“Famous Eva, fighting the paps to get to her cucumber sandwiches,” Lyndsey teased. “Just you be careful, miss, I don’t want my friend upset by a grumpy old artist in sunglasses.”
“I made him take them off!” Eva laughed. “He’s got such lovely eyes. He can be so gentle, Lynds. Not at all like you’d think from that public persona of his.”
“I’m only a lowly PA, I don’t get to see that.” She took a sip of tea. “And Rupe definitely didn’t see it.”
Eva changed tack. She couldn’t be responsible for Daniel coming across as rude or surly. Especially to people like Rupert, who no doubt thought that Daniel should be wringing his hands in obsequious gratitude.
“Do you think paps will come after me if they find out?” The camera flash burst in front of her eyes again, and Eva decided she had to say something. “Daniel thinks they won’t, but last night… I think someone took a photo of me through my window.”
“It’ll be a tourist, don’t worry. Although—” But she shook her head. “No, nothing.”
“I wondered if it was a tourist too.” Eva topped up her teacup. She shivered, as if cold fingers were tapping their way up her spine. “Although what, Lynds? What were you going to say?”
“Just that his paintings aren’t exactly Beatrix Potter. Believe me, we’ve had some proper loons in to see the exhibition.” She sucked in her cheeks. “Questions about whether he paints with blood, fluids, you know the sort.”
“What are you saying, Lynds?” Eva blinked at her friend, trying to grasp what she meant. Because the implications were horrible. “Do you think Daniel was creeping about outside my house last night?”
“No!” She hooted with disbelieving laughter. “Why would you even think that? Can you imagine?”
Eva exhaled, only then realising that she’d been holding her breath. “Thank God for that! But do you think one of his more intense fans might have…found out?”
“Probably not, it’s probably just me being silly.”
“That’s a relief!” Eva placed her hand on her chest, panting in theatrical fashion. “I thought I had a stalker for a second!”
“Why would you, though?” She shrugged. “Because you’re seeing Daniel Scott?”
“It’s an unknown quantity, that’s all.” Eva ran her gaze over the cakes on the stand, delicate sugar constructions as fragile as butterflies. “I’ve never been out with—maybe that’s not the right way to put it. I’ve never been with someone like him before. Would some fan of his come after me?”
“You’d have to ask him that. Google him, have a look at some of the crazies who like his work.” She picked up another sandwich. “They’re not all art-loving millionaires!”
“I’m not sure I want to peep into that particular cesspool, thank you very much!” But Eva knew she would once she got home. Just a peek, just five minutes, before finishing off her bees.
“I can’t believe you and Daniel Scott—” Lyndsey gave a little shriek. “Oh. My. God.”
Eva chuckled. “And you were convinced he was furious with me for what I’d said about his work!”
“Instead you’ve become a conquest!”
“I’m not his conquest!” Eva wafted her hands, dispelling the idea. “We’re not a couple who go on dates, but I’m not a conquest, either. If anything, I suppose in a way I’ve become his muse.”
Lyndsey’s eyes widened and she reached for one of the choux buns. “I’ve never met a muse before! Do you have to pose for him?”
“Oh, yes!” Eva grinned. “I suppose it’s my fault, really. I did say a change would do his work good. I’m fascinated, really, what he’ll come up with. Do you know, he’s never drawn a model before? Well, hadn’t until yesterday, that is!”
Lyndsey’s eyes widened again, sparkling with excitement. “He’s already— Let me see it!”
“You can’t, he threw it away! The light wasn’t right, apparently.” Eva chased a small cake around her plate with a pastry fork. “We’re going to have another attempt, bless him.”
“I hope he doesn’t make it all dark and scary.” She pouted. “Just imagine. Oh God, are you naked in it? Is he going to show it publicly? Show you publicly?”
“Yes, I’m naked in it, but no, I don’t know what he’ll do with it. You might not even recognise me in the finished piece.” Eva sliced the cake in half with a fork and fondant oozed across the plate. “I did life modelling at art college and my bottom appeared in the final show. If he does exhibit it, it won’t bother me.”
“Then you will be famous! All the millionaires admiring your bod!” She laughed. “All the loons too.”
“Stop going on about the loons!” Eva laughed. She’d be okay, she’d be perfectly fine. Loons? How ridiculous. To distract herself, she took her phone out of her bag and flicked through her messages without looking at them. It hadn’t been a loon outside her house. No, just a tourist. “It’s only a painting.”
The phone buzzed in her hand. Lyndsey laughed and told her, “Here’s one of them now! Dear Eva, get your claws out of my bad boy!”
“Dear loon, sod off, love from Eva.” Eva swiped to see the message and her heart seemed to miss a beat. It was from Daniel. No message, just a photo.
He was topless, almost smiling, his dark eyes smouldering into the camera and his sunglasses in his hair. The black, loose trousers were there again, paint-spattered, on the verge of sliding down his hips. He must have taken the photo in his studio. The light was bright and on the easel behind him was pinned his biroed portrait of her.
Eva ran her hand through her hair, desire flaring in her blood. She glanced up from her phone at Lyndsey. “Wrong number.”
“You’ve gone red.” Lyndsey took another sliver of cake and peered over, trying and failing to see what was on the phone. “Is it something naughty?”
“No…not at all! It’s a warm day, isn’t it?” Eva fanned herself with the menu. “Better let them know they’ve got the wrong number.”
She tapped out her reply.
You’ve made me wet.
“You’re so sweet to do that.” Lyndsey reached out and refilled their teacups, but Eva wasn’t really listening. She was thinking about those silky trousers and the man who wore them, the toned planes of the body that had been pressed to hers yesterday. Was he working on her painting even now, there in that sunlit studio? Was she taking shape on the canvas of his imagination?
The phone buzzed again.
And you’ve made me hard.
“Sorry, Lynds. I don’t like being the annoying person with the phone, but I just need to—” She replied, How long can you wait?
“Is it him?”
Eva was caught off guard. Was she really so easy to read as that? She touched her cheek—her face was giving off heat. There really wasn’t any point in lying to her best friend, so Eva nodded. “Sorry.”
“You’re so blushing.” Her friend laughed. “Don’t say sorry, I love how exciting your life suddenly is. I never thought you’d be one of those click your fingers and I’ll come running girls!”
As she spoke, the reply lit up the screen. It was an address and the words, Whenever you can make it, I’ll be waiting.
“I’m not,” Eva told Lyndsey as she tapped out her reply.
Tomorrow?
“I bet you will. As soon as you’ve licked the cream off your scone.” Lyndsey blinked then burst into a gale of laughter. “That was supposed to sound dirty, in case you’re wondering! Rupe says he lives in a palace, but when Rupert tried to get an invite, Mr Scott insisted on coming to the gallery. Poor old Ru couldn’t even get the address out of him!”
Eva chuckled at Lyndsey’s attempt at saucy talk, although it did put an image into Eva’s mind involving cream and Daniel’s stomach which wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “Apparently it’s big, yes…very big!”
She raised an eyebrow salaciously and roared with laughter.
Lyndsey gave a squeal and stamped her feet on the floor as, in Eva’s hand, the phone b
uzzed again. This time the message was one word, echoing her own.
Tomorrow.
Eva smiled at the phone, then turned it off. “Anyway, you and Miles?”
“Me and Miles?” Lyndsey blinked, all innocence. “Believe me, after a decade of friendship and a few weeks of lovely dates, I’ve yet to lick his scone, if you follow? My mum is super delighted because she had this horror of me hitting thirty-five without a gent, and just in the nick of time…a gent!”
“You’ve kissed him, though, haven’t you?” Eva started to work her way through a cream meringue, waiting for Lyndsey’s answer. It didn’t help that the meringue’s long shape made her think of Daniel again, but she would wait. They both would. And how much more intense their liaison would be for the anticipation.
“We’ve kissed,” she confirmed. “Beneath the stars on the prom, with a candy floss to share. I was wearing my favourite white dress and it was like being in a musical!”
“That sounds perfect!” If your name is Lyndsey. “What sparked it off, then? If you’ve known each other so long and only now you’re smooching under starlight?”
“Just…” She licked her fingertips clean of cake crumbs, “One of those moments.”
“Ah, yes, one of those!” Eva grinned, happy for her friend. “I’m glad something good’s come of me and Miles splitting up. We weren’t very well-matched, to be honest, but it sounds like you’re having a great time.”
“We are. Taking our time, but we already know everything there is to know about each other, so…” She beamed a happy smile. “And the best thing is, we can all still be friends! We could double date with Mr Sunglasses!”
“Who knows? Maybe!” Eva couldn’t see it happening, but she didn’t want to spoil Lyndsey’s fun.
“Is he too cool for the pier?”
Eva slapped the table, laughing. “Can you see him on the dodgems? Really?”
“Maybe his paintings would be a bit more chipper if he did.” She laughed. “When’re you seeing your hook-up again?”
Eva had finished her meringue and licked cream off her fingertips. “Tomorrow.”
“Oh, so very hard to get? A whole day!” Lyndsey blinked, then opened her mouth, shocked by something. “Those messages? Are they—” She glanced round and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Dick pics?”
“No, they’re not!” Eva was scandalised in response. Though perhaps to Lyndsey, dick pics would be exactly the sort of photo that a bad boy would send. “He’s wearing clothes, but I’m not going to show you! He’s just looking…sultry.”
“You should draw him, play him at his own game.” She held out her hand. “Go on, show me. Or is it one of those special just for us things?”
“We promised each other we’d keep this private. I don’t mind you knowing that something has been going on, but please, Lynds, don’t ask for anything more.”
“I’m sorry.” Her hand moved again, this time to pat Eva’s gently. “Of course I won’t, just promise me you’ll take care? I don’t want you to get hurt and we don’t know him. His paintings don’t scream well-adjusted, do they?”
Eva stacked her hand over Lyndsey’s. “Now, Lynds, you don’t have to worry, honestly, but it is so sweet that you care. Besides, I wonder about his paintings. Maybe he’s better adjusted than any of us because he can get all that horror out.”
“You know that I love you, my bezzie.” She squeezed Eva’s hand. “Girls have to stick together!”
“We do. We really do.”
“And what’re you up to tonight if not seeing Mr Sunglasses?”
“I’m finishing off some work. Clearing my desk, if you will!” Eva chuckled. She went to pour more tea, but only a thin splash was left. “So I can see Mr Sunglasses tomorrow, should you wish to know.”
“I am going off to the big smoke with the lovely Miles to see Coppélia.” Lyndsey beamed, never happier than when the ballet beckoned. “And tomorrow evening I have to work because we have a late view, so I shall think of you having all sorts of very naughty fun.”
“Maybe you’ll have some naughty fun with Miles in London. Please tell me he’s taking you to a hotel afterwards?” The thought of any kind of bedroom activity with Miles made Eva’s lunch curdle in her stomach, but as long as Lyndsey was happy, Eva would cope. Lyndsey didn’t answer though. She simply pursed her dainty lips and smiled a knowing smile.
Chapter Five
Eva rang the doorbell. She hadn’t replied to Daniel’s text, on purpose, to keep him waiting. And she hadn’t arranged a time, either, hoping to draw out his anticipation.
Except now, as she waited for him to answer the door, she wondered if that had been such a good idea. Had he gone out somewhere—but where did someone like Daniel Scott go? She could hardly see him nipping down the shops for milk and bread.
She stepped back from the door and looked up again at the vast art deco frontage of the house. Palace was the right word. It was huge, with ranks of windows in their original metal frames blinking in the sunlight.
She rang again, but still there was no response. Eva pressed her ear to the door, wondering if she would hear his footsteps approach. But there was no sound from inside the house apart from a steady beat.
Someone, somewhere was playing very loud music.
Eva rummaged for her phone and was about to call him when she realised that if he couldn’t hear the doorbell over his music, he was unlikely to be able to hear his phone. She decided to look for a way to the back of the house, maybe to a patio door. She followed the front of the house round to a border of tall pines, and at the side of the house she found a gate. Not a particularly secure gate, as it wasn’t locked, and Eva made her way down the shaded path, the music growing louder all the time.
The sun hit her as she entered the back garden, and Eva held her hand over her eyes. The camera flash came back to her again, and she shivered despite the heat of the day. But there hadn’t been a repeat last night. It didn’t feel as if she was being watched.
Maybe it really had been tourists after all.
On the terrace, Eva spotted the sun lounger that Daniel had lain on two days earlier, and the infinity pool, and beyond that the view of the sea. She was entranced, staring out across the endless rolling blue, but the music still throbbed from within the house, and Eva turned to see a madman in a white-painted room, topless, hurling colours at a canvas.
Eva watched for a moment, seeing the tension in him, the intensity in every muscle as he worked. Then, unable to bear it any longer, she went up to the window and knocked on the glass.
Daniel spun towards the sound, his black eyes unblinking. For a moment he stared at her, uncomprehending, and she wondered if he had fuelled his work with a little of that powder he seemed so fond of. The thought ebbed away when he broke into a smile and picked up a sleek silver remote, lowering the volume. Then he strolled across the studio to throw open the French doors to her.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Eva reached up and kissed him gently on the lips. She recognised what he was listening to now. Roxy Music. It made her smile, because it wasn’t what she’d thought he was into.
“It’s good to see you.” She tasted coffee on his lips and something else, chocolate perhaps. “Very good to see you.”
“Likewise.” Eva slipped her arm around his middle. His scent, the taste of his mouth and the heat of his body set desire racing through her again like flame. But Eva tried to resist, even if she wished he’d ravish her on the studio’s floor. He ran his hands up beneath her leather jacket and over her back, then caught her lips again for an even deeper kiss.
“Did the bees buzz off?”
“I sent them packing this morning.” Eva gazed at him, transfixed, her heart thudding. She stroked his bare skin at his waist, recalling how it had felt to hold his body against hers. “Did you miss me?”
“If I want to preserve my rep, I have to say no.” He nuzzled his lips to her jaw. “But yes.”
Eva kissed him again, exploring his mouth
with her tongue. He was erect and she ran her hand over the hard shape, a tremble running through her which he doubtless could feel. “I really, really want you. But do I pose for you first?”
“If we want to get anything done today.” Daniel sighed, sliding his hands down to her bottom. “But afterwards, we can relax.”
“Maybe it would be best. All that desire in you while you work…you might find a new seam to mine.” Eva had meant her remark in all seriousness, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she laughed. “That came out wrong, didn’t it?”
“I was going to pose you on the bed, but…we’ll get nothing done if I do.” Daniel jerked his head back into the studio. “But you asked for a chaise longue, so I got you a chaise longue.”
“How marvellous, Daniel! Is it antique?”
“Come and see.” With his arm around her, Daniel escorted Eva into the studio. It was vast, the walls hung with a half dozen canvases as dark and glowering as those in the Hawley Gallery that vied for space with framed posters for exhibitions that spanned a career and the globe. She glimpsed unfinished sketches and notepads piled on chairs in this, Daniel Scott’s inner sanctum. It would be worth a fortune, of course, but that wasn’t what drew Eva in—instead, it was the privileged glimpse into the world of a man whom she suspected didn’t let many people quite this close.
And amid the organised chaos, resplendent in deep red velvet, was the chaise longue that he had bought for her. Eva could see it was antique just at a glance, decadent and sensuous and the sort of place for a muse to recline.
“Will this do?” Daniel asked, stepping nimbly over an abandoned coffee cup. “I thought it looked very Eva.”
Eva beamed. “It’s perfect! Can I take it home afterwards? It would look amazing in my front room! I’m not being serious, by the way, but it is lovely.”
“Didn’t you hear what I said?” He looked down at her, his voice hinting at mirth. “I got you a chaise longue. It’s not mine. It’s yours.”
The Colour of Mermaids Page 10
