in these stupid heels she still had to look up at him, which was a novelty for her, and one she didn’t enjoy. He had to be at least six-four or five, she estimated. Concentrating on his face didn’t improve her growing sense of antipathy. His angular jaw was hard and uncompromisingly set, and his features, from heavy-lidded startling blue eyes to firm, sculpted mouth, managed miraculously to combine regularity with an individuality which made it impossible to dismiss him as just a pretty face.
If he sneered once more she might just give in to the growing desire to throw an unladylike punch.
‘Oh, but you are going—and now.’ The soft observation left no room for negotiation.
‘Uncle Drew, don’t!’ Daniel discovered his voice as his uncle’s hand fell heavily on Eve’s shoulder. ‘You don’t understand.’
Some of the implacable hardness died from Drew’s eyes as he looked towards his nephew’s horrified face. ‘I understand, all right. At best she’s a tart with a heart, Dan—at worst a predatory little bitch who targets boys like you because anyone with a bit more experience can see past her innocent eyes, beautiful face and sexy body.’ It was obvious from the contemptuous curl of his lips as he glanced at Eve which version he favoured.
Sexy body! Eve was so stunned by this assessment that all that emerged from her lips by way of defence was a strangled croak.
‘When I came in it looked to me like you were having second thoughts. Am I right, Dan?’
‘Yes, But not… She’s…’ the boy began, throwing Eve a horrified look of apology.
Eve looked at the stuttering boy and willed him to spit out the explanation. Since when did I need people to speak for me? she thought as she was hit by a wave of self-disgust for this display of wimpish behaviour.
‘You don’t want to learn the stale tricks she can teach you, Dan. Some day you’ll understand that fumbling can be a lot of fun, especially when you’re both fumbling.’
Eve, taken aback by this unexpected recommendation, caught herself thinking he looked almost human for a second. Was it the memory of a girl he’d fumbled with that brought a quite unexpectedly bleak expression to his eyes? Much more likely it was indigestion, she told herself, dismissing this fanciful notion; he wasn’t the type to get mushy and nostalgic about old flames.
The notion of his perfect uncle being personally acquainted with fumbling robbed Daniel of his last remaining powers of articulation.
If Nick and his companions, carefully selected for their ability to spread gossip, hadn’t entered the room at that moment Eve had no doubts she’d have been ignominiously expelled from the house.
Nick Gordon didn’t have to call on his excellent acting ability to display shock. After a brief moment of startled amazement, tinged by a degree of irritation that his excellent plan would have to be ditched, he swiftly assessed the situation and recovered his poise. Damage limitation was the best he could hope for, he decided regretfully.
‘Clear out, you lot,’ he announced casually.
It didn’t occur to Nick that his contemporaries wouldn’t follow his instructions. He didn’t even glance around to see them leave. Eve found herself envying her sibling’s casual ability to inspire obedience.
‘What’s going on here?’
‘Nick, isn’t it?’ Drew Cummings looked at the tall dark boy with a frown of recognition. ‘Did you have anything to do with this little initiation ceremony?’
‘You all right, Eve?’ Nick said anxiously, ignoring the older man. She looked a bit fraught. Eve took everything so seriously. She really should lighten up, he decided disapprovingly, but he’d never have asked for her help if he’d known it was going to upset her like this.
‘Does it look like I’m all right?’ All right? Eve bit back a hysterical giggle that rose inappropriately to her tight throat. ‘Will you sort this out—now, Nick?’ Her soft, attractive voice rose a quavering octave.
‘You know this girl, then?’ Drew was looking from brother to sister with hard suspicion. Conspiracy theories began to solidify suspiciously in his head.
‘Of course I know her. She’s my sister.’
‘Do you get your kid brother to pimp for you often, angel?’
A gasp that came from somewhere was loud in the pregnant silence. Eve turned her head and had the brief impression of scalding scorn in those impossibly blue eyes. When Nick’s plans went wrong they did so thoroughly, but this present situation was in league of its own.
Let him sort it out. She was out of here. Her first faltering steps turned into a sprint hampered only by the ridiculous heels. She knew her tears were only the irritating outward display of sheer, inarticulate fury, but she wasn’t going to let this monster see them and think otherwise.
The door she’d been hammering on for almost the past five minutes finally swung open. Eve watched Theo’s expression change from initial lack of recognition to open-mouthed shock.
‘Say a word and you’re dead,’ she promised him venomously, just as the grin was beginning to form. ‘I forgot my key.’
The grin was swiftly deleted. ‘New look, Evie?’ He gave an appreciative leer.
‘If we’re talking make-overs…?’ She allowed her eyes to run speakingly over the tall, rangy figure of her lodger. ‘Do the words ‘‘ageing hippie’’ strike a chord?’ Head high, slender back ramrod-stiff, she stalked up the stairs trying to ignore the sounds of inexpertly muffled laughter. ‘I’ve had a very bad day!’ she yelled in warning over her shoulder.
The carpet beneath her feet was beginning to get thread-worn. It wasn’t the only thing in the big Victorian house that needed replacing—a circumstance that sometimes kept her awake late at night. When her parents had died five years earlier the first thing the solicitors had suggested was putting the rambling old building on the market.
But how could she have wrenched her thirteen-year-old brother away from the only home he’d ever known? He’d already lost his parents, and if they’d moved house he’d have had to change school too. She’d known there wouldn’t be enough left after the debts were settled to buy a place in the same area. Their parents had had many admirable qualities, but a knack with money had not been one of them. Eve had been fiercely determined that no matter what happened Nick wouldn’t suffer—he’d have all the advantages, bar loving parents, that she had had.
When she’d told the solicitors about her idea they’d regarded her with the sort of superior scorn that some people reserve for teenagers.
Impractical, they’d said. Not economically viable. Well, they’d been wrong, she thought with satisfaction. Five years on and Theo was their only long-term lodger, and, with a few exceptions, they’d been lucky with the succession of people who’d rented the other two rooms in the ugly Victorian monstrosity she’d always called home.
Right now they had a lady librarian in her early thirties and a postgraduate engineering student in his twenties as well as Theo, whom they’d known since they were children. She didn’t actually know at what point she and Nick had accepted him as extended family.
Eve had asked Theo
