The Flaw in His Diamond(10)

'My good points are buried so deep you can't see past my disreputable appearance?' he suggested with amusement.

She opened her eyes wide. 'Do you mean you have some good points? What I  really want to know,' she said, changing tack, 'is why do some of the  older villagers kiss your hand?'

'Would you rather they spat in my eye?'

She rolled her eyes, knowing she wasn't going to get anywhere like this. 'I'm just curious, that's all.'

And Roman's look said she could remain that way.





CHAPTER SIX

HE'D SEEN THE looks the old ladies in the village were giving him. He  knew they were impatient for him to find a bride. They still thought of  him as the rightful heir, the son of the Don who always would be their  leader. He wasn't that son, and the business his cousin now ran was  wholly legitimate, but the elders of the village still looked to Roman  to care for them and to provide them with an heir. He did care for them,  and he would always protect them, but sadly he had to disappoint them  where attending tonight's party with an attractive stranger was  concerned.

It was ironic to think he used to resent this tight-knit community,  believing he could never be part of it, and yet he now felt at the heart  of it. But then his confident belief in who he was and where he  belonged had been shattered on his fourteenth birthday-

'Roman?'

'My apologies, Eva, I was distracted for a moment.'

'Please don't let me disturb you.' She was being sarcastic, he gathered  as she added, 'I'm quite happy scowling and staring into space too.'

He matched her look with one of his own. 'Why don't I introduce you to some more people?'

'Get me off your hands?' she suggested.

'Oh, no. I'll be close by, watching you.'

'Great.' As promised, she scowled.

This was a unique event for him. He was used to women who knew where  they stood and what they wanted, and who went straight for his jugular.  They made no call on his emotions, and up to now he hadn't wanted them  to. Their interest in his body and his bank balance had always been  enough for him, but Eva really wound him up. He might even say some  long-forgotten protective instinct had kicked in when his friends had  clustered round.

Eva thought she knew what she wanted, but she didn't have a clue. Her  body language told him one thing, while her worried eyes told him  something else. She looked sensational, but hardly seemed aware of the  admiring glances she was getting. All the men wanted to sleep with her,  but took it for granted he was already there.

He hadn't felt anything remotely like this since he had screwed up his  youth and vowed never to have feelings again. Caring was a pointless  waste of energy, he had decided at age fourteen. And feelings hurt like  hell. He had softened since then, but doubted the shame of returning  home to his adoptive parents after being shunned by his blood family  would ever leave him. After the love and care his adoptive parents had  given him, he had betrayed them in the most terrible way. And for what?                       
       
           



       

'You're doing it again,' Eva exclaimed, jolting him back to the  present. 'Only this time I suppose I should be glad you don't have a  weapon to hand.'

'What do you mean?' He knew, and shrugged the bad mood away.

'We should enjoy the party, now we're here,' she pointed out.

'You're stealing my lines.'

They almost smiled at each other.

The moment passed. He controlled himself and relaxed. Eva had caused  him more than enough trouble in Skavanga, but beneath the bluster he  could see now that she was just a shy, awkward girl, out of her comfort  zone, trying to do the best she could for other people. In that they  weren't so different. And whatever else he thought about Eva Skavanga,  he had to admire her pluck. They should forget their differences tonight  and see where that took them. To smooth the path, he led her towards  more familiar territory. 'Tell me something about your family,' he  suggested.

'Why do you want to know?' She stared at him suspiciously.

He didn't blame her for being wary. He hadn't exactly welcomed her onto  the island, and now he expected her to expose the people closest to  her.

It was too much too soon and, as he suspected she would, she quickly changed the subject.

* * *

Roman's mood swings confused her. For a moment when his eyes had  darkened, the strength of his unspoken feelings had frightened her. But  some sixth sense had reassured her that those feelings had something to  do with his past. Even so, it was a relief when some more people stopped  by to chat with him and the spotlight moved off her. She didn't want to  share her feelings with him. She didn't want to talk about her family  to a man she didn't know. She hadn't planned on giving Roman Quisvada  any sort of insight into who she was or what made her tick. She still  didn't. But she did have to admit that watching him talking to other  people was an eye-opener. He seemed genuinely interested in everything  they had to say, and part of her wished she could let him in just a  little bit. He was engaged and animated, and obviously someone that the  people here were glad to call their friend. She envied his easy way with  people. She'd never had that knack.

'Eva, I'd like to introduce you to-'

In fairness, Roman introduced her round as if she were a valued  visitor, rather than a pain in the neck he would be only too pleased to  throw off the island. Everyone made her feel welcome. Maybe she'd never  given people a chance before, imagining she would be ignored or passed  over for someone more interesting.

Roman had a real talent for bringing people together, she realised as  one of the women called back to her, 'Come and see us again soon, Eva,'  as her family closed around her to take her off to supper.

'Oh, yes, please do come back again soon, Eva,' Roman said with maximum irony.

'You can cut out the mocking right now,' she said, giving him one of her looks. 'Or I will come back. I promise you that.'

He surprised her with a laugh, though they both knew it would be a cold night in hell before that happened.

'So... Your family,' he said.

Did this man ever give up?

'You have two sisters, Britt and Leila, and a brother, Tyr. Your parents are dead, as are mine.'

She was all for changing the subject pronto, but as a shadow crossed  Roman's face her better self kicked in. 'I'm sorry for your loss,' she  said quietly.

'And I for yours. It must have been hard for you when your parents were killed.'

'My sisters were wonderful-Tyr was too, but it's always hard to lose a parent.' Why this sudden urge to reach out to him?

How could she not when Roman's eyes showed the same loss she felt? Eva  reasoned. The pain was something she never showed the world, but she  guessed it must have been in her eyes too, because for once neither of  them came up with a smart retort. In fact, just for a moment there was a  real connection between them.

'You don't know where Tyr is, then?' Roman broke the spell first.

'He's off doing whatever it is Tyr does.' She felt a pang of loss for  the brother who had been gone too long. 'Tyr left home after our  mother's funeral and hasn't been seen since.'                       
       
           



       

'You're smiling.'

'Just remembering the riotous holidays when we were younger. Tyr's idea  of fun was skating on the frozen lake to see who fell in first.'

'Risky but happy times,' Roman guessed.

'Yeah...' She grew thoughtful, remembering that was before the mine had started failing and their father had turned to drink.

'You okay, Eva?'

Roman was frowning. She refocused, realising he was concerned. To be  truthful, she wasn't sure if she was okay or not. A sense of loss had  just hit her like a sledgehammer. Perhaps that was because the families  here had made her realise she couldn't keep living in the past, and the  way she was heading she would never build a future.

She was let off the hook again by more people stopping by to talk to  Roman. Laughing sloe-eyed signorinas flirted with him, while  ridiculously good-looking men slapped him on the back. He had a good  word for everyone-until one of the young men asked her to dance. For a  moment she thought he might explode, but then he pulled back and  shrugged as if to say, Good luck to you.

Good luck to her, or to the young man? Either way, having Roman's stare  on her back as she moved onto the dance floor was disconcerting, to say  the least.

She was tense, but the youth kept a sensible distance between them. In  deference to Roman, she suspected as he threw a glance through a gap in  the crowd on the dance floor as if to reassure the count that he was  taking good care of his companion. Roman was at the bar with friends,  but every now and then she could still feel his stare. The youth was  giving knowing glances to his friends as if to say: Have you seen who  I'm dancing with? Yes. That's right. The girl who came to the party with  the count. So at worst she was a nuisance, and at best she was a  meaningless trophy to a boy who hardly needed to shave.