I get what I want from you.’
Roman laughed. ‘You might get more than you expect.’
‘I’ll just have to take my chances.’
‘Indeed you will,’ he agreed, testing her brav
ado by tightening his grip.
‘I said, no funny business,’ she reminded him as her senses tripped off into hyperspace.
‘You wish. Are you comfortable, Eva? Is there enough space between us?’
‘Just be glad I’m not wearing stilettos.’ She shot a sweet smile at him for the benefit of any onlookers. There could never be enough space between them.
‘Should we be moving?’ she suggested as the band started to play.
‘My apologies,’ Roman murmured. ‘I was thinking of something else.’
‘How flattering.’
‘I was just wondering what you’re frightened of—’
‘I’m not frightened,’ she cut in.
‘You’re very tense...’
Her cheeks were burning. Her body was in turmoil. She could not have anticipated how it would feel to be drawn up close against Roman’s hard frame. And she wasn’t about to tell him that. ‘Dancing with me must be such a chore for you,’ she said instead.
‘A workload beyond imagining.’ Shifting position, he made sure that even more of her was welded to him.
They did move well together...very well.
‘People are staring at us. What must they think?’
‘That you’re new in the village. They’re wondering who you are and why you came here with me.’
‘I hope they don’t think we’re in some sort of relationship?’
‘Almost certainly.’
‘And you don’t care?’ She gazed up and shook her head.
‘I never explain my private life and I certainly don’t excuse it.’
She would hold herself stiffly from now on. She wouldn’t look at him.
But there was something about Roman that drew her gaze. The quirk of his brow, the curve of his mouth, and that wicked glint in his eyes.
‘Do you get some sort of kick out of tormenting me?’ she demanded when he surprised her by glancing down with amusement as if he knew her fascination.
The Flaw in His Diamond Page 6
