Читать книгу Needed: One Convenient Husband - Фиона Бранд - Страница 10

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 lines 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.”

“So you decided to handle him for me.” She launched to her feet, too upset to stay. But in her hurry, she forgot that she had dropped her bag by the recliner, and in the dim light she didn’t see the strap lying on the pavers. One of her heels snagged in the strap and she stumbled.

Strong fingers closed around her upper arm, steadying her. Her reaction was instantaneous as she jerked free and shoved at Kyle’s chest. She had a split second to register how near she was to the edge of the pool. Kyle said something curt and grabbed at her wrist, but it was too late as the glossy surface of the water came up to meet her.

The cool water was a shock, but not as much as Kyle, whom she must have pulled off balance, plunging into the water beside her. Holding her breath, she kicked to the surface and tried to ignore the fact that she had left her shoes at the bottom of the pool. Pale pink to match her suit, and superexpensive, she had loved them with passion, but no way was she diving back in to get them with Kyle watching. She would wait until he was gone then fish them out later.

Swimming to the ladder, she climbed out, trying not to be aware of Kyle boosting himself over the side in one lithe movement. She was still angry with him, but it was difficult to sustain fury when her clothes were wet and clinging, her hair had collapsed into a bedraggled mess and every time she looked at Kyle, his wet shirt plastered to his chest, her mind went utterly blank.

Kyle dragged off his tie and peeled out of his shirt. Averting her gaze from his impressive torso, Eva walked briskly into the poolroom and retrieved two towels from the nearest shelf. Tossing one at Kyle, she kept her eyes averted as she dried herself off.

Instead of using the towel, Kyle draped it over a nearby lounger and dropped back down into the pool. Seconds later, he climbed back out with her shoes. Water slid off bronzed skin and dripped from his nose as he handed them to her. “I’m sorry I pushed you so hard.”

Eva ruthlessly suppressed the desire to respond to the glimpse of humor since, technically, she was the one who had done the pushing. Grimly, she concentrated on drying the shoes. She absolutely did not want to start remembering all the moments they had shared all those years ago and start thinking of him as funny or sweet. They’d had their moment, and it hadn’t worked out. “I’m glad I pushed you. You deserved it.”

The quick flash of a grin almost stopped her heart. “Still the same old Eva.”

And who, exactly, was that? she wondered a little bitterly. Years ago she had come to the conclusion that he saw her as a messed-up adopted kid. The kind of woman no Messena male in his right mind would date, let alone marry.

To cover up the fact that she was having difficulty keeping her gaze off his torso and a smattering of scars that looked suspiciously like knife or maybe even bullet wounds, she gripped the back of a lounger to put on first one shoe, then the other. She knew Kyle had been injured twice, the second time life threatening enough that he’d been medevaced from Germany back to Auckland.

That time, she had been concerned enough that she had rung the hospital to get an update on his condition. When they had refused to do that over the phone, she had gone there herself, brazening her way onto Kyle’s ward, even though visiting hours had finished. When she had finally found him, she had used her family connection to the Messenas and her celebrity status as a model to get into his room.

She had been shocked to see him pale and still and hooked up to monitors and drips, then a senior nurse had walked in and she’d had to leave. That had been just as well, because as she’d walked out the door Kyle’s eyes had flickered open.

Dragging pins from her soaked hair and finger combing it out into some semblance of neatness, she couldn’t resist the compulsion to sneak another glance at the worst of the scars and, inadvertently, found herself caught out by Kyle’s gaze.

“I know that was you, all those years ago at the hospital.”

She froze. “Maybe.”

He raked wet hair back from his forehead. “I thought I was dreaming, but the nurse confirmed it.”

She busied herself picking up her bag in order to drop the pins into it, but she wasn’t paying close enough attention, so some of them scattered over the pavers. Crouching down, she began gathering them up. “It was no big deal. I was in town and heard you’d been—hurt—”

“As in, wounded.” He handed her a pin that had skittered over by his foot.

She straightened and found herself uncomfortably close to his naked and still-damp torso. “I didn’t want to say that, just in case you had that condition—”

“Post-traumatic stress disorder. Battle fatigue.” His mouth quirked in a distractingly sexy way. “No chance, since I have no memory of being hit.” He hesitated. “Why didn’t you stay?”

Eva, still captured by the sudden intense need to know what exactly had happened, who had dared to shoot Kyle, took a few seconds to absorb his question. “You were critical—they wouldn’t let me stay.”

“I was only critical the night I arrived. I didn’t see any family until the next day. So, how did you find out?”

Despite her clothes, which were steadily dripping, and which were now making her feel clammy and just a little chilled, she found herself blushing. There was no way she was going to tell Kyle that she had practically lived on the internet, tracking down Reuters reports, and that she had made a pest of herself by calling his regimental headquarters. “I had a modeling friend whose boyfriend was in the SAS.” That part was true enough. She shrugged. “I just happened to mention that you’d been hurt and she...found out for me.”

“But you didn’t visit me again.”

She straightened, hooking the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “I was busy. What is this? An interrogation?” Although something about Kyle had changed. The bad-tempered tension had gone and there was an undercurrent that made her feel decidedly breathless. She tried walking in her wet heels to see if they were safe. At the same time she surreptitiously smoothed her palms down the sodden, clinging line of her jacket and skirt to press out excess moisture. As a result, water tickled down her legs and filled her shoes.

Kyle stopped in the process of wringing out his shirt, his gaze arrested. “Maybe you should take the jacket off?”

“No.” Eva had routinely taken her clothes off for lingerie ads, but there was no way she was going to take one stitch of clothing off in front of Kyle. She suddenly noticed the flatness of her jacket pocket. Her glasses were gone, which meant they were probably in the bottom of the pool.

“They can stay there,” Kyle said flatly. “You don’t need them. You’ve got the eyesight of an eagle.”

“How would you know what my eyesight’s like?”

“Remember the archery contests?”

Dolphin Bay, two summers in a row, when she and Kyle would go head-to-head at the archery range. “You always won those.”

“I’d been practicing for years. You came second.”

The sudden warmth in his gaze made her feel flustered all over again. She realized that the distance she had worked so hard to preserve, and which she had been able to maintain quite well if she was angry, had gone. Burned away in the moment she had realized that Kyle wanted her.

She walked to the edge of the pool and peered in. The glasses, with their dark rims, were easily visible. “I need the glasses for work.”

“Why? They’re not prescription, just plain glass.” His face cleared. “No, wait, don’t answer, I think I can guess.”

Over seeing Kyle’s buff, ripped, hot torso, she tossed his towel at him. A split second later the sharp tap of heels on tiles signaled Jacinta’s presence a moment before she rounded the corner into the pool area.

Her eyes widened when she saw that Eva was soaked. “There you are, the bride’s father wants to give you a check—” She noticed Kyle. “Oops. Sorry, did I interrupt something?”

“Nothing.” Eva seized her chance to end the unsettling encounter and the crazy, suffocating awareness that had crept up on her out of nowhere. “Where is Mr. Hirsch?”

“In the lobby.” Jacinta glanced at Kyle’s washboard abs. “I told him you’d be right along.”

But suddenly, Eva wasn’t going anywhere. She took the one step needed to place herself squarely in Jacinta’s line of vision, so that she had to stare at her, rather than at Kyle’s bronzed, dripping skin. In the moment that she moved, it struck her that she was behaving like a jealous girlfriend. Kyle did not belong to her, and yet she was ready to fight tooth and nail to fend Jacinta off. “I’m wet and my hair’s ruined. You need to go and collect the check.”

Jacinta didn’t move. “Did you fall in the pool?”

“We both fell,” Eva said bluntly.

Jacinta made an odd little noise that sounded suspiciously like amusement quickly muffled then spun on her heel and disappeared back inside.

Kyle broke the tense little silence that developed in the wake of Jacinta’s departure by tossing his towel on a recliner and picking up his soaked shirt. “At least you managed to sell the wedding on. I’m guessing right about now, you’re getting concerned about money.”

She met Kyle’s gaze head-on. “Without the backup of my trust fund, all money counts.”

And that was the other reason she found this whole process of having to qualify for her own inheritance so hurtful and undermining. All of the bona fide Atraeus and Messena family members who were born to wealth received vast amounts of money, and their right to do so wasn’t questioned. She understood what Mario was trying to achieve with the marriage clause, but that didn’t change the fact that the whole process made her feel separated from the rest of the family, and different.

Stung anew by what she saw as further evidence that, despite adoption, she had never quite fitted into the Atraeus family, Eva turned on her heel, intending to make a beeline for her car, where she had a pair of jeans, a T-shirt and sneakers stashed for the drive back to Auckland.

Kyle caught her arm, halting her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned the money.”

The tingling warmth of Kyle’s palm, even through the barrier of damp silk, sent a small, sharp shock through her. She jerked free. “I suppose you think I’m a money-grubbing gold digger who doesn’t deserve—”

“I don’t think that.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “You deserve your inheritance.”

Her chin jerked up. “Then why have you been doing your level best to deprive me of it?”

“Money isn’t the issue,” he muttered. “This is.” Bending his head, Kyle kissed her.

Eva inhaled sharply at the warmth of his mouth, stunned by the brief caress and the molten heat that exploded from that one point of contact. When she didn’t move, Kyle’s palm curled around her nape. The next minute she was pressed hard against the muscled heat of his body as his mouth settled more heavily on hers.

The passion was searing and instant and this time, Eva wasn’t content to just be kissed. Palms flattened against the hard muscle of Kyle’s chest, and all too aware that she was making a disastrous mistake, she lifted up on her toes and angled her head to increase the contact. His taste exploded in her mouth and the furnace heat of his body warmed her, so that she wanted to press closer still, to wallow in his heat and strength.

And suddenly, it registered just how alone and isolated she had been. Since her teenage fixation on Kyle, she had simply not allowed anyone else close. She had sidestepped relationships and sex. She hadn’t thought she needed either, until now.

The strap of her bag slipped off her shoulder. She registered the thump as it dropped onto the ground, and the sound of glass breaking and dimly remembered the champagne flute. Her arms closed around Kyle’s neck as the kiss deepened, and suddenly the cling of her wet clothes seemed sodden and restrictive, dragging against skin that was unbearably sensitive. His hand cupped her breast through the layers of wet fabric. Eva inhaled at the sharp beading of her nipple, but it was too late as heat and sensation coiled unbearably tight and splintered.

Kyle muttered something short beneath his breath. Eva pulled free of his grasp, her legs as limp as noodles, embarrassed warmth burning through her. Not only had she practically thrown herself at Kyle like some love-starved teenager, she had actually climaxed just because he had kissed her.

Dragging damp tendrils back from her face, she snatched up her bag and noticed that the champagne flute had broken at the stem and was in two pieces. Jaw set, she found the cake napkin and wrapped the base of the flute.

Kyle crouched down beside her and handed her the rest of the flute but, with her whole body still oversensitive and tingling, Kyle helping, Kyle intruding any further into her life was the last thing she wanted.

“Eva—”

She straightened, desperate to avoid him, but he rose lithely and blocked her path.

Too late to wish that she’d searched for her compact and checked her makeup. Her mascara was probably running. She must look a total mess—

“You wanted to know why I vetoed the grooms you chose. Two reasons. None of them were good enough. And I couldn’t let you marry anyone else because I want you.”