After making the coffee, Eva carried the tray into the library and placed it on a central table. Sitting on the nearest chair, she lifted the coffee pot and poured, savoring the aroma. “Do you take sugar and cream, Mr. Lutchenko?”
He stood by the window, angling a framed photo to the light. Bushy brows were tightly knit and his mouth was a mere slash between beard and moustache. He nodded and turned a sharp gaze on her. “Black only, thank you. This very pretty picture. Is this your necklace in painting?”
“Good gracious, no.”
“But you wear emerald necklace in photo?”
“Inherited from my mother. It’s just a single emerald, nothing like the splendor of the piece in the painting. Nobody knows where that one is or if it even still exists as a complete piece. A photographer from one of the New Orleans papers asked me to pose for a photo.”
“Is very beautiful picture.” He replaced the frame and took the cup she offered. “You want I should start today? You have maybe twenty-five thousand plants to harvest in next field and field hands need strong man to supervise. Me. I help you.”
She picked up her cup. Coffee slopped into the saucer. It seemed the confrontation with Amoka had shaken her up more than she realized. “Indeed they do and thanks again. You arrived just in time.”
“I came immediately. You have place for me to sleep? Is there room behind sheds, maybe?”
Stefan Lutchenko was her black-bearded angel. Having this man who had already faced down the picker nearby might be useful. “There is a room off the back shed that you’re welcome to have. You can move into it this evening.”
Chapter Six
Luc bounded up the steps of Eva’s house. Despite his best intentions, he couldn’t wait another day to see her. The deadline for the Tourism Board contract loomed and she had rejected his offer to buy. But she had not denied the attraction that simmered between them. The cool English rose hadn’t been able to disguise her response to him.
He would use Seb’s progress to justify his visit. It was high time she received a personal report from the boss. The boy had proven to be a good worker and a quick learner, although he was evasive when Luc enquired about his aunt.
Will she be wearing those shorts again today? His groin tightened in anticipation as he relived the moments holding her in his arms. The memory had fueled several lusty dreams and a number of cold showers. After he concluded the purchase of her property, which he would now that Jack had confirmed the location of her pirate ancestor’s land, an affair with the delectable Eva would be very pleasant. Convincing her to agree was just a matter of finding the right button to press.
Luc knocked on the screen door, took his hat off, and ran a hand over his hair.
Eva appeared on the other side of the screen. She wore a pair of blue shorts and a blouse knotted below her breasts. The knot nestled below a valley he’d have given anything to dive into and left a band of soft skin bare above her shorts. He sucked in a lungful of air as his good manners headed south, along with every spare ounce of blood. He grinned at her. “Hi there.”
Arms folded, Eva made no move to open the door.
Fiddling with the brim of his hat, he kept his eyes on her face and not on the luscious curve of hip and sweep of thigh. Or the creamy swell of breasts in the V of her blouse. His groin had taken control of his brain. He grabbed the first opening gambit he thought of. “How’ve you settled in? Got everything you need?”
“What are you doing here, Mr. Martineau?”
He’d been so besotted seeing her in another pair of cute shorts that showed off plenty of leg he’d missed her chilly tones and the lack of warmth in her eyes. Like a bucket of cold water, her frosty reception finally hit him. Was she unhappy because Seb had spent so much time working on his bike at Luc’s? “Mister Martineau? What happened to Luc?”
She shrugged. “I couldn’t say where he’s gone.”
Something had definitely riled her and he needed to sort it out. “May I come in? I thought you’d like to know how Seb’s doing and I’ve good news about your search.”
She stiffened, then pressed her lips together and opened the screen door. “There is something I want to ask you.”
Her tone would freeze beer but before he could ask what the problem was, she turned on her heel and marched down the hall to the library.
Eva hadn’t struck him as the mercurial type but today there was no hint of warmth or softness in her demeanor.
She gestured to the armchair. “Please take a seat.”
He sat and dropped his hat beside the chair. “I hope it hasn’t been too lonely for you without Seb?”
She moved behind the sofa and leaned on its back, her body straight and tense. Dark smudges he hadn’t noticed earlier highlighted her eyes. “Lonely doesn’t come into it. I’ve had my hands full until this morning.”
He sat back and observed her. Ah, that’s what’s wrong; she’s tired and overworked without Seb’s help. Confident he now had a handle on what had upset her, he launched into his progress report. “He’s fitting in well. He’s a hard worker and the other boys love helping him with his bike in the evenings. I’m glad you decided to loosen the reins. That bike means a lot to him.”
Her gaze pinned him. “The bike, he can keep. What I will not tolerate is you attempting to insinuate your way into our plantation, either by trickery or manipulating a vulnerable young man.”
A full-on verbal assault was the last reaction he expected from Eva. Confused, he rose and moved towards her. “Whoa, there. What are you talking about? What manipulation and trickery?”
“Did you think I’d accept you encouraging Seb to defy me?”
He raced through his memory of conversations with the boy over the past few days. Nothing that could be called manipulation in anyone’s book. “What has he done? I’ll speak to him if he’s causing you problems but I haven’t encouraged him in anything other than hard work. Look, what’s this about?”
She relaxed her fierce grip on the back of the sofa and tipped her head to the side. “My note explained our situation. I thought it was perfectly clear.”
“I haven’t received any note. What situation? What’s changed?”
“You didn’t get my note?” A hint of uncertainty crept into her voice but suspicion lingered in the narrow-eyed look she cast him. “We can’t pay for your help so I forbade Seb to accept anything more than basic instruction. I will find a way to pay you for that too once—”
He held up a hand to stem her flow of words. “Why? What brought this on?”
“Thankfully Mr. Lyons put me straight. When were you going to tell me that you’d bid for this property?”
“Jack told you?” His friend must be really taken with Eva to have shafted him like that. But what had he told her? An offer on the land wasn’t that big a deal and she’d won the property.
“Yes, he did and it’s nice to know there are some gentlemen on the Island.” Haughty green eyes challenged him to disagree. Like Genevieve, Eva considered him not good enough. Not a gentleman and not wealthy enough to tempt even a down-on-her-luck heiress. Anger began a slow burn in his gut. As usual, it was always about money.
Luc’s last telephone conversation with Jack ran through his memory and he swallowed the retort that had sprung to his lips.
So much for client confidentiality. “Yes, I did offer to buy it from Benson. I thought you understood that from our chat when you asked if I’d consider an alternative to this place. And I’ll offer you the same amount right now if you want to sell.”
“Was that before or after his daughter refused your proposal?”
“Hell’s bells.” Heat ran up his neck and face as he clamped his jaw shut. Knots formed in his stomach. “My personal life is none of your business.”
“Puts a different perspective on your offer.” She leaned forward, eyeing him as though he was a snake in her English garden. “I’m not a fool, nor some starry-eyed young thing without two thoughts to rub together.”
<
br /> “I never thought you a fool but whatever Jack told you, you’ve misunderstood.”
“He was quite clear. So, what are you going to do now? Propose to me? I’ll save you the effort. You’ll never get hold of my land through wooing me.”
“You’ve got it wrong, and you’re wrong about me.”
“And did I misunderstand the intent of that cleared track linking your bottom field with mine? That thin line of trees barely masks it.”
Damn. He’d jumped the gun giving Samuel the order to clear it the day he arrived home. The boys’ excitement at the purchase news had spurred their efforts and, by the time he’d called a halt, they were all but through to Eva’s land.
There was no point prolonging the visit. Eva was obviously not of a mind to sell to him today and perhaps not ever. But he wouldn’t let Seb suffer any fallout. Luc picked up his hat and moved to the door. “Don’t take it out on Seb because you can’t see what Jack is trying to do.”
“And that would be—?”
“Make brownie points with you. When you’ve accepted what compels him to behave that way, you know where to find me. Down the track, first house on the right. I’ll leave the offer on the table for one week. After that—”
“Don’t hold your breath waiting for me, Mr. Martineau.”
He slapped his hat on and strode out of the house. Lord, save me from all green-eyed women. And look out, Jack when I next meet you.
Two hours later, scrunched paper littered the floor around the bin, testimony of his latest attempt at reorganizing his finance to secure the contract. Why had he thought Eva was any different to Genevieve? He conceded she had a point about the track linking their properties—it looked premeditated and arrogant on his part—but how dare she look down her aristocratic nose at him? So much for the attraction he’d imagined at Tallship Bay. Women were all the same and he’d best not forget it.
***
Seb sat across the kitchen table, shovelling fruit pie into his mouth. “This is good,” he mumbled around a mouthful. He’d polished off two helpings of the main course and looked ready to do the same with dessert.
Eva picked half-heartedly at her food. All day, she’d debated what to do about Seb and the training he needed if he was to run their plantation one day.
Luc confused her. On the one hand, he was training Seb for free and had organized a picking team for her plantation. But the path cleared between their properties suggested an underhanded motive that gave his assistance a more self-serving interpretation. His desire for her property and the implications of his proposal to Benson’s daughter showed he was not to be trusted.
She pushed her plate away and interlaced her fingers. “I want to talk to you about Mr. Martineau.”
Seb’s spoon stopped halfway to his mouth and he looked at her as though she’d proposed sending him to the moon. “What about him?”
“Honestly, how long did you think you could get away with deceiving me?”
His spoon clattered into his bowl. “You know? How?”
“He came to tell me how well you’ve been doing and about your work on your bike. I must admit I was surprised when he showed up. Seems he didn’t receive the note I sent with you.”
Seb pushed away from the table, paced to the end of the dining room and spun around to face her. “It wasn’t fair setting me up with him and the boys then telling me I couldn’t use his workshop. He’s been great. And he offered his workshop for free, and Acky and Moe have been helping me and—”
She held up a hand to stem the flow of words. “I get the picture. You like it there, don’t you?”
He nodded.
“I need to know I can trust you, Seb. I won’t stop you from going to Luc’s workshop after work”—his eyes widened and a grin replaced the frown as she spoke—“but I have to be able to depend on you. Can I trust you to tell me everything from now on?”
Like a streak of lightning he raced around the table and folded her in a bear hug. Eva’s chin bumped against his shoulder and she looked up at her nephew. When had he grown so tall?
“I promise. Thanks. From now on, no goofing off and no secrets. I’m the man of the house and I’m going to make you proud of me. Just you wait and see.”
She stroked his cheek, feeling fuzz beneath her fingers. “I’m already proud of you.”
He shuffled his feet and pink colored his cheeks as he backed away. “I’ve got study to do. Better get on with it.”
“Study?” Since when had Seb enjoyed studying?
“Luc gave me one of his farming books. I’m supposed to read up on harvesting techniques.” He grabbed a handful of biscuits from the plate, tossed her a cheeky grin and ducked through the doorway.
Man of the house indeed. He was growing more like Phillip every day.
***
Eva woke with a start and sat up. Fragments of a nightmare swirled in her memory. Sheets tangled around her legs and strands of hair covered her eyes. With shaking hands, she swiped them clear and pushed the top sheet back. Heart thudding, she swung her legs over the side of her bed and stood. Moonlight flooded through the window, so bright she could almost read by its light. Was that what had woken her?
Fuzzy-headed, she padded to the kitchen for a drink of water. Enough light from the moon lit the room and she left the lights off. She filled her glass at the tap and drank deeply then carried the glass to the window. Silver and black shadows colored fields of spiky leaved plants beyond the palm grove. Closer to the house a movement caught her eye and a darker shadow slipped through the gap between two hibiscus bushes.
She lowered the glass and peered into the garden. Was there someone out there or was it a remnant of her disturbed sleep?
But she was sure it had looked like a man. The confrontation with Amoka sprang to mind and her muscles froze at the memory of the menace in his expression. All day it had never been far from her thoughts and now it appeared to have invaded her sleep.
Shivers ran down her spine and Eva wrapped her arms across her waist. She checked the lock on the kitchen window and back door and tiptoed down the hall. A floor board creaked under her foot and she winced. Several heartbeats later, she moistened her lips and moved on to the library.
A gentle breeze caressed her heated skin and teased her nose with the scent of white ginger. Curtains fluttered. The middle window was open.
She edged around several piles of books and stubbed a toe on the table leg. Biting back the cry that hovered on her lips, she felt for the switch of the lamp beside her and flicked it on. A tower of novels still leaned toward the bookcase and three piles of paper lay partially sorted from this morning’s half-hearted efforts.
As she crossed to the window, her foot slipped on a piece of paper. Face down on the wooden boards, half under a chair, lay the newspaper photo. As she picked it up, her hand brushed the flapping curtain and a whiff of stale smoke assailed her nose. She lifted the curtain and sniffed. There was no mistaking the odor.
Neither she nor Seb smoked, and the stink of stale smoke and unwashed clothes had almost made her gag when Amoka had crowded her.
Someone had been in here! Amoka?
Chest tight, she darted a glance into the shadowy corners, straining to hear if anyone was still outside. Her papers were of little value and even less interest to anyone other than Seb and her. There were several valuable collections of books waiting to be unpacked but the boxes were untouched. What had the intruder been looking for?
Eva raised her hand to rub her eyes. Faint smoke stench clung to her fingers. She shuddered and peered at the newspaper cutting. Had it simply blown onto the floor?
All she could recollect of her nightmare was an emerald necklace that grew larger and heavier around her neck until it dragged her down. Was the photo or the reference to the necklace important to someone? Had she missed something in the diary? Seb had come in, she’d shown him the sketch in Josephine’s diary, and they’d joked about finding the emerald necklace and getting rich. Then she’d s
hown him the photo. Diary—photo—she glanced at the side table where she’d placed Josephine’s book—
Where was Josephine’s diary? She dropped to her knees and peered under the chair.
“Who’s there? I know you’re there. Show yourself.” Deep-voiced, Seb sounded like a man.
Eva sat back on her heels then pushed to her feet. “Seb?”
Seb stood just inside the room, hair standing up in spikes, clutching his cricket bat. His mouth fell open as he looked at her. “Evie? What were you doing down there? I thought someone was in the house.”
“I think there was someone in here. That window was open and I found this on the floor below it. Oh, Seb, I think they’ve stolen Josephine’s diary. It was right here.” She held out the newspaper clipping and touched the side table as though the book might magically reappear.
Seb lowered the cricket bat and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck as embarrassment crossed his face. “The diary is in my room. I just wanted to see if Josephine left any clues about where she hid the necklace.”
“You’ve got it? In your bedroom?” Tears pricked her eyes and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Oh, thank goodness. I thought we’d lost it.”
Awkwardly, her nephew patted her back. “I’m sorry, Evie. Guess I got carried away with the idea of finding treasure. I should have asked you for permission.”
“Just as well you took it. Maybe that’s what the intruder wanted, though how anyone would know about it is beyond me. So, did you find any clues in the diary?”
Seb’s cheeks turned a fiery red and he avoided her eyes. “No.”
Eva drew in a deep breath, aware of what he’d been reading and completely out of her depth. What could a maiden aunt say about sex to her teenage nephew? “Perhaps we should retrieve it from your room and find a better hiding place?”
Chapter Seven
Quicker than the trip by road, the path to Luc’s home climbed steeply behind Eva’s house until it fell gradually on Luc’s side of the ridge, before meandering through a dense grove of palms and down past sloping fields.
Winning the Heiress' Heart Page 5