'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.