and I curse his very presence, his very effect over me. But there’s a tightness to his voice, a flare to his eyes that he cannot hide, and I know he’s not immune to me—not any more. It gives me power and I feed on it.
‘It’s rude to attend a party without an invitation.’
He smiles, the movement small and soft—and, dammit, my insides quiver.
‘I’m used to being welcomed with open arms. Invited or not.’
I raise my brow, the idea of being close enough to embrace him not helping my focus.
It’s a figure of speech, idiot.
I cock my head, masking my unease. ‘Once upon a time that may have been true, but not here, not now, and not with me.’
‘Not with you, or not with your family, Evangeline?’
If I could melt to the floor I would. No one calls me Evangeline—no one. Unless they’re my parents. I am Eva—strong, dependable, Eva. A woman who has proved her worth a hundred times over.
But when he says it, the way he says it, it’s not like Mum and Dad do it. It doesn’t make me feel like a girl, weak and vulnerable. I feel empowered, worthy of so much, catapulted onto a pedestal and ready to be worshipped.
By him. At my feet.
Oh, yes.
I swallow, the bolt through my body jolting me straight.
It scares me. He scares me. And I know I need him gone—that no matter what I said to Dad I don’t dare to entertain him for longer than is necessary.
‘Cat got your tongue?’
‘No,’ I blurt.
‘So?’
I can see a pulse working in his jaw, and his eyes are intense as they watch and wait for my response.
‘Is it you or your family telling me I’m not welcome, Evangeline?’
‘Both.’ I say it and immediately regret it. It’s too personal, too unprofessional, but I can’t think clearly. Not with him so close.
‘Is that your way of asking me to leave?’
I sense nearby heads turning, ears tuning in.
Careful, Eva…
I’m losing myself in the fierce glint of her blue gaze, almost daring her to throw me out. There’s something about the fight in her that I want to provoke.
It’s so much easier than dealing with all the shit buried ten years deep.
‘No, Lucas, I’m not asking you to leave.’
She wets her lips. Again. And the red shines ever deeper, the carnal colour driving a string of sinful thoughts—none of which have a place in this room, with this audience.
Or fit with the reason you’re here.
It’s about business.
Not her.
Not…
A pulse flutters in her throat and she raises her hand, her red-tipped fingers circling over the delicate ripple. Christ, I want to do that—be the person with his fingers over that creamy skin.
I tighten my hold on the stem of the glass, slipping my other hand inside my pocket. Out of trouble.
‘Good.’ I tear my eyes away, looking towards the grand Christmas tree and the big screen that stands proud alongside it, streaming highlights of the product I’m here to secure. ‘Because I think we have a future together…in business.’
I suck the inside of my cheek.
In business? What the actual fuck? Do you want to make it any more obvious you want her in your bed too?
I hear her laugh, and the sound is as surprising as its effect, rippling through my body like an aftershock. I’d forgotten how she can do that—be it with a laugh, a smile or a song when she thinks no one’s listening.
‘Of course, Lucas. Of course in business. What else could you possibly be suggesting?’
She watches me over the rim of her glass, the depths of her eyes alive with suggestion, amusement, confidence. And it’s the confidence that’s my undoing. It’s new. To me, at least. Where there was once a questioning innocence there’s now the maturity of a woman who knows her own mind, her own desires.
And where do those desires lie now?
Ten years ago she made it obvious, but now…
Hell, most women desire me—it’s par for the course. My money and power attract all sorts, even without the body I work hard to hone.
But you don’t care about other women. You only care for her.
Cared—not care. Because that would be damn stupid.
Ten years ago she was forbidden. As the sister of my best friend, as the daughter of the closest thing I had to parents—real parents.
But, let’s face it, here I am now, her family’s worst nightmare, and all that loyalty no longer applies.
Just think what you can do with that.
I look her over, slowly, purposefully, and before I can hold back it’s out. ‘It wasn’t my intention—I came here tonight to secure a deal, to offer you a very lucrative contract… But now I find myself wanting a whole lot more.’
Her eyes widen and the glass quivers beneath her chin, not quite lowering but not quite lifting either. She’s shocked and I seize the advantage.
‘What’s it been, Evangeline—seven years?’
‘Six.’
She says it so certainly it makes me wonder. Has she counted it down to the exact day, the exact moment? Because I sure as hell have, despite my intentional miscalculation. And even then it had been a brief passing—a moment at the Beaumonts’ home before Nate and I flew out on business. But it’s ingrained in my memory. The sight of her with another man—her fiancé. Happy.
‘How is Peter?’
I don’t know why I even ask it. I can see she isn’t married—her bare finger gives that away. And there’s no reason for me to think he’s still on the scene, so why I need the added reassurance is beyond me.
‘I have no idea. We broke up not long after that night.’
My question hasn’t even jarred her, and that tells me enough. She remembers the occasion.
