Elusive as the Unicorn

‘I might find the idea appealing.’ Marina couldn’t imagine just how much! ‘But grandmother might raise a few objections.’

‘Hm.’ Marina gave a grimace, knowing that, for all that their grandmother was easy-going most of the time, when she chose to be firm about something she made sure no one was left in any doubts about it. ‘Well, it was worth a try.’ She shrugged. ‘I have all evening and most of tomorrow to get to know Adam better, I suppose. See you later.’ She smiled brightly, bouncing out of the room, her face alight with the new male interest in her life.

Eve ruefully moved across the room to close the bedroom door her cousin had left open, noticing as she did so the slight sound of movement behind her door that connected to the adjoining bathroom. An image of a bare-chested Adam Gardener instantly sprang to mind, making her feel hot all over. Which was ridiculous; she had seen plenty of bare-chested men in her time, and none of them had affected her this way. Including Paul; the disloyal thought came into her mind unbidden. There was more to a relationship than sexual attraction, she told herself firmly. Much more.

Nevertheless, she could see that connecting bathroom they were to share was going to be a problem. It never had been before, but then, they didn’t usually have anyone staying in that other bedroom. Sleeping-over guests were very rare at Ashton House. They didn’t have that many guests at all, really, other than family and close friends.

Which reminded her of the fact that she had an even bigger problem than the connecting bathroom, where Adam Gardener was concerned!

Family and friends usually visited for the day or evening, which meant visitors had little reason to go up to the second floor of the house, let alone feel curious about what lay beyond the staircase that led to the third floor …

She already knew, from great personal experience, that one thing Adam Gardener didn’t lack was curiosity. Or the ability to forcefully voice it!

CHAPTER FIVE

‘IS THE bedroom I’m using the one Paul sleeps in when he stays overnight?’

Eve spun round at the provocative question.

She and Adam were the only two down for dinner so far, Marina obviously making the most of the time to make herself as glamorous as possible, their grandmother was slower than she used to be, and goodness knew what was delaying Sophy and Patrick. Eve wished now she hadn’t come downstairs so promptly.

She coolly met Adam’s mocking gaze. ‘Paul very rarely stays the night.’

‘But when he does?’ Adam persisted, just as attractive as the first time she had seen him, in a dark evening suit and snowy white shirt. If Marina had thought him handsome before, in the casual clothes of this afternoon, she was going to be bowled over when she saw him dressed like this!

As far as she could remember, there had never been occasion for Paul to need to stay the night here! ‘I don’t believe the sleeping arrangements of the man I intend to marry are any of your business,’ she bit out tersely.

Adam’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowed. ‘They are if they include you.’

She drew in a sharp breath at the possessiveness in his voice. ‘Adam——’

‘Yes—Eve?’ His gaze warmed caressingly as he stood much too close for comfort.

Eve swallowed hard, feeling herself grow warm all over at his proximity, moving sharply away as she felt herself falling under his spell. ‘Marina might be more open to this type of seduction than I am.’

‘How many times do I have to tell you this isn’t a seduction?’ Adam ground out harshly, the lazily charming man of the afternoon completely gone in his anger. ‘Good heavens, woman, do I look the type of man to go around discussing marriage and children with every woman I meet?’

His eyes glowed almost gold in his anger, and Eve had the impression from the tight control he had over himself that it was an emotion he rarely allowed himself to be pushed to. But he couldn’t be serious!

‘Eve,’ he took her unresisting hand and entwined his fingers with hers, ‘we have to talk.’ He shook his head impatiently. ‘Properly, I mean, not just these tormenting conversations where I advance and you instantly retreat. But just believe this, I don’t play games with other people’s emotions. Or my own.’

Eve could hear the pain behind those last words, searching the hard face before her for some sign of what had caused that ache in his voice. It had been someone he loved that had hurt him, of course. But recently, or was it years ago? That deep curiosity she had mentally accused him of earlier surfaced within herself, and she knew a burning need to know more about this man, his past life, his family, his …

‘—lovely tonight, Evelyn,’ Paul could be heard saying as he approached the drawing-room.

A moment of sheer panic possessed Eve. What was she doing, holding hands with Adam Gardener in this intimate way, on the verge of asking him to tell her about himself in a way he probably hadn’t confided in anyone for years, if ever? Paul had arrived, the man she loved.

Regret registered in Adam’s face before he slowly released her hand to slide his own into his trouser pocket, the two of them standing feet apart by the time Eve’s grandmother and Paul entered the room together, her grandmother thanking him for the compliment he had just paid her.

Paul came to an abrupt halt, his face a picture of hostility as he recognised the man standing across the room.

‘Darling, do you remember Mr Gardener?’ Eve hastily moved to his side, putting her arm through the crook of his as he looked at her blankly. ‘Grandmother invited Sophy and Patrick for the weekend, and Mr Gardener was their guest.’

That blank look disappeared from pale blue eyes, to be replaced by narrow-eyed speculation. ‘Sophy and Patrick …’ he murmured grimly, as if a number of questions had suddenly been answered. He eyed the other man coldly.

‘We met once before,’ Adam said smoothly as he held out the hand that wasn’t in his pocket and forced Paul to acknowledge it unless he wanted to cause a scene in front of Eve’s grandmother.

‘Last weekend.’ Paul nodded tersely after the briefest of handshakes. ‘I seem to remember you were slightly—unwell.’