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I drain my glass and set it down. “I need to be somewhere,” I tell Luke and Brad later that evening. I stand and tuck the stool under the lip of the bar.
“Sounds promising,” Luke says, his eyebrows riding high into his hair.
“Fuck off.”
“Definitely,” Brad agrees, his eyes bouncing from me to Luke.
“Alone.”
“No chance. I want to meet this girl,” Luke says and tips the remains of his drink down his throat.
“What girl?” I try to keep my tone light and casual. It’s doing me no good at all.
“Jack called. He said you had a girl coming to the hotel earlier. And I’m guessing she is where you need to be.”
“Nosy bastards. Go get your own date.”
“Date, eh? Not work then?”
“I’m leaving.” They both stand, grinning like complete fucking morons. “What are you doing?”
“We can either follow you, all stalker-like, or you can just accept the fact that we’re coming too.” Brad grins at my frown.
“Seriously?” You can’t ju—”
“Seriously. We want to meet her.” Well, fuck! I can’t not show. And it’ll take too long to lose them...
“Fine. But keep your mouths shut.” I give them both a warning glare.
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“Holy. Fucking. Moses! Is that Eva Adams?” I follow Brad’s line of sight to the dance floor as we pass the threshold of Molly’s fifteen minutes later. And my heart freezes in my chest. Christ, she looks amazing. “Damn! I thought she looked good in jeans, but, man...”
“Keep walking, arsehole.” I shove him forward, towards a corner of the bar, and he glances back at me, half frowning. I can barely take my eyes off her. The way she moves, her body fluid and free under the pulsing, coloured lights. She looks like a bloody dream. A short black dress that shows off long, toned, shapely legs. Her blonde hair cascades in loose curls down her back, moving and swaying with her. She’s turning heads. Mainly male. But she doesn’t seem to notice.
“I thought the case was suspended?” Luke says, eyeing me suspiciously as he takes the stool beside Brad’s.
“It is.”
“So...? What are we doing here?”
“Drinking. Pint?” They both nod.
“Please,” Luke says. “So, what? This is another shot? Is that what you’re saying?”
“I said no such thing,” I grate.
“I don’t...” He stops speaking as he takes in Brad’s expression.
“Eva Adams? You’re here to meet her?” Brad says, putting the pieces together. I keep quiet. They exhale a single word in unison.
“Shit.”
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We’ve been observing Eva and Bells for an hour or so. I’m getting more and more agitated with every prick who tries his luck. As Eva makes her way to the bar and Bells disappears towards the ladies, the arsehole propping it up looks like he’s died and gone to heaven when she stands beside him. I can see she’s uncomfortable. Her body is tense, her shoulders high and tight. “Stay. The fuck. Here.” I glare at Brad and Luke before heading in Eva’s direction.
“I’ll get you another one.” The drunk leers.
“No, thanks.”
“Aww. Come on, gorgeous. You and—”
“She said no,” I tell him in a ‘fuck off’ tone, my arm curling around her waist and pulling her body flush against mine. Christ, that feels good. Even better than I dreamed it.
I lower my mouth to her ear and murmur, “Are you okay?” Fuck me, she smells incredible when she sweats. I could make her sweat. And scream. And what’s more, I want to. Her whole midsection concaves and I turn her around to see her face, keeping her close. “Eva? Are you okay?” I ask again.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she says quietly. The drunk’s lip curls into a snarl. His fingers bunch into fists as his weight shifts and I move Eva sideways, fast. So fast she yelps. And the drunk falls face down on the floor. It’s okay, baby. I got you.
“Three vodka and cokes, please.” Eva looks like she’s considering helping the drunk up, but the bouncers have it handled. An arm each, and they’re dragging him away towards the door. I’m not one hundred percent sure if he’s conscious.
“Will?” I hear the slight hesitation in Eva’s voice. “You can let go now.”
“Do you want me to?” Her throat bobs and her lips part as her eyes skitter down to my mouth.
“Yes,” she lies.
***
Eva was in a hurry to leave. Agitated and anxious. She didn’t spend even ten minutes with me. I don’t get it. But I won’t push my luck, and I stay where I am as I watch her nearly run to Bells and out the door without even looking back.
When I head over towards my stool, I find that it’s already occupied. Violence burns behind the dark eyes watching my every step as I approach.
“We were just telling Mr De Luca that you’re handling the case personally now, Will.” Well, fuck!
“Quite the track record you’ve got, Hunter,” the glarer growls.
“Hey!” Brad slams a hand on the bar. “You were the one who asked for him. God knows any of our guys would have loved to have landed her for you, but Will is the best—”
“The best? At what? Compared to what? Or whom?” he asks me in a low snarl, his jaw tensing as he grits his teeth.
“His job!” Luke interrupts. “Look, mate, you hired us to do the job so don’t get all—”
“Good to see you, Gary,” I cut Luke off, and his face goes chalk white so quickly I could have thrown paint over him.
“Shit!” Brad chokes, looking away, his face screwing up. I can see why they thought Gary was Dan De Luca, but now I have a problem.
“Yeah. Shit. I’m going to walk away now, because I don’t fancy a night in the cells. But you and I, Hunter, we’re not done.” He hands me a card. “You call me and make it soon. And it had better be fucking good.” His glare is fierce as he walks past me.
“You think he’ll tell her?” Brad asks as we all watch him walk out the door in stiff strides.
“No. Not yet, anyway. But expect a visit from him some time soon.” I slide the card into my back pocket.
“Shit, I’m sorry. We thought...”
“Yeah. I got that. I’m going home. We’ll worry about Gary tomorrow. Night.” I down the remainder of my drink and slam the glass on the bar.
***
Mae is sleeping when I get back to the hotel an hour later. I’m ready for my bed but Mary is full of questions.
“How was your night?” she asks as she deposits a mug on the coffee table.
“Okay. Thanks.” I reach for the mug and sit on the L-shaped sofa, settling back against the cushions.
“You were out late.”
“Yeah. Just had a few drinks with the guys.”
“The guys? They’ve started wearing perfume now?”
I raise my arm to my nose and take a sniff. I smell like Eva. I take a deeper breath in and nearly sigh it out. “She have a name?” Mary asks, smiling softly.
“Eva.” I’m grinning like an idiot. “How’s my angel?” Mary’s face lights up. Sometimes I think she loves Mae just as much as I do. I really struck gold in the nanny department with her.
“Good as gold, pet. As always. Little dote.” Of course she is. She’s my absolute world.
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When I’ve seen Mary out to her car almost an hour later, I make my way to Mae’s room. I push open the door quietly. She’s fast asleep in the centre of a nest of teddies and soft toys, her hair a wild mess of curls. “Night, angel,” I whisper and kiss her forehead. “I love you.”
***
The next evening, I’m showered and flicking through the assortment of shirts in my wardrobe when my phone vibrates on the bed.
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Sorry for late notice. Can’t make tonight. Work is manic. E
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“Fuck!” I reread the message and hit her name in my contacts. Straight to voicemail. No! No, no, no! Come on!
Did Gary tell her? I’ve left messages with his office that he hasn’t returned, so...
Fuck it. I snatch up the first T-shirt my fingers touch and race to the car.
I twist the key and swing around in a wide arc, the recently laid gravel crunching and then spraying out under the tyres as they fight for the grip the accelerator is demanding.
A phone call connects on the car’s system. “Hello? Eva?”
“I told ya she’d cancel. Bring fish and chips.”
“Wh—?” Huh.
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The foyer is glowing but the windows are mainly dark as I make my way towards the steps to Eva’s office building, a bulging paper bag in my hands. I push open the door and walk towards the guy in a dark uniform behind the reception desk. “Mr Hunter?” he asks snidely, sizing me up.
“Yes?” Maybe Eva told him to expect me?
“This way.” He guides me to a small security office and directs me to take a seat. “One minute, please.”
He lifts the phone and hits a speed dial. “He’s here,” he says down the line. “Certainly smells like it.” He sniffs again, eyeing my dinner. “Yes, sir.” Then he hangs up and turns his attention to me.
“I’ve been authorised to grant you entry.” He looks none too pleased about it; his nostrils keep flaring.
I follow the security guy out. “I don’t need a tour guide. I know where it is.”
“Well, you’re getting one.” He throws me a glare but as we near Eva’s office, he starts fidgeting, straightening his shirt and smoothing his hair. I realise I laughed out loud when his enraged eyes fly to mine.
“You ready?” I ask seriously as I take the last few steps that will bring me to her door. “Or do you want to check a mirror first?”
As I stand on the threshold of Eva’s office, with the security twat looking daggers at me, I’m praying she won’t tell me to get lost.
She is kneeling on the carpet, seemingly trying to organise complete fucking chaos. She could be a dream in her trademark blue jeans. The door creaks as I push it open further and she spins around on her knees. Please don’t make me leave.
“Eva? You know this guy?” the security twat asks. I don’t appreciate his tone.
“Yes.” She sighs. “Hi, Will.”
That wasn’t a ‘get out’ and she doesn’t look angry, so Gary hasn’t said anything. Yet. “Hi.” I step inside and close the door. Her eyes fall to the takeaway bag in my hands. “If Mohammed won’t come to the mountain...” This isn’t how I wanted this to go. I wanted to romance her. Me, for fuck’s sake! I’ve never done that. Ever. Never wanted to and never had to. I wanted to wine and dine her, spoil her. Dazzle her. But fish and chips in her office? I’ll take it.
“What if Mohammed isn’t hungry?” she asks, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow. I might have bought the pissed-off routine, if her stomach hadn’t rumbled loud enough for me to hear across the room. Not hungry, huh?
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I scan the piles of paper, brochures and cuttings on the two desks and Eva starts to move things aside. We’re sitting on the floor?
Well, okay then! I kneel down in the space she created and get comfy.
“You weren’t kidding,” I mutter, taking in the extent of the task she’s in the middle of. “And here I was, thinking you were bailing on me.” Just like he said you would. He knows her well. How well?
“I’m sorry. It’s just madness.” I can’t disagree, but I don’t care as long as she’s with me. I shift my weight from my heels to the floor and pull out the paper wrapped packages. “Fish and chips?” She grins, her eyes lit up like a sun shining on the ocean. Shit! Was he winding me up?
“Is that okay?”
“That’s better than okay. That’s great.” I rip through the brown paper and am instantly five years old on the beach with my gran. We ate this every Friday on the way back from school, sitting in the sand.
The perks of growing up on the coast and a doting grandmother. I was the apple of her eye. She was my whole family. The only one who never let me down. One of the only people I ever trusted.
I pluck the two bottles of water from the bag and offer Eva the choice of still or sparkling. She takes the still with a shy smile. “Thank you.” I can see the tension in her high shoulders. I need her to relax, so I start with a safe topic. Work.
“So, is one of these mine?” I ask, indicating the A3 pieces of white cardboard covered in notes and sketches.
“Maybe,” she says teasingly, a secret smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, her eyes on the mountain of chips I set in front of her.
“You’re not going to show me?”
“Not yet, no.”
“Oh?” Why not? I’d love to see her ideas.
She shakes her head, her eyes down. I clear my throat and swallow hard.
I ask about how her company came to be, eager to know everything about her, and I offer her some advice. Her rates are just above half of other companies in the area. I wonder briefly if that’s a marketing strategy, but I don’t think so. I think she doesn’t value herself or her services highly enough.
“I don’t do it for the money,” she mutters, dismissing me and my theory without so much as lifting an eyebrow.
Huh.
“Why do you do it then?” Business equals money, equals control and tangible worth in my world. She watches my face for a few moments and shrugs.
“I like making people happy. Money isn’t a good reason to do anything.” She wants to make people happy? Not millions? I’ve never heard that one before in all the years I’ve been investing in and running businesses.
“You’d rather be happy than rich.” Only someone who’s seen the ugly side of life could mean that. Someone who’s lost everything.
“Wouldn’t everybody?” she quips dismissively, dropping her gaze back to the pile of chips.
This woman is a mystery. She’s a stunning, successful business woman, on a ‘date’ with a man she must at least suspect has a few million quid in the bank, and she’s happy sitting on the floor with fish and chips? Either she doesn’t understand the power she wields or she doesn’t want it. Regardless, I want to know more. I want more of her.
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Eva asks, “Why do you do what you do then?” My heart skips several beats. She does know? Gary did tell her? “Why the hotels?” Oh. The hotels.
“I like the idea of having somewhere to escape to.”
A soft sigh leaves her parted lips and her shoulders visibly relax. I like that look, so I stay on that track. “A port in a storm. Life moves at breakneck speed. I like to slow down sometimes and just be.” Her eyes close for a couple of seconds and I wonder where she’s gone. What images are filling her head? “Where do you go to escape?”
“Home. The woods. My dad owned a woodland. About forty acres. That’s my happy place.” The soft, serene expression on her face right now makes me want to take her there tonight. But it’s mixed with sadness.
“Owned?” She blinks, drawing in a quick, sharp breath and I know she said more than she had intended. I watch her throat move as she swallows.
“He passed away about six years ago.”
“I’m sorry.” I reach out for her hand, that foreign instinct to comfort and protect her taking charge again. She jumps when my fingers find hers and I know she feels that same insane electricity. I wish I knew what it was and how she does it.
My eyes fall to her mouth. I reach out and brush my thumb over her dusky-pink bottom lip and she jumps up, mumbling something about leaving. No one’s leaving, baby. Not yet. I stand slowly and follow her across the office. She throws the crumpled chip papers in the bin and I move in close behind her.
“Eva?”
“Hmm?” She’s nervous. Show her. I move in, as close as I can get, and brush her long fragrant hair aside, sweeping it over one shoulder and allowing my fingertips to brush her skin. I watch the goose bumps rise and spread down her bare arm before lowering my mouth to taste her at last.
My lips press into that sensual curve of her neck and it stretches out, succumbing to their silent demands, inviting them to travel the path to her ear.
“Turn around,” I breathe, my voice bedroom low.
She pivots slowly on the spot, her breathing harsh. I tilt her chin up to see her eyes. Those bloody eyes! Turquoise, ringed in sea green. I could look at them all day. “You’re beautiful, do you know that?” My knuckles graze both sides of her face as she gazes back at me. “You have the most amazing eyes, and a captivating smile. I’ve never met anyone like you.” I’m still not sure you’re real.
When those eyes fall to my mouth, it feels like nothing on Earth, to know she wants to kiss me as much as I want to kiss her. Why make her wait?
My lips touch hers and my whole body lights up, my blood singing in my veins. Eva’s body shudders in my hands. A small inhale parts her lips and my tongue slips free. Christ, she does taste like honey. So bloody sweet. I can’t get enough.
Her lips mould to mine with a soft sexiness I will never get enough of.
I seal my mouth on hers and really kiss her. And she responds, kissing me back like she means it. Like she wants more.
My hands graze down her sides to her waist, the lightest touch doing weird things to my head and chest. I kiss her until my jeans are straining too hard to continue. I can’t push this. She’ll run a mile if she thinks I want to bed her and leave.
When I open my eyes, my forehead against hers, Eva’s are still closed. I wait until they flutter open and tell her, “Tomorrow, you’re going to let me take you out on a real date.”
Her face darkens. “Where?”
“Do you have a preference?” But I don’t want an answer as much as I want another kiss. I think my lips may be addicted to hers.
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The sharp knock on the door makes her jump halfway across the room. The security twat, ‘Daryl’ apparently, pokes his head into the office, his eyes all over Eva.
Fuck. Off.
“We were just leaving,” Eva assures him.
“I’ll take you home.” I’d like to see where she lives.
“I don’t mind getting the train.”
“And I’d rather drive you. Grab your stuff.”