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One Night with Morelli(72)

By:KIM LAWRENCE


                ‘What the hell are you doing, Draco?’ Eve demanded, fitting a clean tissue to the blood seeping from the corner of her brother’s mouth as she sat back on her heels to glare up at him.

                The red haze that had descended when Draco had seen the guy touch Eve’s cheek and then tenderly embrace her was slowly receding, leaving an anger that was equally lethal but as cold as surgical steel.

                ‘I would ask you the same question but it’s very obvious,’ he bit out.

                ‘Oh, I am so, so sorry, Mark.’

                Mark took the tissue from her.

                ‘And he’s sorry too, aren’t you, Draco…?’ Eve said.

                ‘No.’

                The unequivocal response drew a glare from Eve, who lifted her head to tell him exactly what she thought of him but he was gone… She turned her head to see him walking away down the street. ‘Stay there and don’t move,’ she said to Mark. Her jaw tightened with determination. ‘I have something I need to do.’

                Mark caught her arm. ‘Leave it, Eve. The guy is dangerous.’

                Eve let out a scornful snort. ‘I’m not scared of him!’ she declared.

                He was walking and she was running but it took her fifty yards before she caught up with Draco. As she drew level with him she caught his arm.

                She was panting to catch her breath as Draco swung back, his lips curled in a snarl, his eyes as cold as ice chips.

                Her eyes searched his lean face. ‘Are you mad?’

                One corner of his mouth lifted in a sneer. ‘Not any more.’ For weeks he had fought the knowledge that he loved her, then finally admitted that he was afraid. He’d felt he had moved forward when in reality it turned out he’d been right all along. Loving someone always ended badly.

                His cryptic reply just added another layer to all the other layers of confusion in her head—him being here when she knew he was in the States, his attack on Mark, his attitude now as he looked at her as though she were something unpleasant he had stepped in. She was too shocked to be angry or even hurt.

                ‘You’re not even here.’ Stupid thing to say, Eve, she told herself as her eyes travelled the long, lean length of his broad-shouldered, muscle-packed frame, seeing but still not quite believing he was here. That this was happening.

                ‘Yes, I can see how that might be inconvenient for you,’ he drawled.

                There was a heavy beat of silence as she waited, fully anticipating that any second now a light would go on in her brain and she’d understand what was happening. But there was no light, just the aftertaste from the acid bite of his sarcasm. She saw his hands clench into fists, and the tension that was rolling off him in waves had a physical presence.

                ‘What are you doing here?’ If she could work that out maybe the rest would fall into place but, no, it wouldn’t, because nothing would explain him hitting Mark and nothing, she thought, feeling a stab of anger, would excuse it.

                His jaw clenched as he realised he’d nearly made the mistake of his life. ‘Spoiling your evening. I suppose you do know he’s married.’

                Her green eyes still shocked and glazed like someone who had just been jolted out of a trance, she blinked. She followed the direction of the sharp, contemptuous movement of Draco’s head to where her half-brother had got to his feet and was walking towards them.