“You knock,” he told Levi, standing back. “I need a moment to summon up my kind and gentle side.”
“Summon away.” Levi took a moment. “Eve might not be home. Or, you could be wrong about her intentions.”
“Only one way to find out,” Dylan said as he concentrated taking in long, calming breaths and breathing out his anger.
“No peephole. Good for us, bad for her.” Levi’s expression darkened with concern. “She needs a peephole. Two strange men knocking on a woman’s door in the middle of the night? What if our intentions were nefarious?”
“Find a hardware store in the morning.” Dylan pushed Levi out of the way. “All your yammering has calmed my temper. Plus, I noticed a doorbell.”
Dylan pushed the button and waited, running through his head what to say. The door opened, Eve on the other side. Though she looked frazzled and he saw a skittering of panic zip through her eyes, to her credit, she didn’t slam the door in his face. Instead, she looked at him as though he was the one at fault.
“What?” she asked, raising her chin.
For the first time, Dylan noticed the color of her eyes. The flecks of gold in a sea of gray seemed to glow. Bright with hate, he supposed. Good, he thought. He would rather deal with her anger than her tears.
Dylan could almost admire Eve’s brazen, fuck you, attitude. Almost. Unlike his brother whose bravado collapsed soon after he was caught doing something wrong, he had the impression that she was the kind of person who could fart in an elevator and convince the only other occupant that he was the one who passed gas.
Unfortunately for Eve, Dylan was neither gullible nor easily intimidated. And he sure as hell wasn’t in the mood to beat around the bush.
“If you planned to run, don’t,” he said, holding Eve’s gaze. “I have more money, more resources, and more power. I will find you.”
Eve blinked, the only sign his guess about her intentions were correct. He continued.
“If you think you can hide, just long enough for me to lose interest, think again. I won’t give up. Never.”
“He won’t,” Levi chimed in. “Professional athletes are relentless. To succeed, we have to be.”
Eve swallowed but didn’t back down. Again, Dylan gave her credit. She was foolish, but she had balls.
“Careful. Your chin is a tempting target,” Dylan warned. “One day you might meet the kind of man who doesn’t think twice about hitting a woman.”
“What makes you think I haven’t already met him?”
Eve’s words were delivered in such a calm manner that Dylan felt his stomach clench. He knew from his research that she was twenty-seven-years old—twenty-eight next month. In less than three decades of life, what had she seen, what kind of experiences had she lived through, that allowed her to seem so matter of fact about something so unspeakable?
Dylan wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
“I won’t come in. Not tonight.” Remembering the long hours Eve spent on her feet, Dylan cut her some slack. “You must be tired from working late. Tomorrow. Two o’clock. Sharp.”
Turning to leave, Dylan stopped. He looked over his shoulder, making certain he had Eve’s attention.
“Be here. Or else.”
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CHAPTER TWO
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“BE HERE. OR else.” Eve sneered the words into the mirror, mimicking Dylan’s voice. “Or what, jerk face?”
Eve slowly curled her fingers into a fist. Afraid she might break her hand if she punched the wall—and lose her security deposit—she relaxed her hand. Then, stomped the floor. Over and over again.
“Dance?”
“Ah, Petal.” Eve walked to where the little girl played with a set of soft, squishy building blocks. Kneeling, she smiled. “A man is coming to visit. I should warn you, he’s attractive.”
When the little girl blinked, Eve shrugged.
“Okay. He’s more than attractive. He’s too good looking for anyone’s good. A fact, I suspect, he knows all too well.
Eve wished she could tell Dylan Montgomery to go to hell. Too bad the pompous twit was right. She could run, but she couldn’t hide—especially with a small child.
Lack of money didn’t worry her; she knew how to stretch a dollar to the breaking point. What Dylan Montgomery had that she didn’t was the right connections. He knew people, who knew people, who could probably find a speck on the backside of a gnat if they wanted to.
“Grow up to be a powerful woman, Petal. Otherwise, you’re screwed.” Eve brushed a finger across the little girl’s cheek, amazed that any human being could be so sweet and innocent. “Forget what I said. Power corrupts. Grow up and find your happiness. If you want to raise goats in the Swiss Alps, I’ll support your dream. All the way.”
Eve checked her watch. One thirty. She looked around the furnished apartment and sighed. Though sparkling clean, everything from the faded sofa to the wobbly table and chairs was what most people would consider ready for the scrapheap.
Not that Eve was embarrassed by how she lived. Responsible for herself since she turned sixteen, she could say without equivocation that without ever asking for a handout, she always had a roof over her head and food in her belly.
However, Eve wasn’t without her pride, and the idea that Dylan Montgomery might look down his nose at her rankled more that she wanted to admit.
The clothes Eve wore might not contain designer labels, but she knew the difference between high-end fashion and bargain-basement specials when she saw them. From the top of his head to the tips of his polished boots, everything about Dylan practically screamed money.
While Eve took care of trimming her hair every few weeks, she imagined Dylan spent hundreds of dollars at an exclusive salon to get his glossy dark mane to appear messy chic.
Eve only bought clothing that was marked down to rock bottom prices. Dylan wore a jacket that cost more than her rent for an entire year. And when she thought about what he
