‘Congratulations,’ one man muttered uncomfortably. The others mimicked their colleague like puppets that had just had their strings well and truly jerked.
‘Thank you,’ he murmured, while thinking Eve would have loved to be here to witness this. It placed the act she’d put on for her grandfather the day before yesterday right into the shade. ‘Be sure to make it a good whip-round for my wedding gift when the time comes.’
They should have laughed then—told him what a fool he was for getting caught after managing to stay single for all these years. But their expressions had now shifted to something else entirely.
What else? he puzzled. What exactly was now going on inside their heads while they stood there looking at him like that?
Then it hit him. Leona. His free fall through space stopped abruptly as cold anger erupted in his breast. Did everyone in San Estéban suspect his relationship with Leona had been something other than what it was?
Now he was glad that Eve wasn’t here to witness this scene, or every single suspicion she had about him and Leona would be buzzing around her possessive head.
Oh, but he liked Eve possessive; he liked her weepy and vulnerable and high-tempered and snappy; he liked her wearing hot-pink, like the dress she’d had on in the bar on the beach, and she’d had painted onto the nails she’d drawn down his chest last night.
Where the hell did he think he was going with this kind of crazy thinking? Crazy really said it. The last twenty-four hours in their entirety had been one long walk through insanity! But in those twenty-four hours, he realised he’d come to care a great deal what Eve thought about him.
‘So watch the snide remarks in her presence,’ he cautioned more seriously. ‘She’s special. I expect her to be treated as special. Make sure you pass the warning on.’
And if this performance didn’t convince them that he and Leona were not an item, then what would?
‘Right, Boss,’ they said in solemn unison.
As he left, Ethan wondered how long it would take for this juicy snippet of information to make it right round San Estéban?
Eve was standing in the sunny lounge holding a picture frame between trembling fingers when she heard Ethan return. She was trying to decide whether to be hurt, insulted or just plain angry. She’d certainly been hurt when she’d picked up this frame, and had found herself staring at the tableau it presented of a beautiful woman standing with—not one—but four incredibly spectacular looking men!
One of the men was Ethan. All of them looked ready and willing to worship at the woman’s feet. And why not? she acknowledged. The lady was really quite something special with her flowing red hair, exquisite face and the kind of smile that dropped men to their knees.
‘It was taken at Leona’s civil wedding in England,’ Ethan’s voice quietly informed her.
Looking up she saw him standing in the archway. The jacket to his suit had gone but the tie still rested neatly against his shirt front. As always, he looked heart-stoppingly attractive, even with that guarded look he was wearing on his face.
She looked away from him and back at the photograph. ‘She’s beautiful,’ she murmured huskily.
His answering smile was more like a grimace as he walked forward to glance down at the photograph. ‘Victor Frayne,’ he indicated with a long finger. ‘Leona, of course, and Sheikh Hassan Al-Qadim. The giant is Sheikh Hassan’s brother, Sheikh Rafiq Al-Qadim—though he refuses to acknowledge the title,’ he added grimacing.
‘Why?’
‘Long story. Remind me to tell it to you sometime—preferably before you meet him.’ Said with humour, there was nothing funny in the way he took the frame from her then stood frowning down at it before putting it back in its place.
‘Is there a chance that I’ll meet him?’ Eve was already stiffening her insides ready for the blow she thought was coming her way. If the Al-Qadim family were here in San Estéban…If they were staying in this same house then she was…
‘Not really,’ he murmured. ‘He goes nowhere without his brother, and his brother is cruising the Mediterranean as we speak.’
‘This is their villa, isn’t it?’ she stated.
Did he hear the accusation in her tone? If he did, his face didn’t show it as he turned with what Eve read as reluctance from the photo to look at her. ‘It’s the company villa,’ he corrected. ‘Victor designed it, Leona furnished it. We all use it as a convenient place to live when we are here in Spain.’
Convenient, just about said it for Eve, and her mind was suddenly tripping over itself as it painted lurid pictures in her head of Ethan and Leona in their convenient love-nest with dear Papa along as one lousy chaperone!
‘And where’s Leona now?’ she demanded.
‘With her husband on their yacht. Victor flew back to London yesterday, once he knew I was coming here to take over for him.’
‘So you thought, Why not bring Eve here and conveniently slot her in where Leona should be?’
Ethan’s eyes narrowed at her waspish tone. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’
‘It means,’ she lashed at him, ‘that I do not appreciate playing substitute to anyone!’
‘Substitute to who, exactly?’
He wanted her to spell it out for him. Well, she could do that! ‘Leona’s clothes hang in the wardrobe,’ she told him. ‘The next bedroom to yours as a matter of fact!’
‘It bothers you?’ he murmured.
‘It bothers me.’ She nodded. ‘It more than bothers me that you dared to bring me here to your sordid little love-nest and make love to me in the same bed in which you probably made love to her!’
His grey eyes narrowed some more and Eve was suddenly thinking about dangerous animals again, and felt the fizz of excitement leap inside.
She was trembling like mad, Ethan noticed, and he was angry! ‘A small piece of advice,’ he offered thinly. ‘Loose talk is
