IT WAS late when Jake reached Watersmeet. He’d managed to get an afternoon flight, but what with it being an hour late, and the complications of renting a hire car, it was after six when he reached Falconbridge.
There were lights, as before, in the downstairs windows of the house, though this time the curtains were drawn. The arrival of his Ford, which had been all that was on offer, had apparently gone unnoticed, and Jake got out and locked the car before approaching the door.
Once again it was bitterly cold, but this time he was prepared for it. He’d bought himself a cashmere overcoat at Heathrow before boarding the plane, and although he hadn’t bothered to fasten it, it was still incredibly warm.
A strange man opened the door to his knock, and Jake gazed at him with wary eyes. Who the hell was this? It couldn’t be the Reverend Murray, could it? Had the bastard wheedled his way back into Eve’s good graces while Mrs Robertson had been ill? He hoped to God he wasn’t here because the old lady had taken a turn for the worse.
‘Yes? Can I help you?’
There was such confidence in the man’s tone that Jake revised his opinion. Besides, Eve had said Murray was a young man, whereas this guy had to be fifty if he was a day. The doctor, perhaps?
‘Er—my name’s Romero.’ Dammit, this was awkward. He hadn’t prepared for this eventuality. ‘I’m a friend of—’ He could hardly say the family so he compromised. ‘Of Mrs Robertson’s daughter.’
‘Yeah? Cass.’ The man didn’t sound impressed. ‘Well, she’s not here.’
‘I know that—’
‘Who is it, Adam?’
Jake heard Eve’s voice before he saw her, and he was amazed at the sudden clenching he felt in his gut at the sound. God, he was actually apprehensive of seeing her again, apprehensive of how she’d react when she saw him.
The man—Adam?—half turned at her approach, and because her attention was on him Jake had a moment to absorb her appearance before she noticed him.
She looked tired, he thought at once, the smoky eyes rimmed with dark circles. It was obvious that she hadn’t been sleeping well; worried about the old lady, no doubt, unlike Cassandra. Even her hair wasn’t neatly plaited, as it had been before. Instead, it was drawn back with a simple ribbon that allowed strands of silky dark hair to stray over the shoulders of the baggy beige cardigan she was wearing.
It made her look younger, he thought, feeling the pull of an attraction that was as insistent as it was out of place. Unlike the cardigan, which had to be a cast-off of the old lady’s. It successfully covered her from shoulder to hip, its bulky folds hiding the womanly shape he knew was beneath.
‘Jake—Mr Romero!’ She’d seen him now, and her eyes had widened in disbelief. ‘What are you doing here? Is—?’ She looked beyond him. ‘Is Cassie with you?’
‘No—’
It wasn’t the welcome he could have wished for, but it wasn’t unexpected. However, before he could explain, the other man intervened. ‘You know him?’ he asked in some surprise. ‘I was just telling him Cassie’s not here.’
‘I knew that.’ Jake had a struggle to keep the edge out of his voice, but he had no intention of letting this guy screw up his reasons for being here. ‘May I come in?’
Eve glanced at the man beside her and then stepped back. ‘I expect so,’ she said, though there was little enthusiasm in her voice. ‘I gather you’re on your own. Did Cassie send you?’
‘No, she—didn’t,’ he said, biting back a choice epithet with an effort. He stepped over the threshold, ignoring Adam’s grudging stare, and breathed a sigh of relief when the door closed behind him. ‘So—how is the old lady?’
Eve looked surprised. ‘You know she’s been ill?’
Jake sighed. ‘Obviously.’
‘So Cassie did send you?’
‘No!’
‘But she knows you’re here?’
Jake shook his head. ‘No to that, too.’
‘Then how did you—?’
‘I’ve spoken to Cassandra,’ Jake put in levelly. ‘That’s all.’
Eve looked as if she was having some trouble in taking this in, and Adam seemed to decide that he deserved to know what was going on.
‘Who is this chap, Eve?’ he asked, giving Jake a suspicious look. ‘I thought he said he was a friend of Cassie’s?’
‘He is.’
Eve couldn’t blame him for being confused. She was having a struggle dealing with Jake’s arrival herself, and it was difficult to be objective when just seeing him again had thrown all her carefully won indifference into chaos.
He looked so good, she thought, unconsciously pressing a hand to the suddenly hollow place beneath her ribs. In a long camel-coloured overcoat, open over black jeans and a matching sweater, and low-heeled black boots on his feet, he looked even better than she remembered, and she desperately wanted to tell him how glad she was to see him.
But of course she couldn’t do that. Apart from the fact that Adam was standing watching him, with a look of wary speculation on his face, Jake was still Cassie’s property, not hers.
‘So if he’s Cassie’s—friend—’ Jake didn’t miss the deliberate emphasis Adam laid on that word ‘—and he says he knew Cass wasn’t here, why the hell has he come?’
‘You could start by asking me,’ Jake observed pleasantly, even though he itched to make his own contribution to the aggression in the atmosphere. Forcing himself to concentrate on Eve instead, he said, ‘How is Mrs Robertson. You didn’t say.’
‘My mother’s fairly fit, considering,’ Adam answered for her, and the relief he felt at discovering that Adam wasn’t some unknown admirer but Cassandra’s brother made Jake feel ridiculously euphoric. ‘What’s it to you?’
‘Adam, you don’t understand—’
‘I stayed here for a few days last November,’ Jake informed him smoothly, overriding Eve’s protest. ‘With your sister, as it happens. I got to know your mother then. I liked her, and when Cassandra said—’
‘Who?’
‘Cassandra.’ Jake was patient. He’d already realised that her family never used her formal name. ‘When she told me her mother had had a stroke, I was concerned.’
‘Unlike Cassie,’ said Adam tersely. ‘That’s her real name, by the way. Cassandra’s just an affectation she uses when she’s acting.’
‘Adam—’
Once again Eve tried to intervene, but Adam wasn’t having any. ‘I still don’t get it,’ he persisted, glancing sideways at her. ‘Is there something going on here that I should know about?’
‘No!’ Eve’s denial was heartfelt, and Jake, who had had no intention of discussing his actions with Adam, guessed that a less arrogant man than himself would have taken that as his cue to get out of there. But he didn’t. Giving him a covert look from beneath her lashes, she added, ‘Look, why don’t we all go into the library? It’ll be warmer in there, and we can at least offer Mr Romero a drink, Adam.’
Adam shrugged his bulky shoulders. In appearance he was a lot more like his mother than his sister was, and it was obvious he resented the intrusion of a man he considered little more than Cassandra’s—Cassie’s—latest admirer. But he didn’t argue, which impressed Jake. Evidently Eve’s opinion carried more weight in this household than he’d imagined.
And it was infinitely warmer in the library. Looking about him, Jake was amazed at how much he remembered of this room, at how familiar it was. And memorable, he thought ruefully. He’d been standing right there when he’d done the unforgivable and kissed Eve. Poor fool that he was, he’d thought he could comfort her. That as soon as he laid his hands on her she’d realise what she’d been missing all along. Yeah, right.
Instead of that she’d stamped on his manhood and his self-respect, and he’d only just got away with saving his dignity.
‘Would you like Scotch?’
Eve had moved to the drinks cabinet and was looking at him, and Jake gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. ‘Great,’ he said. Then, remembering he was driving, ‘Just a small one, please. Over ice, if you have it.’
Adam snorted. He’d made his way across to the hearth and was now standing warming his back in front of the blazing fire. ‘Waste of good whisky, if you ask me,’ he muttered. ‘Who ruins a good drop of Scotch with ice?’
‘I do,’ said Jake, determined not to let the other man rile him. ‘Do you live in the village, Mr Robertson?’
‘No.’ Adam’s bushy brows drew together above a bulbous nose as he spoke. ‘I’ve got a farm further up the valley. Didn’t Cass tell you?’
In actual fact, Cassandra—Cass—had told him very little about her family. Which had suited him very well. But after introducing him to her mother, she might have mentioned that she had a brother in the area, too.
‘Did you drive up from London today?’
Eve was speaking, evidently realising that Adam was bent on being objectionable and trying to keep the peace.
‘No. I took a flight to Newcastle,’ Jake answered easily. ‘I rented a car at the airport.’
‘To come here?’ said Adam unpleasantly. ‘How sweet.’
Jake wondered if the man had a death wish. Right now he was having a hard time keeping his temper with the evidence of Eve’s exhaustion there in front of his eyes. Did this guy have any conception that she appeared to be bearing the whole burden of the old lady’s illness? What contribution had he made, apart from behaving like the ignorant lout he was?
‘Ellie will be pleased to see you,’ said Eve hurriedly, once again trying to lighten the mood. ‘She’s been virtually confined to her room since her illness. She’ll be delighted to see a fresh face.’
‘And such a pretty face,’ said Adam sarcastically, clearly under the impression that Jake wouldn’t—or couldn’t—retaliate.
But this time Jake had had enough. ‘Have you got a problem with me being here?’ he demanded, ignoring Eve’s automatic attempt to come between them. ‘Stay out of this,’ he advised her, keeping his attention focussed on the other man. ‘Well? Have you?’
Adam blustered. ‘That’s not the point.’
‘Then what is?’ Jake was intimidating in this mood, and Eve realised her uncle had definitely underestimated him. ‘As I understand it, you don’t own this house. So you don’t have any say over who comes or goes, right?’
Adam was clearly agitated, but he stood his ground. ‘Well, she doesn’t,’ he snorted, gesturing towards Eve. ‘It’s not her house, either.’
Which was a perfectly pointless thing to say, in Jake’s opinion. Dammit, he knew it wasn’t Eve’s house. She only worked here. Despite what Cassandra had said about her being a distant relative, she was obviously treated more like a housemaid than a member of the family.
‘He knows that, Adam,’ Eve protested, putting a glass into Jake’s hand now, as if that would prevent him from shoving his fist in the other man’s fleshy face. ‘For goodness’ sake, what’s wrong with you? Mr Romero’s a guest, not an intruder. And, whether you like it or not, Ellie likes him.’
Adam grunted. ‘If you say so.’
‘I do say so.’ Eve gave him a glass, too. ‘Now, drink your drink and stop behaving like an idiot.’
‘Who are you calling an idiot?’ Adam was indignant, but Jake was amazed to see a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He gave a Jake a grudging look and then added gruffly, ‘Sorry. But Cass’s admirers usually rub me up the wrong way.’
Jake was taken aback. He’d never expected the man to apologise, and he supposed he should feel grateful to Eve for rescuing the situation. But he didn’t. He was put out now, and he badly wanted to take his frustration out on someone.
Speaking between his teeth, he said, ‘I guess this has been a rough time for both of you. Eve certainly looks as if she’s borne the brunt of it.’
‘Jake!’
Eve used his name without thinking, but he barely had time to register his approval before Adam said, ‘I’ve got a farm to run, Mr Romero. A hundred and fifty acres and two hundred head of cattle that need milking twice a day. Doesn’t leave me much time for anything else.’
‘Then perhaps you ought to have thought of employing an agency nurse to look after your mother?’ retorted Jake, swallowing half his Scotch in one gulp. ‘Eve’s not a servant, you know.’
‘I know that.’ Adam’s voice rose an octave, but then he seemed to think better of tangling with the younger man. ‘Anyway, what’s it to you? Eve’s big enough to make her own complaints if she wants to.’
‘For goodness’ sake!’ It was Eve who spoke. ‘Will you two stop behaving as if I wasn’t here? I was quite happy to look after Ellie, Mr Romero. And Adam would have hired a nurse if I’d asked him to. As it is, he’s going to take her to recuperate at the farm for a couple of weeks, so I can have a rest. Okay?’
Jake’s jaw compressed. ‘Is that true?’
‘What? That Ellie’s going to the farm for a couple of weeks?’ Eve sighed. ‘Yes, it is, as it happens. Adam’s wife used to be a nurse, so she’s quite capable of looking after her. Satisfied?’
He blew out a breath. ‘I guess so.’
‘Good.’
Eve sipped at the diet cola she’d poured for herself and hoped her words had defused the situation. Her earlier excitement at seeing Jake again had been dissipated by the atmosphere he and Adam had created, but that was probably just as well. Nevertheless, she was left with the uneasy awareness that she had let her feelings blind her to the real dangers here. She didn’t honestly know why Jake had come. She could only take his words about her grandmother at face value. But she knew that whatever he said, whatever he wanted of her, she couldn’t allow a momentary madness to develop into something even more destructive.
‘Look, I’m going up to say goodbye to my mother before I leave,’ Adam said suddenly, crossing the room to deposit his empty glass on the tray. He turned to Jake. ‘Why don’t you come up and see her? As Eve says, she’ll probably be glad to have someone different to talk to.’
Jake only hesitated a moment. Despite the fact that he’d been waiting for Adam to leave so that he could speak to Eve alone, he couldn’t ignore the olive branch the other man was extending.
‘Thanks,’ he said stiffly. ‘I’d like that.’
When they’d gone, Eve breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment there she’d thought Jake was going to refuse—and how could she have explained that to her uncle? As it was, she just hoped their armistice would last as long as it took to visit Ellie and convince her that Jake’s only reason for coming here had been to assure himself that she’d suffered no ill effects from the attack.
And it was probably true, Eve thought, gathering the dirty glasses onto a tray and carrying it to the door. After all, it was hardly flattering to know that the main thing he’d noticed about her was how tired she looked. As compared to Cassie, she assumed, her lips tightening with sudden pain. So what was new?
Jake hadn’t come down when she returned to the library, and, unwilling to sit there waiting for him, Eve decided to go out to the stables. She knew Storm Dancer would already be safe in her stall. Mick, the man Mr Trivett employed to do all the odd jobs around the estate, would have seen to that. But she always gained a certain amount of comfort from the mare’s company, and hopefully Jake would get the message and leave before she got back.
Storm Dancer was munching happily from her feed bag when Eve rested her folded arms along the rails of her stall. The mare looked up, but she didn’t come to greet her, and Eve guessed that even the promise of an apple wouldn’t distract her from her food.
‘Your loss, old girl,’ Eve said, and with a rueful smile she glanced behind her. There was a neat stack of straw bales piled against the wall opposite, and she pulled a couple down to make a seat.
Watching the mare was almost as soothing to her ruffled nerves as grooming her would be, and, propping her elbows on her knees, Eve cupped her chin in her hands.
She guessed she must have been sitting there for fifteen minutes when she became aware that she was no longer alone. Jake was leaning with folded arms against the empty stall next to Storm Dancer’s. His booted feet were crossed at the ankle and there was a disturbingly intent look on his lean, dark face.
The fact that he’d entered the stables without her hearing him caused her no small measure of unease. Her thoughts had obviously been miles away, and anyone could have come into the isolated building and surprised her.
‘Hi,’ he said, when she looked up and saw him, and a quiver of awareness stirred in her belly. But when she would have got to her feet, he waved her back. ‘Stay where you are,’ he said, straightening from the rail and coming towards her. ‘I’ll join you. This is as good a place as any to talk.’
Eve shifted a little uncertainly. ‘I ought to be getting back.’
‘Why?’
Why indeed?
‘I’m cold,’ she said, the facile excuse the first that occurred to her. ‘I’ve been sitting here too long.’
‘Don’t I know it?’ Jake seated himself on the bale beside her and took off his coat, draping its soft folds about her shoulders. It was still warm from his body, still smelled of his distinctive scent. The beautiful garment trailed carelessly on the stable floor, but he didn’t seem to notice. ‘I’ve been waiting for you to come back.’
Eve shivered, but not with the cold. ‘How did you know where I was?’
‘Mrs Blackwood said I’d probably find you here,’ he replied, his breath warm against her cheek. ‘She gave me strict instructions on how to find you.’ His eyes dropped to her mouth. ‘I didn’t like to tell her I already knew.’
Eve’s breathing quickened. ‘I thought you’d leave as soon as you’d spoken to Ellie. After the way Adam treated you, I’d have expected you’d want to get as far from here as possible.’
‘You wish?’ he murmured, his voice low and vaguely suggestive, awakening all those unfamiliar feelings inside her again. ‘Is that why you’ve been sitting out here? Because you were hoping to avoid seeing me again.’
Yes!
‘No.’ Eve thought she sounded at least half convincing. ‘Why should you think that?’
His mouth compressed. ‘You know why.’ He paused. ‘I suppose I should apologise. I had no right to try and kiss you.’
Eve’s throat felt tight with suppressed emotion. ‘I shouldn’t have reacted as I did,’ she said. Then, with a nervous sideways glance, ‘Did I hurt you?’
His mouth twitched. ‘If I said you did, what would you do about it? Kiss it better?’
Eve’s face flamed, but when she would have got to her feet Jake’s hand on her knee prevented her. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said ruefully. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. Will you forgive me?’
He could feel her knee trembling beneath his hand, and he cursed himself for a fool. He’d already guessed that at some time some man had hurt her badly, and if he wanted to see her again he had to stop crowding her.
‘Look,’ he said, resisting the urge to slide his hand further up her thigh, ‘can’t we put the past behind us and start again?’
Eve’s lips parted. ‘There’s nothing to start again, Mr Romero!’ she exclaimed, and Jake thought he could willingly drown in the limpid beauty of her eyes. ‘I think you’re getting me mixed up with Cassandra.’
‘No, I’m not.’ Jake disliked the sound of that woman’s name on her lips. ‘I’ve thought of little else but you ever since I left here.’
Eve tensed. ‘You’re joking, right?’
‘It’s the truth.’
‘Oh, right.’ She was sceptical. ‘So I’m supposed to believe that all the time you were making love to Cassandra you were really thinking of me? How sick is that?’
‘I haven’t had sex with Cassandra,’ he snapped, resenting her sarcasm. He made an impatient gesture. ‘What kind of a creep do you think I am?’
‘I don’t have an opinion, Mr Romero,’ she replied primly, irritating him anew with her refusal to use his given name. ‘I hardly know you.’
‘We could remedy that.’ Despite his intention to move slowly, Jake allowed his fingers to stroke the inner curve of her knee. A nerve jumped against his hand and he felt the immediate quiver of apprehension that rippled over her at his touch. ‘I want to.’
‘Well, I don’t,’ said Eve, but her mouth was dry and she knew it wasn’t quite the truth. His nearness was having a totally unprecedented effect on her senses, and although she wanted to dislodge his hand from her knee, curiosity—and an undeniable temptation—kept her from doing it.
‘Don’t you?’ He leant closer and she felt his tongue stroke her ear. ‘Are you sure about that?’
‘Jake!’ His name was a cry of protest, but when she turned her head to avoid his tongue she found his face only inches from hers.
And something shifted deep inside her—something that kept her staring at him when she knew she shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be as close as this to any man, and particularly not this man.
His eyes were dark, and dilated to such an extent that she could hardly see any whiteness at all. And, although she was sure he must have shaved that morning, already there was a shadow of stubble on his jawline.
He had such a beautiful face, she thought, which was a crazy thought to have about someone who was so essentially male. But his was a hard beauty, his eyes deep, his mouth thin yet so sinfully sensual that any woman would be entranced.
A fine tremor ran though her which must have communicated itself to him, because he lifted his hand and allowed his knuckles to graze her cheek.
The tremor became an earthquake, and Eve felt her resistance ebbing as the shaking in her shoulders spread to the rest of her body. Her breathing was shallow, yet she could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She was transfixed. Yet how could that be when inside she felt as if a series of electrical explosions was tearing her apart?
His thumb moved to brush roughly across her lips and her tongue went instinctively to meet it. He tasted as good as he looked, she thought, and, as if sensing her submission, he pressed harder, causing her lips to part. And, God forgive her, she curled her tongue around him and sucked his thumb into her mouth.
She heard the catch of his breathing, the quickening of the pulse that beat against her tongue. He was watching her with a heavy-lidded intensity that even she knew was different than before, and the feelings inside her expanded to consume every part of her being.
She needed to touch him, and her hands rose almost jerkily to grasp the soft fabric of his sweater, as if by holding on to him she could control this madness inside. Beneath the wool, the heat of his skin rose to meet her clutching fingers, and she desperately wanted to burrow beneath his sweater and press herself against the hard flesh of his body.
‘God, I want you,’ he said, his voice hoarse and unsteady, and Eve could only gaze up at him, unconsciously inviting him to go on.
His hand settled at the back of her neck, under the soft mane of her hair, his touch warm and heavy, angling her head to his. His kiss when it came was different, too, hard and deliberate, taking as well as giving, as if he was afraid she was going to run out on him again before it was over.
But she didn’t. She couldn’t. The fire of that kiss had burned away any resistance, igniting a path clear down to her groin so that her legs fell helplessly apart.
She didn’t realise that Storm Dancer had finished feeding and was now standing watching them with soft, uncritical eyes. She was barely conscious of anything but Jake’s needs, Jake’s heat, the hungry pressure of his tongue forcing its way into her mouth.
He kissed her many times, over and over, until she was weak and clinging to him. He urged her back against the straw bales behind her and her breasts ached with the pressure he was putting on them, but she didn’t care. He’d wedged one thigh between hers, so that there was no way she could avoid feeling his arousal. His shaft throbbed against her leg and she shuddered with the awareness of how big he was, how hard and male and virile—and dangerously out of control.
‘Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do this?’ he demanded thickly, releasing her mouth only to nip her earlobe, to bite the yielding flesh of her throat. ‘I knew you’d be beautiful and you are.’
‘I’m—not—beautiful,’ she protested unsteadily, but he wasn’t listening to her. He’d parted the heavy cardigan to expose the thin vest that was all she was wearing underneath. He seemed entranced by the swollen globes of her breasts and, pushing the vest aside, his cold hands sought and released the catch of her bra.
Eve’s head swam when her breasts spilled into his hands. His thumbs had found the sensitised peaks that had surged against his palms, and she ached now with needs of her own. There was a tingling in her stomach and a throbbing wetness between her legs that she’d definitely never felt before. She felt alive and desirable, and, clutching his face with both hands, she brought his mouth back to hers.
‘Easy, baby,’ he murmured against her lips, and Eve trembled. How could she take it easy when it was all so new, so exciting, so different from anything she’d ever experienced before? His tongue was making sensuous forays into her mouth, aping what he wanted to do to her body, and for the first time she faced the possibility of a man’s lovemaking without fear or disgust.
‘We’ve got all night,’ he whispered, easing her back until she was practically lying on the bales, his hand sliding down to cup her mound through the tight cotton of her jeans. ‘No one’s going to interrupt us.”
No one, mused Eve dizzily. No one—not even Cassie. Cassie…
Eve’s throat constricted. The thought was a chilling one. It reminded her of who Jake was, how she had met him. Dear God, what was she thinking, allowing this to happen? Was she so bemused by her own discovered sexuality that she was prepared to make love to a man who, by his own admission, was still seeing the other woman? A man who, by every law of decency, was forbidden to her?
He had bent his head and was about to take one engorged nipple into his mouth when Eve uttered a strangled denial. ‘No,’ she said, a very real panic giving her voice the edge of hysteria. ‘No. No, you can’t. You don’t understand.’ Wriggling out from under him, she hurriedly pulled the folds of her cardigan together and faced him with wide, agonised eyes. ‘We can’t do this. I can’t do this. It wouldn’t be right.’
Jake stared at her. Despite the fact that he was very obviously aroused, and his expression mirrored the frustration he was feeling, his voice was unnaturally quiet when he said, ‘This is about Cassandra, isn’t it? You think that because Cassandra introduced us—’
‘No. No, it’s not that.’
Eve moved her head frantically from side to side, but Jake’s patience wasn’t infinite. ‘What, then?’ he asked, his voice hardening a little. ‘I’ve told you I’m not interested in Cassandra. Okay, so I know she’s a relative of yours, but that can’t be helped. She’ll get over it.’
‘No! No, she won’t.’
The panic was rising in Eve’s voice now, and Jake seemed to realise there was more than simple anxiety about a distant cousin going on here. ‘What, then?’ he said again, controlling his temper with an obvious effort. ‘Why do we need to concern ourselves with what she thinks? She’s not your keeper, is she?’
‘She’s my mother,’ said Eve, her chest heaving with emotion. ‘Now do you see why I can’t have anything more to do with you? She’s my mother!’