man, so why not Troy?”
He undid a couple of buttons and loosened off his tie, unwittingly drawing her gaze to the muscular column of his throat. Swallowing, she looked away from that fascinating triangle of tanned skin and ended up studying a scar that made a small, intriguing crescent on one cheekbone. For the first time she noticed that he had dark circles beneath his eyes, as if he hadn’t been getting enough sleep.
Join the club, she thought, firmly squashing any hint of compassion. Just because an old attraction that should have died years ago had somehow reactivated, that didn’t mean her brain had turned to mush. If Kyle had let her marry any one of the grooms she had chosen, they would both be getting plenty of sleep.
He paused just feet away. “Kendal’s agent made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”
There was a moment of weird disorientation, where ordinary sounds and sensations seemed to blink out, and yet her heart pumped so loudly it was deafening. She looked down and saw the lemon cupcake had turned to mangled chunks between her fingers. Dropping the remains of the cupcake on the plate, she grabbed the napkin that was folded to one side of the plate and wiped icing off her fingers.
Losing her temper wouldn’t get her anywhere with Kyle. As long as she could remember, he had been utterly male, as blunt and immovable as a rock wall. Crazily, that was what had once attracted her so much. When her teenage world had been in pieces, he had seemed strong and disciplined in a quiet, steady way. Special forces had suited him down to the ground. “Money. I should have guessed.”
He strolled to the edge of the pool. “Kendal’s got a reputation. You wouldn’t have been able to handle him.”
“So you decided to handle him for me.” She launched to her feet, too upset to stay. But in her hurry, she forgot that she had dropped her bag by the recliner, and in the dim light she didn’t see the strap lying on the pavers. One of her heels snagged in the strap and she stumbled.
Strong fingers closed around her upper arm, steadying her. Her reaction was instantaneous as she jerked free and shoved at Kyle’s chest. She had a split second to register how near she was to the edge of the pool. Kyle said something curt and grabbed at her wrist, but it was too late as the glossy surface of the water came up to meet her.
The cool water was a shock, but not as much as Kyle, whom she must have pulled off balance, plunging into the water beside her. Holding her breath, she kicked to the surface and tried to ignore the fact that she had left her shoes at the bottom of the pool. Pale pink to match her suit, and superexpensive, she had loved them with passion, but no way was she diving back in to get them with Kyle watching. She would wait until he was gone then fish them out later.
Swimming to the ladder, she climbed out, trying not to be aware of Kyle boosting himself over the side in one lithe movement. She was still angry with him, but it was difficult to sustain fury when her clothes were wet and clinging, her hair had collapsed into a bedraggled mess and every time she looked at Kyle, his wet shirt plastered to his chest, her mind went utterly blank.
Kyle dragged off his tie and peeled out of his shirt. Averting her gaze from his impressive torso, Eva walked briskly into the poolroom and retrieved two towels from the nearest shelf. Tossing one at Kyle, she kept her eyes averted as she dried herself off.
Instead of using the towel, Kyle draped it over a nearby lounger and dropped back down into the pool. Seconds later, he climbed back out with her shoes. Water slid off bronzed skin and dripped from his nose as he handed them to her. “I’m sorry I pushed you so hard.”
Eva ruthlessly suppressed the desire to respond to the glimpse of humor since, technically, she was the one who had done the pushing. Grimly, she concentrated on drying the shoes. She absolutely did not want to start remembering all the moments they had shared all those years ago and start thinking of him as funny or sweet. They’d had their moment, and it hadn’t worked out. “I’m glad I pushed you. You deserved it.”
The quick flash of a grin almost stopped her heart. “Still the same old Eva.”
And who, exactly, was that? she wondered a little bitterly. Years ago she had come to the conclusion that he saw her as a messed-up adopted kid. The kind of woman no Messena male in his right mind would date, let alone marry.
To cover up the fact that she was having difficulty keeping her gaze off his torso and a smattering of scars that looked suspiciously like knife or maybe even bullet wounds, she gripped the back of a lounger to put on first one shoe, then the other. She knew Kyle had been injured twice, the second time life threatening enough that he’d been medevaced from Germany back to Auckland.
That time, she had been concerned enough that she had rung the hospital to get an update on his condition. When they had refused to do that over the phone, she had gone there herself, brazening her way onto Kyle’s ward, even though visiting hours had finished. When she had finally found him, she had used her family connection to the Messenas and her celebrity status as a model to get into his room.
She had been shocked to see him pale and still and hooked up to monitors and drips, then a senior nurse had walked in and she’d had to leave. That had been just as well, because as she’d walked out the door Kyle’s eyes had flickered open.
Dragging pins from her soaked hair and finger combing it out into some semblance of neatness, she couldn’t resist the compulsion to sneak another glance at the worst of the scars and, inadvertently, found herself caught out by Kyle’s gaze.
“I know that was you, all those years ago at the hospital.”
She froze. “Maybe.”
He raked wet hair back from his forehead. “I thought I was dreaming, but the nurse confirmed it.”
She busied herself picking up her bag in order to drop the pins into it, but she wasn’t paying close enough attention, so some of them scattered over the pavers. Crouching down, she began gathering them up. “It was no big deal. I was in town and heard you’d been—hurt—”
“As in, wounded.” He handed her a pin that had skittered over by his foot.
She straightened and found herself uncomfortably close to his naked and still-damp torso. “I didn’t want to say that, just in case you had that condition—”
“Post-traumatic stress disorder. Battle fatigue.” His mouth quirked in a distractingly sexy way. “No chance, since I have no memory of being hit.” He hesitated. “Why didn’t you stay?”
Eva, still captured by the sudden intense need to know what exactly had happened, who had dared to shoot Kyle, took a few seconds to absorb his question. “You were critical—they wouldn’t let me stay.”
“I was only critical the night I arrived. I didn’t see any family until the next day. So, how did you find out?”
Despite her clothes, which were steadily dripping, and which were now making her feel clammy and just a little chilled, she found herself blushing. There was no way she was going to tell Kyle that she had practically lived on the internet, tracking down Reuters reports, and that she had made a pest of herself by calling his regimental headquarters. “I had a modeling friend whose boyfriend was in the SAS.” That part was true enough. She shrugged. “I just happened to mention that you’d been hurt and she...found out for me.”
“But you didn’t visit me again.”
She straightened, hooking the strap of her bag over her shoulder.
