WindSwept Narrows: #6 Eve Hastings

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  “I knew you needed the property for the project,” she answered quietly. “I knew eventually you would tire of receiving no response to your letters, so, yes, I was prepared for your appearance.”

  “What do you want, Dr. Hastings? What the hell kind of proposition are you prepared to make me?” Zach took a step forward, his hand out to pick up the piece of paper she slid across the large desk. He read the text, his frown rivaling the explosive disbelief in his mind.

  The property located at 418 S. Pacific Rim will be designated completely for the use of one Zachary Covington, but will be retained by me until:

  1) We marry

  You are free to divorce after one year

  2) We make attempts to conceive a child

  3) At the end of one year, regardless of the outcome, the property is yours, free and clear.

  Zach felt his brain shut down on him. He looked from the clearly printed text to the woman sitting quietly behind the desk and back to the text again. He read and re-read the words and felt them bouncing around inside his head.

  “I’m going to close my eyes and open them again. I think I must have somehow fallen asleep…”

  Eve looked down at her hands and sighed.

  “You aren’t asleep, Mr. Covington.”

  “In which case this is insane,” he said clearly, tossing the sheet of paper to the surface of the desk. “How the hell do you…I could be married with six kids…”

  “I know you’ve never married,” she answered calmly.

  “You investigated me?” He said with a quiet steel in his voice.

  “I admitted that. I never do business with someone without knowing everything I needed to know before proceeding with a course of action,” Eve told him, looking up at the anger and disbelief on his face.

  “Business? I’m almost thirty seven years old and I’ve never been involved in any type of business negotiation or contract that…with what you’ve written on that paper, Dr. Hastings,” Zach resumed his pacing, a tad more ferocity in his steps.

  Eve leaned back in her chair, hands resting on her stomach patiently. She knew a great deal about human behavior and she also knew he wouldn’t agree to her terms. Not yet.

  He glared at her as he paced. She wasn’t unattractive. A little plain compared to the women he’d dated, but not unattractive. She looked like a pixie in a storybook, willowy and fine. If he hadn’t spent the last half hour pacing her office, he’d even think she was delicate.

  “Why me?” He demanded abruptly, his hands thrown into the air.

  “I’ve been considering this action in my life for a few months,” Eve admitted slowly. “When your letter arrived and my agent returned the file on you, it seemed to fit.”

  “Fit? Fit? This is…I can’t even think of words for this situation other than insane! You’re in need of some serious therapy, Dr. Hastings…”

  “Been there, done that…moving on to another line of reparation, Mr. Covington,” Eve told him quietly, the slamming of her door making her wince. She’d expected that, too. She reached for the paper and slid it back into her desk drawer.

  Chapter Three

  Everyone was aware of the dark tornado that stormed through the main lobby and into the parking lot. The door of the large black SUV slammed and echoed through the afternoon, his palms down hard on the steering wheel before turning the engine over and heading to his apartment.

  Jacket and vest were thrown onto the chair in his bedroom, his tie whipped from his throat and tossed to join them.

  The pacing continued. He didn’t trust himself to go to the office and explode at the wrong person. Hands clenched the steel surrounding the patio door, fingers white as he stared into the pouring rain over Puget Sound.

  Zach pulled his phone out, punching in a number with a little more zest that would normally strike a cell phone.

  “Sheffield here,” came the male response on the other end of the line.

  “How do I reach your wife?” Zach demanded without preamble, a low growl surfacing the next instant. “I…am sorry. I…you would not believe the morning I’ve had, Logan.”

  “I’m just glad I’m not on the receiving end,” Logan said with a shake of his head. He recited Sam’s cell number. “I was going to ask how the project is coming along, but I think I’ll pass for now. If you need anything, Zach, call me.”

  “Thanks…and again…sorry,” Zach sighed thickly. He hadn’t expected this kind of obstacle. And he damned sure hadn’t expected Evelyn Hastings and her proposal!

  “Zach! This is a surprise,” Sam hooked the ear piece over her ear and continued sorting the mail for the health center.

  “I need information, Sam, and I’m hoping you can help me,” Zach began a little slower, working to organize his brain.

  “Information about what?”

  “Not what, who…Evelyn Hastings. I understand you’re a friend of hers,” Zach heard the audible silence on the other end of the phone.

  “What kind of information, Zach?” Sam leaned back in her chair.

  “Just…what do you know about her?” Exasperation leaked into every word, every breath he had at the moment.

  “This has to do with your project, doesn’t it?” Sam asked cautiously. “You know she’s my friend, Zach. I don’t betray my friends.”

  “Everything in my life at the moment has to do with my project, Sam,” Zach admitted flatly. “I’m not asking for a betrayal. I just need to know….about her…about…” her sanity, his mind said but wouldn’t allow his mouth to voice aloud.

  “I don’t know what I can tell you about Eve,” Sam answered carefully. “She’s independent…generous…caring…I’m not sure what you’re looking for, Zach.”

  “How do you know her?”

  “We grew up together,” Sam answered honestly. “She came and lived with us when she was just past thirteen until we started college.”

  He knew about the organizations Sam had been involved in, the causes that had come close to ending her life.

  “Did you ever work with her, Sam?”

  “We’ve been in a few places together,” Sam admitted reluctantly. “Bullet wounds heal…the type of wound you get from fear take a great deal longer to leave your mind…or maybe a special kind of healing for it that doesn’t come in a bottle.”

  “I really am not up to riddles, Sam,” he said with a dry laugh.

  “Then you’ll have to talk to Eve for that answer. She believes in the same kind of openness and honesty that I do…kind of a full disclosure thing, if you will.”

  “So she has an altruistic nature…” He tried with a weary sigh.

  “What are you searching for, Zach? Talk to Eve, she’ll answer any questions you have,” Sam opened her address log on her computer. “Do you want her number?”

  “You know she has the property I’m after,” he said sullenly.

  “I know it was left to her when her parents died.” She paused with a long sigh. “I knew the two of you would be thrown together because of it. I also think if you slow down a little, you might enjoy each others companionship.”

  “Do you have any idea what she wants for it?” Zach demanded. “I don’t need companionship, Sam, I need that property.”

  “No, I don’t know much about the property or what she’s asking for it,” Sam answered in surprise. “It’s not something we’ve talked about. I know, like you, her parents and grandparents got their money off war and the things that go into it. We gave up being…” Sam sighed heavily. “We stopped trying to save others in deference to our own sanity at about the same time. Do you want her number?”

  “Yeah…thanks…” Zach hastily wrote the number on the pad on his desk, telling her good bye and staring at the phone.

  Zach scrolled through the contact list on his phone, tapping in the number he wanted.

  “Tony…Zach Covington…I need information,” he said in quick response to the greeting, his voice brusque and cold.

  “Wow, you’re sounding chi
pper this morning.”

  “Not a word in my head right now, Tony, believe me.”

  “Sure…what’s the subject’s name?” Tony Fielding asked, pen poised and ready.

  “Evelyn Hastings…I’m not sure what she’s a doctor of, but that’s a title I heard…” Zach stopped at the laughter on the other end. “What’s so funny?”

  “You guys seriously need to read more than the business pages if you’re gonna hang out with women like Samantha Elliott or Eve Hastings.”

  “Spare me…just tell me what you know,” Zach leaned back in his chair, his brain working overtime. There had to be a way to get that property.

  “There really isn’t a lot. She’s smart and rich. She’s single and never been married. She used to run with Samantha Elliott working to…hell, not stop…you’d never stop it…put a serious crimp in the sex trade of young children in Asian countries. I know she was the only child and grandchild and got a major pile of inheritance when they died off. I know she shuns publicity and has worked for a living since she graduated college,” Tony paused thoughtfully. “She’s not big into the glamour thing…tends to be way low key. She liquidated every single business the family had ownership of when they died.”

  “That’s not helpful…informative, but not helpful.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Blackmail information…” He blurted out abruptly.

  “You want to blackmail her?” Tony sputtered through his laugh. “Ain’t possible. If you title her parents and grandparents warmongers, she would be the antithesis. Socially, I’ve heard her referred to as an ice princess or snow white,” he added with a nod to himself. “Social reporters can be nasty creatures. Comments have been something along the lines of…she’s in need of fashion assistance, some serious spa treatments and make-up training and a haircut. You have to wonder if that information came from guys whose balls she busted.”

  “Shit…you’re not helping here, Tony,” Zach growled. “And evidently she got the haircut.”

  “Hey…being honest here. If you want something from her, it better be in exchange for something she values and wants in return. She has a modest sized house overlooking Point Defiance that she’s had for over ten years. She’s involved in local stuff…the new resort being one of them. She’s thirty-three…” Tony stopped and shrugged to himself. “Sorry, pal…nothing I know can help.”

  “Thanks, Tony,” Zach hung up, tossing his phone to the desk and climbing to his feet. He stood for a long time beneath the stinging spray of the shower.

  Zach spent the next two days in jeans and tee shirts with heavy flannel shirts over top, flinging rusted pieces of metal into a truck, glaring at the fence marking the edge of his purchased property.

  It was Sunday when he came in from his run that he picked up the phone and tapped in the number Sam had given him. His voice curt and flat.

  “I want to talk to you. I’ll be at your place tomorrow at six,” Zach told her flatly, breaking the connection before she could say a word.

  Eve looked at the phone, sighing and closing it before returning to the fabric she was stitching as she watched the news. She had to set the frame aside after a few seconds, her hands were shaking too much to quilt straight. It had been five days since he had appeared in her office.

  She brought the paper she’d printed her part of the bargain on home with her Monday afternoon, leaving it sit on her desk as she worked on dinner. A nice salad, a rich spaghetti dish and a red wine. The table was set when his fist struck her door, making her glad she had very sturdy doors.

  She shouldn’t be surprised that he was angry. She doubted there was much that stood in the way of Zachary Covington. She wiped her palms on the seat of her jeans and pulled the door wide.

  Dressed as before, she watched the dark suit and vest storm past her into the house. Eve closed the door, sliding the lock into place and turning to face him. It was raining and his dark brown hair was dotted with crystals of water, his hand raked over his head absently.

  Chapter Four

  “You realize I am completely and totally pissed off at you,” Zach met the quiet stare, ordering his stomach to ignore the smell of food.

  “It does show in the stance and voice,” Eve answered with a little nod. “Are you hungry? I thought dinner before we discussed business…”

  “Business…that’s what you’re calling this…this blackmail?”

  “Would be a nice ice breaker,” she continued as if he hadn’t interrupted. “Businesses have a long history of barter, Mr. Covington,” Eve said with a shrug. “That’s all this is. I have something you want…you have something I want. It’s a simple business transaction.”

  “Holding a man hostage in a marriage…”

  “By the time the project is complete, you’ll be a free man,” she interrupted. “For one year of your time and a few muscular contractions, you get the property. You don’t have to live with me or put up with me at all, for that matter.”

  “They have clinics for what you want,” he pushed the words through his teeth. “Muscular contractions?” Zach repeated in total amazement and disbelief. He had never been this furious with another human being.

  “I don’t want random. I know I am far from the type of female you’re accustomed to,” Eve said with a wave of her palm. “But given the standards of most men, I can’t believe it would be that impossible to…to…”

  “You can’t even say what you want.” He threw back with a growl.

  “To have sex with me,” she shot back immediately, dark lashes narrowed over the violet eyes.

  “That doesn’t require a marriage.”

  “I don’t want a child to be…to believe their mother would behave so…”

  “Where’s that damn paper of yours?” Zach glared at her, watching her stride to the desk and lift the paper from the surface. He walked over, a pen drawn from inside his jacket and his scrawling print added to the bottom of her list.

  There will be no divorce

  Children – if any – will never know – no arguments, fighting, etc will ever take place in front of them

  I will be their father in every sense of the word

  The marriage – to the public – will be considered a normal marriage

  I will move in with you, for better or worse.

  Eve watched him write, her frown deepening. She backed up a step, her head shaking as she met the anger flaring in his eyes.

  “Terms not good enough for you, Dr. Hastings?” Zach dropped his pen back into his pocket. “It’s called negotiation. Those are my terms. I’ve never married because I don’t believe in divorce. It’s not a religious thing, it’s my own personal feelings about it.”

  “I see.” Eve swallowed hard but didn’t shy from the anger.

  “Research left out a few details?” He demanded curtly.

  “Are you hungry?” She repeated quietly, moving into the kitchen as her brain digested his counter proposal. “You can relax. Take off your jacket and vest…and tie…could you open the wine?”

  Zach stared at the nonchalance, his mouth open and closing, snapping shut with a crunch of his teeth.

  “There’s no reason to marry until…unless I’m…I become…”

  “The word is pregnant, Dr. Hastings,” he said dryly, draping his jacket over the back of a chair and pulling his tie free. “It might take more than a few muscular contractions. Are you sure you’re prepared for that?”

  “You’re a pleasantly attractive man, Mr. Covington. I don’t believe it would be difficult at all,” she told him honestly. “It would be nice if we were at least friends, but I understand your anger. Believe me, this isn’t a step I’m taking lightly.”

  He wasn’t aware of how tense he was until he gripped the wine and the bottle opener, stabbing it into the cork and stopping himself to close his eyes and count.

  “We’ll take a ride to Idaho this coming weekend and make it legal. Are you accepting my terms?”

  “Your t
erms…” Eve said slowly. “You want our arrangement to…to be a lie to your friends and family.”

  “I want anyone viewing us to believe we have a normal happy marriage,” he said dully. “Anyone, Dr. Hastings, including your friends and associates because as it happens, your friends and associates know far too many of mine. I prefer my personal life to be just that, private and personal.”

  “You don’t want them to know you’re being used for stud service,” she returned, watching his body stiffen, his dark eyes narrowed.

  “There isn’t room inside me at the moment for more anger, Dr. Hastings. Don’t waste your time or energy trying,” Zach told her coldly. “I expect you to play the part of a loving wife and partner. I expect our interactions with either of our friends or business associates to be companionable and congenial. Have I made my terms clear enough for you? I agree that it won’t be difficult to have sex with you but I won’t be made a fool of.”

  “And you want to live here? With me?” Eve set the plates on the table, sitting down and lifting the napkin, toying with the edges.

  “It’s what the professional, happily married couple does, Dr. Hastings,” Zach poured the red wine, lifting the glass and grudgingly admitting that it had a good flavor. He sat down, shaking out the napkin and placing it on the side, his fork poised over the steamy red covered pasta.

  “There are three empty bedrooms,” she said, thinking her way through his request. “Where do you live now?”

  “I have a condo downtown Seattle. I’ll put it up for sale and arrange to have my things relocated. I’ll also make arrangements to have our agreement drawn up and…”

  “No,” Eve interrupted sharply, rising from the table and going to her desk, returning with the paper he had written on. “If we agree to this it will be done with a handshake. This will be the only indication that anything other than a congenial marriage exists between us. I won’t have this…our arrangement coming back to harm our child.”