| |
When I pull up outside Eva’s cottage, the village is bathed in sleepy tranquillity. Windows glowing, spilling their golden rays onto the deserted, moonlit lane but there is an all-out war raging in my chest. Her hand on my thigh feels out of this world. I can’t stop myself from imagining what it’ll feel like on the rest of me.
“Do you want to come in?” The nervous hesitation in her voice is all I need to hear.
“I’d love to. But not tonight.”
I want to go inside more than I want to fucking breathe. But I get the feeling that holding on to this girl is like trying to hold on to a fistful of smoke. If I push it now, I’ll lose her. Maybe not tonight but tomorrow. I want...no, I need her to know I want so much more than sex from her.
“Oh,” she says, her eyes dropping to my mouth. I lean across and peck her lips, intending on a quick goodnight kiss, but fuck! She tastes so good. Her lips are so soft. Her fingers twist in my hair and pull my mouth back to hers.
“Go inside, Eva.” Please!
“Okay,” she says. Her hands could scorch the shirt right off me, gliding over my chest to my shoulders. Fuck, if I had her anywhere near a hard surface, I’d... no! She deserves better than that.
“Are you trying to kill me?” I groan, my mouth on hers. She jerks and sucks in a sharp breath, her head pressing back into the headrest.
“I have to go.” She’s halfway out of the car before I realise what happened.
“Wait! Tomorrow? How about breakfast instead of dinner? I can’t wait that long.”
“Yeah, sure.” She smiles uncertainly and slams the car door before she runs along the garden path.
“Christ,” I groan out loud, watching her disappear through the door, and reach down to readjust myself. Maybe we could spend the day together tomorrow? She could come to the hotel for breakfast and see the grounds. She could work on the launch. Or not. I’m sliding from the car before I can second-guess myself.
I tap on the door, my brain playing out all the possibilities of a day with Eva. In a hotel. Should I tell her to bring her swimsuit? We could try out the pool and the spa facilities...Did she not hear me? I tap again and the door swings wide open. Eva steps through, her eyes downcast and her arms wrapped around herself.
“Hey. Is something wrong?”
“No...” She stands taller, straightening her spine. “Yes. I can’t see you anymore, Will. I can recommend another events company and—”
“Whoa!” Fuck no! “Whoa. Back up a bit. What’s happened? Two minutes ago, you were kissing me like you couldn’t get enough and now, what? That’s it?”
“Yes. That’s it,” she says, not meeting my eyes.
“No.” No! It fucking isn’t it! “Are you seriously asking me to believe you don’t want me after the last few days?” Because I want you! And shit, that is brand-fucking-new.
“No, I’m not. I do want you. I just can’t have you.” Well, that makes perfect fucking sense! “I’m married, Will...” She’s barely whispering as she tells me what I already know. “I have a daughter. I...” What. The. Fuck? “Will?” she says quietly.
“You’re married?” I force myself to focus on one issue at a time. She still thinks of herself as married?
“Technically.”
“Technically?” Maybe not then.
“I haven’t seen him for a long time.”
“How long?”
“Nearly five years.” She denies that she’s in contact with him at all. Now, the bigger issue...
“Where is your daughter?”
“In Spain with my mum for a couple of weeks.” I have a million more questions but I can’t voice any of them right now. I’ll land myself right in it.
“Okay.”
“Okay what?” she asks in a small voice.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I need to leave before I say or do something stupid. I drop a brief peck on her cheek and make myself walk to the car. It’s only when the cottage is in the rear-view mirror that I realise I didn’t ask her about tomorrow. And, in the next nanosecond, that that is fucking irrelevant. I can’t do this.
I hit De Luca’s guy’s number on the hands-free, ready to let rip. I don’t get in the middle of anything that involves a child.
“Hunter?”
“You didn’t tell me they have a daughter!” I’m nearly yelling, so fucking furious with the world for putting me in this shit. For showing me shit I can’t have. What I’m missing out on. Taunting me. Again. “You need to sort your own mess out. I can’t help you. I won’t—”
“They don’t.”
“—be part of anything to do with... what?”
“They don’t.”
“They don’t what?”
“They don’t have a daughter.” She said a daughter. Not a son. “She’s not Dan De Luca’s child,” he grates and I know that was hard for him to admit. I stomp on the brakes, breathing hard as the squeal of the tyres pierce the still night air, the smell of burning rubber invading my nostrils.
“The child is his niece.” Holy. Fucking. Shit! That’s his proof? Eva was sleeping with Gary, and the child is his proof. “De Luca’s wife had his brother’s baby, so before he takes her back like she wants, he needs to be one hundred percent sure that whatever is between them is done. For good. Gary needs to be out of the picture. Forever.”
She wants him back? My job is to clear the path. Make sure there’s no one else involved before he’ll take her back. She wouldn’t stray again because she couldn’t be sure it wasn’t another trap. He’ll have her bound for life. Then they’ll be a family. That’s his plan. That’s why he hired Cactus.
“Right. I’ll get this tied up on our end.” My voice wants to crack. I won’t let it.
“You’re close?”
“Yes.” I hear his sharp inhale.
“How close?”
“I had dinner with your boss’s wife this evening. We’re meeting again tomorrow.” My insides are churning as I hang up. My hands are trembling. I grip the steering wheel tighter, press the accelerator low and hard, and head for home.
––––––––
I fall in to bed and stare at the ceiling when I make it back to the hotel later that night. I want to hate her. I want to despise her so fucking badly I’m ripping myself apart. I never knew it could hurt to try to hate someone. And I’ve never known it to be necessary to try.
“What ya get for fuckin’ dreamin’. All that fairy-tale shit,” I spit and roll over and punch my pillow into a more comfortable shape.
Because that’s why I can’t sleep. The pillow is in the wrong shape.
––––––––
The next morning, I am a man on a mission. I’ve been thinking most of the night. Someone is lying to me, and I’m going to find out who. I have a plan.
I’ve been to the hotel gym for a few rounds with the punchbag. A living, breathing person wouldn’t stand much chance of walking away today, so the punchbag got pummelled instead. I am freshly showered and have already got myself a coffee as I settle at my desk. I flick a look at the time in the bottom right of my computer screen—05:35 a.m.
First, I email Gary, since he hasn’t responded to phone calls, asking him to call me. And then, I email Dr Michaels, the man who did a paternity test for Mae and me. I know more than I should about DNA testing and paternity tests. For example, I know that brothers share a maximum of fifty percent DNA, assuming both parents are the same. It’s a fairly straightforward process to get an extremely reliable result on paternity. We’d just have to warn the lab beforehand that the two potential fathers are related to avoid a false positive. If I can get a sample from Eva too, it makes things even easier. Of course, I also need one from the child. So, I grab my car keys and head over to Eva’s. I promised her breakfast after all.
––––––––
When I pull up outside The Nook, it’s quiet. There are no lights on inside the cottage. I tap on the door, loud enough to wake her if she’s sleeping, and wait.
Nothing. I tap again, louder this time. Maybe she’s not here? I try the handle but it’s locked. Worth a go. I’m considering looking for a spare key when I realise she’s bailed. I told her I’d be here and she’s not. She ran again. Disappointment hits me hard in the stomach before I can stop it.
My phone rings. It’s a mobile number. “Hunter.”
“It’s Gary Lucas.”
“Gary. Thanks for getting back to me. I need to see you.”
“That’s probably unwise. What do you want?”
“I recently discovered that Eva has a daughter.” I pause, but he doesn’t respond. “And that you’re the father.”
“You’ve... spoken to Dan?” he says carefully in a hushed voice.
“Yes.” I hear a door clunk closed and quick footsteps.
“Look, I can’t meet with you this morning, I’m in court, but she is not my child.”
“Are you willing to take a paternity test?” I hear his teeth gnash.
“Yes,” he says at last. “But there are conditions. I have to go. I’ll call you when I’m free.”
Huh. He is denying she’s his child and willing to prove it. I text De Luca’s guy.
Is De Luca willing to take a paternity test?
––––––––
He doesn’t keep me waiting.
No. She can’t be his.
––––––––
I walk slowly back to my car, my mind racing. I can still get a paternity test without De Luca’s sample. I can rule out or confirm Gary as the father. The rhino slides into my brain, and I realise that wouldn’t prove De Luca is the father. Not without his sample to compare to the child’s. Or maybe I could ask for further testing to look for familial links? That could work. I wonder if he has any other brothers? Christ, I’m driving myself insane!
***
When I arrive at Cactus, Davey the rhino is waiting, pacing the floor outside the door.
“Morning,” I say, quirking my eyebrow in question. His eyes lift to mine. He looks at me hard before answering gruffly.
“Morning.” I open the door and he steps in after me. “I thought we’d discussed this, Hunter. I thought you understood what a paranoid fuck De Luca is?”
“A child isn’t a paranoid delusion, Davey,” I snap.
“No. But assuming your wife had someone else’s baby is.” He pushes the door closed. “I can get toothbrushes if I have to. Get the test. Put your mind at rest, but I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty that Gary is not Summer’s father.” Summer? That’s pretty.
“How do you know? Is she yours?” His expression doesn’t change, as though he was expecting the question.
“Have you heard of the Westermarck effect?”
“Yes...?”
“That’s how I know. And that applies to both of us.” I don’t get it. Is he saying Gary and Eva are related? Because that would mean she’s related to De Luca too? “Think about it. You’ve been watching Eva a long time now. Does the woman he describes really sound like her? Or the ravings of a man who always knew he was never good enough for her?” A chink of light appears in the dark.
“No. It doesn’t sound like her,” I admit quietly. My Eva isn’t like that. Not one bit. The knots in my mind begin to loosen.
“I get it, Hunter. I know more about you than you think. I get why you would desert at the first sign of feelings or emotional attachment.” My head snaps up.
“What do you know about it?” I bark. He gazes back at me, the picture of calm composure.
“All right, since you asked. You exhibit classic fearful avoidant attachment traits and tendencies. You are terrified to get close to people. That they’ll hurt you. You are distrustful of everyone, and yet you crave intimacy. That’s not surprising, given—”
“Thank you, doctor!” I snap, but he continues.
“Given your childhood. Your parents—”
“Enough!” I yell, slamming my palm on the desk. “My parents are fucking irrelevant!”
“I disagree. Childhood abandonment has devastating, lifelong consequences. You never answer your mother’s emails and yet you Google her at least three times a month. Your father has a Google alert set up for your name, but hasn’t contacted you since your grandmother’s funeral. He’s just a stubborn as you are. Or just as hurt.”
“Oh! He’s hurt? Because it was me who didn’t love him! It was me who was bribed?”
“He loves you,” Davey says in a voice softer than I’d have believed possible. “Did you know he visits all of your hotels, at least once a year each?” He watches my face as I try to rein it in, to slow my heart rate and stay standing. “Check for yourself. He uses a different name though—Ray Martin.” I draw a sharp, shaky breath through my nose. I hadn’t realised I wasn’t breathing. “And I think you’re falling for Eva.”
Blinding light floods my brain, illuminating all of the dark corners and brining the answers that have eluded me into laser-sharp focus. He’s right. I’m falling. And I’m fucking terrified. That’s what this is. This... ‘I can’t find my feet’ sensation and the ‘my own head is a foreign country I’ve never heard of’ thing. But does she...?
After a pause, he says, “I need to ask you something. How did De Luca first contact you?”
“I...I had a call on a mobile left in my gym locker.”
“Do you still have it?”
“Yes...?” My wits are scattered but my hackles rise instantly as coherent thought returns. Why the hell does he want to know that? He’s watching my face again. Every micro expression.
“Call Eva. Meet with her. Ask her yourself and then you decide. It’s time to choose a side. And do me a favour. Reinstate the case. Make sure your guys know it. He wants this to happen for a reason. Until we know what the reason is, it’s better he’s kept onside.”
“They said Eva wants to go back to De Luca, but he’s not sure and...” Davey looks at me blankly. Then he half chuckles. Then he erupts into full-blown hooting, thigh-slapping laughter as tears stream down his cheeks. Watching him try to stop makes me laugh too. He’s not buying that story, and relief washes through me like a tidal wave.
“He...he said...Oh, God, stop. You’re killing me! Please tell me you recorded that!” He laughs, his hands braced on his thighs. “That is the funniest thing I’ve heard all week. I would have paid good money to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.”
When the guys start to roll in, he’s still chuckling and wiping his eyes.
“How do you know Eva?” I ask him again as he turns to leave. He glances at Luke, who’s shrugging out of his coat.
“Oh, we go way back.” He smiles, but his gaze narrows when he looks briefly to Luke again.
“Talk to her. Satisfy yourself,” he says to me, “and if Gary becomes an issue, I need to know.” I nod and he turns to leave. “Oh, and just so ya know, Gary is Dan’s half brother, no more than twenty-five percent shared DNA. Y’know. Just in case.”
“DNA test?” Luke asks, his eyes still on the door Davey just left through. I get the impression Davey wants Luke to know. He said he wants my staff to believe she’s still a mark. It makes sense from my point of view too. They need to think she’s a regular mark.
“Yes. DNA. Paternity. Eva Adams has a child. The husband believes his brother is the father.” Luke’s eyebrows pull into wiggly lines. I nod towards the door. “He says no way.”
“And who the hell is he?”
“I’m not sure. But he knows Eva. And he must be some kind of investigator. He knows too much.”
“Huh.”
“I need to make a call.” Luke’s gaze swings my way.
“Eva Adams?” My mouth stretches into a grin at the mention of her name and I turn away, making for my office. “So, the case is active?”
“Yeah. I’m handling it.”
“I thought you retired!” he calls after me. I hear the irritation in his voice. I turn back to face him.
“Well, you didn’t seem to be having any luck.”
“If it’s back on, I want the case.” Oh, I bet you do. My options are limited. It would look odd for me to ban my staff from an active case. Raise eyebrows. And suspicions. If we’re going to get to the bottom of this, it needs to look very, very normal from a case perspective.
I draw a breath and nod, and Luke is transformed into a kid on Christmas morning. “I bloody love my job!” He grins and heads for his desk. I stay exactly where I am and watch him rip his jacket from the back of the chair and bound out the door.
I force my muscles to relax. He’s right. I did retire. This girl is no mark of mine. But he can’t know that, not until I have everything figured out. If De Luca and his guy are lying, and I believe they are, the question I need to answer is why. Why is he willing to pay half a million quid to trap her? And why is Davey interested?
I walk slowly to my office, the conversations I’ve had with De Luca’s guy playing in my head. “...He needs it to be over between them... Gary needs to be out of the picture...forever...Gary...”
Fuck! Gary! Gary is the bloody mark. This isn’t about Eva at all! He believes that Gary was not only sleeping with his wife, but that he got her pregnant. This is revenge.
***
How? How can twenty-four hours feel like for-fucking-ever. When I called Eva, she agreed to come over today. There was no way I was waiting until next Friday. I’ve kept myself busy since I spoke to her. In the pool and the gym. Lining up interviews for the hotel and Cactus, and opportunities to expand my portfolio. Ben, my favourite protégée, is even looking at an expansion. I quickly discovered paperwork was a pointless exercise. I can’t concentrate for that long without everything turning turquoise. It’s my new favourite colour.
And now, I’m clock watching. I think maybe the batteries have gone. I pull out my phone and check that instead. It still says 09:33 a.m. How! I tap on an unread message from Jack.
––––––––
She have a name?
It’s none of your business.
That’s a terrible name. Was she an ugly child?
––––––––
Highly doubtful. Eva must have been beautiful even then. She’ll still be beautiful when she’s ninety.
Ha! Fuck off.
Come on, dude! Give me something. Or are you afraid I’m going to steal her?
––––––––
He’s only half joking. Neither of us have ever had a serious relationship. It goes with the territory when you seduce married women on a daily basis. And it didn’t mean much to either of us. Even before we started with the agency, girls were nothing more than a game to be won, and we won more than our fair share. The married ones were always the best. More appreciative of the attention. And the sex. We made an unbeatable team, egging each other on, congratulating the other for a play well made and comparing notes. We never once left empty-handed. Never.
We were what husbands fear most. Better looking, in better shape, wealthier and great in bed. Why would a wife want mutton when she could have prime steak? It wasn’t just about the looks and the body. We’d take time to get to know them, get under their skin. Women love to talk. All you have to do is listen and they’re putty in your hands.
Okay, the looks help. A lot. So does an extensive sexual repertoire and a healthy bank account. If you know how to read the signs and press the right buttons, she won’t say no. We had it down to an art. And we made serious money doing it for a living. It was like winning the lotto. I’d probably still be doing it now if it weren’t for Mae and her mother. And Eva. I couldn’t touch another woman now. I shudder at the thought.
She’s stunning.