had proposed.
The kitchen doors made a swishing sound as they swung closed behind her. Eva stared blindly at the crisp white damask on the tables, the sparkle of crystal chandeliers and lavish clusters of white roses. She did not know why Kyle had the power to upset her so. It wasn’t as if she was immersed in the painful, oversentimental first love that had gripped her at age seventeen. It wasn’t as if she still wanted him.
As the wedding guests began to spill through the doors, she rummaged in her handbag, found and slipped on a pair of the most unflattering glasses she’d been able to buy. The lenses were fake, just plain glass, but the heavy, dark rims served to deflect the attention that her good looks usually attracted.
Fixing a smile on her face, she did a brisk circuit of the main reception room, which she and her assistant, Jacinta, had dressed earlier. Waiters were loading silver trays with flutes filled with extremely good champagne she had sourced from an organic vineyard. Trays of her favorite canapés from the five-star kitchen were lined up in the servery.
The reception was heartbreakingly gorgeous. Since it was supposed to have been her own, she had put a great deal of thought into every detail, no expense spared. The only consolation was that she would be very well paid. And, in three weeks’ time, if she was still unwed, she would be in desperate need of cash in order to retain her house and keep her business afloat.
The doors to the kitchens behind her swished open as guests began to seat themselves at tables. Jacinta Doyle, her sleekly efficient personal assistant, came to stand beside her, a folder in one hand. Jacinta gave her a look laden with sympathy but, tactfully, kept things businesslike. Halfway through a list of minor details, she stopped dead. “Who is that?”
An annoying hum of awareness Eva was desperate to ignore made her tense. Adjusting the glasses, which were too heavy for her nose, she frowned at the rapidly filling room. Her mood plummeted when she saw Kyle. “Who do you mean, exactly? There must be a hundred people in the room.”
“He is hot.” Jacinta, who was hooked into the sophisticated, very modern dating scene with a new man on her arm every week, clutched dramatically at her chest before pointing Kyle out just in case Eva hadn’t noticed him. “I’m in love.”
Irritation flared, instant and unreasoning. “I thought you were dating Geraldo someone-or-other.”
“Gerard. His visa ran out, and his money.” She shrugged. “He went back to France.”
Eva pretended to be absorbed in her own checklist of things to do. “Don’t let your heart beat faster over Kyle, because you’ll be wasting your time. He’s too old for you, and he’s not exactly a fun type.”
“How old?”
The irritation morphed into something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “Thirty,” she muttered shortly.
“I wouldn’t call that old. More...interesting.”
Something inside Eva snapped. “Forget Kyle Messena. He isn’t available.”
Jacinta sent her a glance laced with the kind of curiosity that informed Eva she hadn’t been able to keep the sharpness out of her voice. “Kyle Messena. I thought he looked familiar. Didn’t he lose his wife and child in some kind of terrorist attack overseas? But that was years ago.” She pointedly returned her gaze to Kyle, underlining the fact that she could look at him any time she liked, for as long as she liked.
Even more annoyed by the speculation on Jacinta’s face, as if she was actually considering making a play for Kyle, Eva consulted her watch. “We’re ten minutes behind schedule,” she said crisply. “You check the timing for service with the chef. I’m going to get a cold drink then have a word with the musicians. With any luck we’ll get out of here before midnight.”
With a last glance at Kyle, Jacinta closed the folder with a resigned snap. “No problem.”
But there was a problem, Eva thought bleakly. The kind of problem she had never imagined she would suffer from ever again. For reasons she did not understand, Jacinta’s interest in Kyle had evoked the kind of fierce, primitive response she had only ever experienced once before, years ago, when she’d heard that Kyle was dating someone else.
She needed to go somewhere quiet and give herself a stern talking-to, because somehow, she had allowed the unwanted attraction to Kyle to get out of hand, to the point that she was suddenly, burningly, crazily jealous about the last man she wanted in her life.
Kyle strolled to the bar, although if he were honest, the drive to get a cold beer over settling for the champagne being served had more to do with the fact that Eva was headed in that direction.
Eva’s expression chilled as he leaned on the bar next to her. The faint crease in her smooth brow as she sipped from a tall glass of what he guessed was sparkling water somehow made her look even more spectacularly gorgeous, despite the disfiguring glasses. It was a beauty he should have been accustomed to, yet it still made his stomach tighten and his attention sharpen in a completely male way.
She met his gaze briefly before looking away. An impression of defensiveness made him frown. Normally Eva was cool and distant, occasionally combative, but never defensive.
She placed the glass down on the counter with a small click. “I thought you had left.”
The unspoken words, now that you’d made sure I hadn’t secretly gotten married, seemed to hang in the air. Kyle shrugged and ordered a beer. “I decided to stick around. We still need to have a conversation.”
“If it’s about the terms of the will, forget it. I’ve read the fine print—”
“You’ve ignored the fine print.” She had certainly failed to notice that he was her primary marriage candidate.
The faint blush of color in her cheeks flared a little brighter, sharpening Kyle’s curiosity. Eva was behaving in a way that was distinctly odd. He was abruptly certain that something had happened, something had changed, although he had no idea what.
She sent him a breezy professional smile, but her whole demeanor was evasive. “If you don’t mind, I really do need to work.”
Usually, Eva was as direct and uncompromising as any man. The blush and the avoidance of eye contact didn’t fit, unless... His heart slammed against his chest, spinning him back to the long summer days they had spent on the beach as teenagers. For a split second he wondered that he had missed something so obvious. But he guessed he had been so absorbed with trying to control the desire that had come out of left field that he had failed to see that Eva was fighting the same battle.
She tried to sidestep him, but the bar area was now filling up with people, lining up for drinks. Feeling like a villain, but riveted by the discovery, he moved slightly, just enough to block her in. She stopped, a bare inch from brushing against his chest.
Kyle’s stomach tightened as he caught another whiff of Eva’s perfume. He knew he should leave her alone and let her get on with her job. But the desire to evoke a response, to make Eva admit that she wanted him, was too strong. “The whole point of Mario’s will was that he wanted you to marry someone who would actually care about you and who wasn’t in it for the money.”
