Chasing Eden

by Kristin Daniels

  Her flawless reputation for professionalism was on the line here. Could she risk damaging that, risk the possibility that her faithful clients might see these photos, come to their own conclusions and view her as someone she truly wasn’t? Could she handle it if in the end, they thought the worst of her?

  Was she willing to risk all that for Shane?

  “Eden?”

  Torn between the ache in her heart and the unease in her mind, it took her a moment to answer. “I don’t know if I can do that,” she finally whispered into the receiver. “I just don’t know if I can.”

  Chapter Six

  Eden made a beeline straight for the minibar in her kitchen once she arrived home. Shane hadn’t been pleased with her answer, and had been even less thrilled when she’d told him not to come by the office for their scheduled appointment.

  “Eden, this is crazy. The media is part of my life—not a welcome one, but part of it regardless. We’ll ignore them. Soon enough they’ll get bored with us, you’ll see.”

  If only that were the problem. The paparazzi and media she could handle. It was her unwillingness to let her reputation be tarnished that had her pulling away now. If this were only about Shane, about the possibility of starting a relationship with him, she could easily put all the unpleasant aspects of his super-stardom out of her mind and deal with it.

  But that simply wasn’t the case. Not anymore.

  Her character, her control, could be crushed by this. By her one night—albeit her one amazing night—of self-indulgence. How could she overcome the internal guilt of something like that?

  She’d have to give up the CD cover, that was clear. And she wouldn’t be able to see him for a while either. Not with the way gossip columnists could hammer on and on with their speculative innuendos. Their made-up stories and lies alone would be enough to contaminate her precious reputation for self-control and the professionalism she had worked for years to build. She needed to put a little distance between them right now. Give it some time, let the dust settle.

  Still, the mere idea of not feeling his hands on her skin again, of not having his lips brush against hers or being able to laugh at his quick sense of humor left a gnawing hole inside her so deep and cold, she was afraid nothing would warm or fill it.

  But she had no other choice. Her business, her livelihood, had to come before any personal happiness she may crave.

  She uncorked a bottle of red, grabbed a wineglass and made her way to the veranda outside the kitchen door. Groaning, she curled both legs beneath her at the patio table, tired and beat to hell from the shitty turns the day had taken. With every sip she attempted to force from her mind the annoying crap bogging her down. She reveled in the quiet at first, but within moments a leery sense of vulnerability poked at the back of her imagination. Even though she lived in a private community, the events of today would make it difficult to ever trust being outdoors again.

  Well, at least this time I have all my clothes on.

  The thought held such creepiness it compelled her to scan the backyard. The area was small, closed in by an eight-foot-tall privacy fence, with large flowering bushes along the back edge and a decades-old lime tree in the corner. Certainly enough places for a determined photographer to hide, but the breeze was calm and nothing stirred within the leaves.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I’m being ridiculous.” Even so, she grabbed the bottle and her glass and headed back inside. As she stepped over the threshold, a booming rap at the front door shook the walls of the entryway and scared the living daylights out of her. Wine sloshed over the side of the glass when she jumped and landed in a red sodden plop on her favorite white silk blouse.

  “Perfect. Just fricking perfect.”

  A sudden uncharacteristic urge to throw the bottle across the room and bask in the weird satisfaction of shattering glass flashed through her. But she slammed down the compulsion, took control and instead calmly set the glass and bottle on the end table before storming to the front door.

  She peered through the peephole and froze when Shane’s dark eyes stared back from the other side. All those little tingles returned in a ferocious blaze, the familiar rush of heat between her thighs, the pounding of her heart. She couldn’t stop herself from turning the knob and opening the door.

  “Shane, what…”

  He pushed past her and his intense presence immediately consumed every ounce of air in the small foyer. God, she could barely breathe around him. He was so…big. So imposing.

  So damn perfect.

  “How did you find me?” As soon as she asked the question, she knew the answer. Ava. She fluttered a hand in front of her face and shot off toward the kitchen before he had a chance to say anything. “Never mind. I know how.”

  Shane followed her. “She’s worried about you.”

  She twisted the cap on a bottle of club soda and soaked a corner of the kitchen towel. “I’m fine,” she said, dabbing a little too roughly at the wine stain on her blouse.

  He moved quietly, so stealthy she barely heard him. Her body, however, responded to every step he took, every subtle movement he made.

  “Are you?” He stilled her hand and lifted her face with the gentle nudge of his thumb. “You don’t seem fine. Matter of fact, you seem anything but fine.”

  Damn it, he was doing it again. Burning her with his stare, making her lose control. She didn’t need that, not now. No, now she needed to keep every ounce of her rationale, do anything she could not to lose her edge. She straightened her shoulders and stepped back. “I am, trust me.”

  He dropped his hands and sighed. “Eden, it’ll go away. In a month, no one will even remember the pictures. Everyone’s attention will have moved on to the next big story. Some has-been starlet will be sucking up the limelight again, or an old freak-show child star will fuck something else up. It’s just the way it works.”

  “I know how it works. This entire town’s a rotating door of scandal and heartbreak.” She threw the towel by the sink, giving up on the stain. “But that’s not it, Shane. That part I can handle. It’s…”

  He stepped closer. “It’s what?”

  She studied his chocolate-brown eyes, his serene expression. She could easily fall in love with this man, and maybe a little bit of her already had.

  And didn’t that just figure?

  Never one to hold in her thoughts, the time had come to lay it all out on the table for him. She linked her fingers with his and led him into the living room.

  “Sit,” she said. He did, and pulled her down with him. When their knees touched, she shifted away. No distractions, she couldn’t handle that right now. This was going to be hard enough as it was.

  “Look, being in control is what I do, it’s who I am,” she began. “I grew up a veritable hell on wheels, drove my parents crazy on more than one occasion. Tenacious, they called me, but it goes beyond that, really. It’s not in my nature to stop before I get what I want, and I’ve never taken ‘no’ for an answer. I built Imagining Eden with that to back me up, worked my ass off for years to raise it to the level it’s at now.”

  Shane remained quiet—dubious, but quiet—so she continued.

  “I found out about the pictures of us through an email from a major competitor of mine. And I’m sure she got a double dose of thrill when she sent the nasty little message she penned right along with it.”

  Dawning crept over Shane’s face. “Eden…”

  She held up her hand. “If it had been only one message, I might’ve been able to set it aside, not taken it to heart. This particular woman has always been a pain in my ass, so I really shouldn’t have expected anything less from her. But it wasn’t just the one e-mail, Shane.”

  She’d received several more throughout the day, some not as vindictive, others even more so.

  He forked his fingers through his hair and pinned her with a stare. “So you think that if you’re with me, people may think less of you.” He said it as a statement, not a question.

&n
bsp; She swallowed, thankful that she didn’t have to come right out and say the words. “I’ve worked so hard. I just don’t know if I can let that part of me go.”

  “For me.” Another statement. When she gave a tentative nod, a quick anger burned through his eyes, flushed his face. He shot to his feet, paced in front of the fireplace. “That’s a crock of shit.”

  She stood along with him, her defenses rising at the same time. “What is?”

  He stopped, fisted his hands at his sides and drew in a deep breath. “Your reasoning. A total crock. If you think for one minute that being with me or designing a CD cover for my band will somehow tarnish what you’ve built—”

  What? He seriously wasn’t suggesting that it wouldn’t, not after those pictures?

  “It’s not about just designing a cover, Shane. It’s about the perception of how I got the job in the first place. But that doesn’t matter. I can’t—”

  He interrupted her with a chuckle, a sardonic sound that ate away at her temper. “You’re worried that people will think you fucked me to get a contract? Honey, this town is built on that very thing.”

  Okay, whoa.

  “Not by me! I’ve never dropped my guard like that, never once given anyone reason to believe I hadn’t earned—through hard work—every job I’ve ever done. But all that’s changed now. Because of one moment of weakness on my part, everything I’ve accomplished could be shot straight to hell.”

  He tightened his fists and the anger lines between his brows deepened. “A moment of weakness? Is that was this weekend was to you? What I was to you?”

  “No!” She blew out an exasperated breath and plopped back on the couch. God, she was fucking up the entire conversation. “That’s not—”

  “You told me what you wanted. I felt your need to let go, to let yourself loose. You asked me to show you everything you’d been missing, Eden.”

  And she’d meant every damn word. Their time together meant the world to her, more than that even. How could she make him believe that?

  Unshed tears blurred her vision and she softened her voice. “Only with you. Those words were only for my time alone with you. My work, it’s a different part of me.”

  He relaxed his stance a fraction and rubbed the back of his neck. An uneasy, quiet laughter rose from his throat and when he moved to sit next to her, she swore he breathed out a nasty curse. “And never the two shall meet? Is that how it is?”

  “It’s how it has to be.”

  He studied her then, his devilish eyes eating her up in a way only he could manage. Gently, he cupped her cheeks and swirled lazy circles on her skin. She nearly pulled away, everything in her told her she should, but she couldn’t. She wanted this one last touch, this final sear of his hands upon her skin.

  “There’s only one thing we can do then,” he whispered.

  She expected the kiss—the raw power of it, the fire that burned between them whenever they came together. What she didn’t expect, what floored her more than anything, was what he said afterward.

  “Baby, I’m sorry, but you’re fired.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Excuse me?” Even though she had every intention of breaking their verbal agreement, him actually out-and-out firing her had her seeing red. She was this close to taking a step back and reconsidering her decision just for spite. Nobody had ever fired her, not even the grumpy owner of the little diner where she worked when she was sixteen. And he’d had every reason to. Eden had mopped up the vat of grease she accidentally spilled for what seemed like a week straight, but he still hadn’t let her go.

  “You said so yourself, it’s how it has to be.”

  She pulled back from Shane’s touch and jumped to her feet. “And to throw your words back at you—that’s a crock of shit.”

  He sucked in a deep breath and rested his forearms on his thighs. “What is it you want then, Eden? Me and what I know we’re both feeling for each other? Or your name in the corner of a CD cover printed so tiny no one can see it?”

  Ouch.

  “Don’t belittle what I do.”

  “I would never do that.” He rubbed his palms up his face and pushed his fingers through his hair. “I love everything about what you do. You’re exceptionally talented. I’m just trying to understand. I know your company is important to you, but…”

  Something inside her shifted, gave way as if a tightly wound coil had sprung free. And he’d noticed—of that she was sure.

  Just the idea of someone firing her, the tiniest hint of insinuation that she wasn’t good enough to do a job—the reason why didn’t matter in her suddenly irrational mind—riled her so much she couldn’t think her way out of a paper bag. But even so, his ripple of perception, the instinctual way he picked up on that, rocked her to the core. He narrowed his eyes on her, examining her with such overwhelming intensity she actually stepped back. His obsidian glare bore past every one of her barriers and delved deep into her soul—so deep, so much further inside her than anyone else had ever been. A stabbing pain pierced her heart, an ice pick of truth plunging through the steel walls of control she’d erected around it so many years ago.

  His eyes widened, he sat straighter.

  Oh hell.

  “Jesus, Eden. You’d do it, wouldn’t you? You’d toss away everything from the last two days—the way we connected, the absolute rightness—all to cling to your precious control. To prove to everyone around you that they’re wrong.”

  The words slammed into her with the force of a well-placed slap across the face. Oh heaven above. That’s exactly what she was doing.

  But she’d always done that. Always chosen her business and her reputation over any and everything that might possibly give her even an ounce of personal happiness. Dear God, she’d chosen that over what she could potentially have with this intense, passionate man standing in front of her.

  And all because of an insatiable need to control everything around her—along with what everyone thought of her.

  How incredibly pathetic that he never stood a chance. Not against her work, her company—or the sick idea that she actually had the ability to have power over what others thought of her.

  An aching hollow of awareness seeped through her mind. How in the hell had she lost sight of the integral part of her that so desperately craved the passion he was offering? Being in control was one thing, but when had she crossed over into irrational obsession?

  No other man made her feel like he did. No one had ever come close. And she’d give all that up because of potential rumors? Because of what others may think of her personally?

  “You’re right.” She stood there in front of him with a fist pressed to her stomach, circling the drain, closer and closer to losing everything. To losing him. “God, you’re right.”

  He covered her hands with his, pried her fingers from the fist and drew her toward him, securing her legs between his thighs. He kissed the back of her hand and the center of her palm before grasping her hips and nuzzling her stomach.

  She ran her fingers through his silky hair and choked back a threatening sob. “I don’t know what to say. I never meant to hurt you.”

  With a little lift at the edge of his lips, he gazed up at her then. “I know. And you haven’t hurt me.”

  A tear slid down her cheek. “I don’t know what to do.”

  He rose from the couch, held her hands in his and kissed the tear away. “Do what’s in your heart.”

  “It’s not so simple—”

  He pressed a finger to her lips and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt. Pulling back the edge, he revealed the tattoo over his left nipple. Blasdag. He looked down at it, then smiled at her. Every muscle in her body slackened.

  “Do you know what this means?”

  She lifted her hand, a little part inside her dying to trace the beautiful black letters, to brush her fingers over his inked skin. But she stopped a hairsbreadth away and shook her head. “No.”

  He slid his hand up her arm and
folded her fingers within his. Heat spiraled inside her as he kissed each one in turn, then gently laid her palm over the tattoo. Over his heart.

  “This tattoo is for you. It means ‘sweet-mouthed woman’ in Gaelic. That’s what you are to me, love, what you’ve always been. The one woman who stole my soul with a single kiss, with the sweetest mouth.”

  She covered her lips with her free hand as tears flowed in hot waves. Oh God, she never knew. It all made sense now. Her secret yearning for someone just like him, his search for her.

  “Don’t throw us away, Eden. It’s taken so long for us to find each other. We get one shot at what we have between us, I truly believe that. Let’s do this right, make it all count.”

  A deep breath gushed from her lungs. “You can’t fire me, Shane.” Despite her tears, she laughed at the tinge of anger that lit his eyes. He had to think she was completely daft for saying something so heartless after he laid himself wide open for her.

  Laughter through tears. Who knew it could feel so good?

  She held up her hand. “You can’t fire me, you see, because I’d already planned to quit. But now? I’ve changed my mind.”

  The broad smile he blessed her with and his sultry, deep laughter smoothed every jagged edge inside her.

  “Thank God,” he breathed out.

  She threw herself in his arms and clung to him with everything she had, with everything she was. He kissed her hair, her shoulder as he held her tight, clutching her in return.

  “You know, in light of what’s sure to be the most creative union of my life, I feel obligated to offer you a signing bonus.”

  She reared back, brushed her fingers along his jaw. “Stop. That’s not necessary. I have everything I need right here. You.”

  He kissed her so mind-blowingly slow her toes curled, her breath caught, and for a second, she thought she might actually swoon.

  “Funny how things work out, then. That was going to be my offer. Hold on to your socks, baby. This’ll be one bonus you’ll never forget.”

  She honestly couldn’t think of anything sounding better.