Eva almost choked on a mouthful of sparkling water. If Sophie and Francesca had chosen lives that did not revolve around the fashion industry, they would have been CIA, FBI or some form of Special Forces covert ops, no question. As it was, within the extended Atraeus/Ambrosi/Messena family, they were a force to be reckoned with. "You ran into them or they ran you to ground?"
Kyle's mouth quirked. "We work in different parts of town, so a chance meeting isn't likely. Sophie mentioned something about a bridesmaid and a guest list."
Eva set her glass down. "Your family need to be part of the wedding-"
Kyle set his fork down. "Babe, the wedding is two days away, there's not exactly time-"
"You don't have to worry, all you need to do is turn up. All the details are taken care of."
He lifted a brow. "How many have you invited?"
Eva put her fork down. "Just close family. I know you wanted to bypass all the fuss and frills and that you probably wanted to slide the wedding through before most of your family found out, but it is still my wedding, probably the only wedding I'll ever have."
Kyle's head came up. "Why won't you marry again?"
She kept her expression bland. "I'm not the marrying kind. I'm just not...suited for it."
Kyle frowned, but before he could reply, his cell rang.
Eva picked at her salad while Kyle walked to one end of the patio and conducted what sounded like a business call. When he came back to the table, his expression was thoughtful, but he didn't resume the conversation.
Relieved, Eva made an effort to eat a little more. Lately, with all the turmoil, she'd been skipping meals and eating sketchily, which was bad for her stress levels. Witness the off-the-register way she kept reacting to Kyle.
When Kyle was finished, she collected their plates and carried them through to the kitchen. Carefully taking off the ring, she set it on the counter, rinsed the plates and glasses and stacked them in the dishwasher.
Kyle, who had followed her in, replaced all the food in the fridge and wiped down the counter. When she dried her hands on a kitchen towel and went to pick up the ring, he beat her to it.
Automatic tension hummed through her as he picked up her left hand and slid the ring on the third finger. Despite trying to downplay the moment, a shimmering thrill went through her at the warmth of his hands, the weight of the ring and the sheer emotion of the moment. This was what he would do on their wedding day, and they both knew it would not mean what it should. But here in the mundane surroundings of his apartment kitchen, the small act seemed laden with meaning.
Kyle's gaze connected with hers. "You're right, it is beautiful."
For a blank moment, she thought he had said, "You're beautiful." She tried for a breezy smile. "Yes. It is."
When she would have stepped back, he kept hold of her hand. If Kyle had been any other man, she would have had no problem putting an end to the tension that had sprung up. But while a cautious part of her knew she should keep things businesslike, the crazy, risk-taking part of her wanted to kiss Kyle, to pretend for just a moment that the engagement, the wedding and he were the real thing. Without consciously realizing she had done it, she swayed closer. "We shouldn't."
"The hell with it," Kyle murmured. "We're going to have to kiss in church, and it's not as if we haven't done it before."
The vivid memory of the passionate night they had spent together, and further back to the long-ago necking on the beach at Dolphin Bay, sent a hot flash through her that practically welded her to the spot. Seconds later, Kyle's mouth closed on hers, her arms found their way around his neck and time seemed to slow, stop.
When he finally lifted his head, Kyle studied her expression for another few seconds, as if he was contemplating kissing her again then he released her. "We need to discuss something. Why didn't you tell me you were a virgin?"
Suddenly the choice of his very private apartment for the choosing of the ring and lunch made sense, when it would have been quicker to have gone direct to the jeweler. "It's not exactly something that comes out in casual conversation."
"I thought-"
"I know what you thought." The same thing most people thought. "That I've had more men than hot dinners."
"You don't exactly put across a facade of innocence."
Eva lifted her chin. "In the modeling business, if you're tough, men leave you alone. It's a way of keeping safe."
"Now you're making me angry."
"Don't be. The strategy worked." Until Kyle.
Walking out to the sitting room, she found her bag and hooked the strap over her shoulder, ignoring the question that seemed to hang in the air.
Kyle shrugged into his jacket and adjusted his tie. "I know you're probably not going to answer, but why me, and why now?"
"You're right," she said with a trademark breezy smile, as she headed for the door. "I'm not going to answer."
Eleven
Kyle woke, uncertain what, exactly, had pulled him from yet another restless sleep. Tossing his rumpled sheets aside, he paced to the window. Opening the curtains, he looked out over the now-smooth sweep of lawn to the bay and a delicate and beautiful sunrise.
His wedding day.
Memories cascaded. Another wedding day, clear and hot and filled with family and friends. Nicola, elegant in white. She had been sweet and smart, athletic and funny. Perfect. She had fitted seamlessly into the measured pattern of his life, and when Evan had arrived, that pattern had seemed complete. Until...Germany.
His stomach tightened. Now, a marriage of convenience.
Feeling tense and unsettled, he walked through to the bathroom and flicked on the shower. The problem was, every time he looked at Eva, convenience was the last thing on his mind and the guilt that he wanted her more than he had wanted Nicola, was killing him.
Unbidden, the hours they'd spent locked together in his bed replayed, along with the uncomfortable knowledge that there had been nothing measured about his response.
And that what he had felt had somehow sneaked up on him, eclipsing the past.
His head came up at the curious clarity of the thought. Peripherally, he was aware of the sound of the shower, steam misting the bathroom mirror, the steady beat of his own heart.
He drew a breath, then another, but the tightness in his chest didn't ease. It was an odd moment to notice that Eva had done something with the bathroom. There was a new mat on the floor in a soft shade of turquoise, and brand-new thick, white towels decorated the towel rail. A large glass jar filled with soaps decorated the bathroom vanity.
The feminine, homey touches should have reminded him of Nicola, but they didn't. Somehow, they were one hundred percent, in-your-face Eva.
Moving like an automaton, he stepped beneath the stream of hot water. He considered the moment of self knowledge that had hit him like a bolt from the blue, the guilt of wanting Eva, and that what he felt was different than anything else he had ever experienced.
It occurred to him that in the years since Nicola and Evan had died, he had done his level best to lock the past away but, in doing so, he had also failed to let it go.
And in that moment he finally understood what he needed to do.
* * *
Eva stepped out on the landing just as the front door closed with a soft click.
Frowning, she walked down the stairs and glanced through the kitchen windows just in time to see Kyle dressed in jeans and a T-shirt disappear into the garage. It was possible that he had things to do in town before the wedding, but as it was barely six o'clock, nothing would be open for hours. Dressed so casually, there was no way Kyle was going into work, either.
Feeling unsettled, not least because after the incandescent moments in Kyle's apartment, she had half expected him to follow up with a suggestion that they break the rules and sleep together, and he hadn't.
She stepped out into the hall. The Maserati cruised quietly out of the garage. On impulse, she grabbed her car keys and decided to follow Kyle. It was a little crazy and a lot desperate, but Eva couldn't help thinking something was wrong, that maybe Kyle had gotten cold feet. Given the encounter with Elise the other day, she had to wonder if Elise was the reason. It would certainly explain the cool way he had seemed to shut himself off, as if he couldn't even be bothered trying to pressure her into bed!
Eva accelerated to the end of the drive and managed to catch the taillights of the Maserati as it turned left at an intersection. Fifteen minutes of nervous tailing later, and feeling certain that Kyle would spot her, she braked outside the gates of what was unmistakably a cemetery.