Eve could feel the resentment in Paul at the casually made remark as he stiffened at her side. And with just cause!
She shot the man called Adam a quelling glance, frowning her impatience as he blandly returned her gaze with feigned innocence.
‘Eve is perfectly able to——What on earth!’ Paul said in an astounded voice as the other man began to chuckle at his remark.
Eve understood Adam’s humour only too well, giving a pained wince as the chuckle became a full-throated laugh, causing more than a few people to look their way. Adam’s eyes were full of merriment as he chokingly excused himself when he couldn’t contain the humour, crossing the room to enter the garden through the open patio doors. The sound of his laughter could still be heard coming from outside, causing even more curious looks to be directed at Eve and Paul.
Eve’s face was bright red with embarrassment as Paul looked down at her with angry eyes; he hated having any unnecessary attention drawn to him.
But she couldn’t be held responsible for Adam’s spontaneous humour—at least, not through any deliberate intent on her part. And she very much doubted that Paul would appreciate the ‘Adam and Eve’ significance that had been the cause of the other man’s uncontrollable laughter.
‘What was all that about?’ Paul demanded through gritted teeth, the forced smile to his lips trying to claim that he saw nothing unusual in someone going off into peals of laughter after being spoken to!
She shook her head. ‘I think he must have had a little too much to drink.’ She tried to shrug off the embarrassing episode.
Paul gazed after the other man, his frown lightening slightly. ‘Perhaps,’ he murmured thoughtfully. ‘Yes, you’re probably right,’ he decided with brisk dismissal, turning back to her. ‘Who was he, anyway?’ he said irritably.
She shrugged, keeping her tone light. ‘I have no idea.’
The heavy frown returned. ‘You weren’t introduced?’
‘No,’ she admitted tightly, reluctantly. ‘And he didn’t chose to introduce himself either,’ she dismissed.
The name Adam couldn’t really be classed as an introduction, and the little else she did know about him—that Sophy O’Donnell had brought him here to meet a ‘legend’—wasn’t guaranteed to endear him to Paul. In fact, the opposite was true. Sophy was one of the least popular people with Paul at the moment.
‘Damned cheek of the man.’ He glared at the open french doors with narrowed eyes. ‘What did he want?’ His gaze returned assessingly to Eve.
Mainly to dissuade her from marrying Paul! And that conversation was laughable now; now that she was with Paul, that brief shiver of apprehension she had felt earlier was completely forgotten. ‘Nothing, really,’ she dismissed brightly, a glowing smile on her lips as she looked lovingly into Paul’s face. ‘I think he was just at a loose end, having come with a married couple.’ She deliberately omitted to mention which married couple it had been. ‘I can’t even remember what we talked about now,’ she assured.
Paul still looked stern. ‘You really shouldn’t engage in conversation with complete strangers, Eve.’ He shook his head reprovingly. ‘I’ve told you before, you’re too trusting.’
‘Darling,’ she placated tenderly, her hand resting lightly on his arm, ‘it was only small talk. And he did realise I was here with you,’ she reminded teasingly, pushing firmly from her mind the other man’s disparaging remarks. ‘Now, why don’t we start to enjoy this party?’
Together. The word popped into her mind without volition, and she frowned her irritation at letting the man Adam’s comments affect her enough to allow even one detrimental thought about Paul to disturb her in this way. Paul had his career to think about and, although she wasn’t really into parties herself, she respected the fact that functions like this were important to him. The man Adam just didn’t understand that, didn’t understand the nature of their relationship.
Paul dismissed the other man with effort, and they did begin to circulate together among the other guests.
But two of the people she and Paul did avoid during the next hour, as they moved among the chattering groups about the room, were Sophy and Patrick O’Donnell. If Paul saw the two couples were about to meet, then he neatly avoided it without being too obvious. And that suited Eve too, mainly because the man Adam was with the other couple for the majority of the evening, a fact Paul didn’t seem to have realised. Thank goodness!
But Sophy wasn’t about to take that sort of treatment all evening; she was much more forcefully direct than her amiably friendly husband, and Eve wasn’t at all surprised to see the beautiful redhead determinedly crossing the room towards them after an hour of being avoided in that way, Patrick resignedly following in her wake. To Eve’s relief, it was one of the occasions the man Adam had briefly wandered away from them. Probably in search of his living ‘legend’!
‘Eve, Paul——’ She gave the latter a brittle smile, standing almost as tall as him at five feet ten inches in her high-heeled shoes, her model-thin body shown to advantage in the black glittering evening dress. ‘I thought it was time we came over and said hello.’ The smile she bestowed on Eve was much warmer, even the cynicism that usually hardened her green eyes lessening momentarily as she looked at her. ‘Or did you intend the dodging game to continue all evening?’ Her eyes hardened once again as her gaze returned to Paul, her stance challenging.
Paul coldly met that gaze. ‘I don’t play games, Sophy,’ he bit out.
‘No,’ her red-painted mouth tightened, ‘you’re too damned arrogant for that. You——’
‘Darling,’ Patrick stepped in with his usual easy self-control, a tall, loose-limbed man with untidy dark hair, his casual appearance hiding a very great talent. Sophy was the businesswoman in their marriage-partnership, while Patrick was the experienced art dealer and collector.
On the surface they were an unlikely-looking couple—Sophy so worldly and cynical, Patrick bordering on the absent-minded genius—and yet their differing personalities complemented each other, softening Sophy’s more brittle nature, while Patrick’s love and admiration for his wife drew him more out into the world than he might otherwise have been.
Sophy glanced at her husband, and at his warning look she brushed off her irritation with a sigh, relaxing slightly. ‘Are you both having a good time?’ she enquired lightly.
‘Not bad, thanks,’ Paul answered for them stiltedly, completely unbending in his own resentment.
Green eyes flashed angrily. ‘I gather you haven’t reconsidered my suggestion about the showing at the gallery for the winter?’ she snapped, completely impervious to Patrick’s warning for caution now, her quick-fire temper getting the better of her in the face of Paul’s bloody-mindedness.
Paul returned her gaze coldly. ‘Have you?’
‘Come on, you two,’ Patrick interrupted lightly, shooting Eve an apologetic smile. ‘This is no place to be discussing business.’
Sophy continued to glare at Paul for several tension-filled seconds before slowly relaxing, putting her arm warmly through the crook of Patrick’s. ‘Sorry, Eve,’ she grimaced ruefully. ‘I’ll call you in the week, shall I, and the four of us can have dinner together one evening?’
Eve glanced up uncertainly at Paul, knowing by the remoteness of his expression that the suggestion didn’t please him at all. He and Sophy just didn’t get on; the other woman epitomised everything he disliked in a woman: independent even in marriage, totally self-confident in her own capabilities and, worst of all in his eyes, she was a businesswoman.
But Eve didn’t have it in her to be rude to the other couple. ‘That would be lovely,’ she awkwardly accepted.
Sophy couldn’t resist giving Paul a triumphant smile before turning away. ‘I’ll be in touch,’ she promised before moving off, Patrick talking to her quietly as they crossed the room.
‘Damned woman,’ Paul muttered, not caring whether or not the other couple were out of earshot. ‘I can’t stand pushy women who——’
‘Darling, we can’t avoid seeing them forever; Sophy is right about that,’ she cajoled.
His eyes narrowed with dislike. ‘They aren’t the only gallery in town.’
She gave him a reproving look. ‘They’re the best in their field,’ she reminded softly.
He gave a disgruntled snort. ‘We’ll see.’
Eve felt an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Sophy and Patrick were highly respected in the art world—by the artists themselves, other dealers, and buyers alike—and Paul had to realise the importance, without losing any of his stiff-backed pride, of remaining politely friendly with them, even if he chose not to make them his friends.
‘I have something I need to finish discussing with Dudley Graves before we leave,’ he informed her abruptly, before she could voice any of her misgivings.
Eve frowned her disappointment. ‘Oh, but——’
‘I shouldn’t be too long,’ he added dismissively, before walking away without a second glance.
It was just her luck—bad luck!—that Paul should have to leave her side just at a time when the man Adam was on his own a few feet away. Her attempt to put some distance between them was thwarted as she saw him make a determined move towards her.
‘I thought he was never going to leave—Eve,’ he murmured conspiratorially behind her when she hastily turned away.
Her mouth was set in disapproving lines as she turned back to face him. ‘I thought your complaint was that Paul left me alone too much?’ she derided drily, her brows arched mockingly.
Adam looked more rakish than ever, the gentle early summer breeze outside obviously having ruffled his dark blond hair, but only adding to his attraction in the process. ‘That was my first school of thought,’ he replied, coming to stand in front of her, effectively blocking out the rest of the room with his height and the width of his shoulders, shoulders that had no trouble at all filling out the jacket of the black evening suit he wore. ‘We both know what my second one was,’ he added tauntingly. ‘And I haven’t changed my mind about that one.’
Her impatience increased. ‘You have no idea what you’re talking about,’ she snapped, annoyed that an evening she had thought would at least be pleasantly enjoyable had turned into a complete farce.
‘OK.’ He held up his hands defensively. ‘Whatever you say. I don’t feel like arguing with you on the subject again just now, anyway.’
She looked at him curiously. ‘You aren’t enjoying the party?’
‘The party is just fine.’ He shrugged disinterestedly. ‘As parties go,’ he added in a bored voice. ‘But as far as meeting The Unicorn goes, it seems to have been a waste of my time.’ He sighed heavily.
The Unicorn. Eve had known the last time they spoke to which ‘legend’ he referred, of course, and in this case The Unicorn was an artist of ethereal beauty, who had come to the notice of the general public a little over three years ago, the paintings now collector’s pieces, every one worth thousands rather than hundreds. And what added to the interest in the artist was the anonymity of the signature at the bottom of all the paintings; very few people were actually in on the secret of the real identity of The Unicorn.
Obviously Adam had come to the party this evening intending to be added to their number. And Sophy had encouraged him to believe that could happen.
‘After wandering around myself for a while—which was how I first came to speak to you,’ he said drily, ‘I started to follow Sophy and Patrick around instead,’ he muttered, obviously far from happy. ‘No one they’ve talked to here could possibly be The Unicorn.’
Eve’s brows arched at his complete certainty. ‘No?’
‘No.’ Adam sighed, the laughter that had been so apparent in him earlier in the evening having faded as he became disillusioned as to his success in finding the person he had come here specifically to see.
‘You sound very certain,’ she prompted lightly, one of those privileged few who did know the identity of the artist, and their desire for privacy. She also knew that the artist was here at the party …
‘I am.’ Adam nodded firmly. ‘The Unicorn is someone who sees the world with a beauty and innocence it couldn’t hope to achieve; most of the people here can’t see past the end of their noses!’ he dismissed with unmistakable disgust.
Eve had to smile at his scorn for these people, who were, after all, just trying to enjoy themselves. ‘You could be completely wrong about your artist, you know. Maybe The Unicorn is someone who paints the world the way he has cynically decided other people would like to see it, not the way he really sees it.’ She couldn’t resist teasing him.
He didn’t look amused, more as if she had struck him. ‘It couldn’t be.’ He shook his head disbelievingly. ‘No,’ he said again, as if trying to convince himself, ‘I’ve dreamt of the moment I would meet The Unicorn …’ he added flatly, his frown pained.
‘You might not even like him if you met him,’ she frowned, moved by the intensity of his emotion; The Unicorn’s paintings obviously meant a lot to him. ‘You could be disillusioned,’ she said slowly. ‘Disappointed.’
‘I—I couldn’t be.’ Adam shook his head. ‘Artists paint from the heart, the soul,’ he insisted, the uncertainty still darkening his eyes.
She shrugged. ‘Some of them just paint for the money.’
‘Not The Unicorn.’ He sounded more firm.
Eve could see that, although she had shaken him slightly with the things she had said, his belief in the artist was complete.
‘You’re right,’ she told him softly. Annoying as this man had been to her all evening, she couldn’t bear for the disillusionment in his eyes to continue a moment longer. ‘The Unicorn doesn’t paint for the money.’
His expression instantly brightened, and he moved a step closer to her. ‘You know who he is!’ he pounced with restrained excitement.
Eve instantly regretted her lapse, looking around the room searchingly for Paul, panic welling up inside her; he would be most displeased if he knew she had revealed even this much to a complete stranger. Especially one that had already irritated him so much!
Narrowed brown eyes moved questioningly over the pale distress of her face, Adam’s head turning as he followed the direction of her frantic gaze.
His loud swallow could be clearly heard. ‘Hell, no …’ he groaned, as if in pain.
Eve turned back to him sharply. ‘What is it?’ she gasped nervously.
He had the look of someone who had just been punched in the stomach and was still reeling from the blow. ‘You were right,’ he said weakly. ‘It would have been better if I’d never tried to find out who The Unicorn was.’
She blinked, paling even more. ‘You know who it is?’ She swallowed hard.
He nodded. ‘And I’ve only spoken to the other man once, briefly, but I disliked him before I even met him,’ he said dully.
Eve continued to look at him frowningly for several dazed seconds before his complete meaning became clear to her. And then she realised that he thought Paul was The Unicorn.
When, in actual fact, she was …
CHAPTER TWO
‘DELICIOUSLY wicked of me, wasn’t it, darling?’ Sophy said with undisguised glee, her movements graceful as she strolled around Eve’s studio; the mid-afternoon sunshine, as it shone through the huge window overhead, highlighting the brightness of her hair. ‘I would have given anything to have seen Paul’s face when he rejoined you, and Adam asked him outright if he was The Unicorn!’
Eve hadn’t found it in the least amusing at the time, and she didn’t particularly find it so now; Paul had made his displeasure at being taken for the artist more than plain on several occasions since the incident. However, Adam couldn’t exactly be blamed for making the mistake; it had been generally accepted for some time that the artist had to be a man, and she had admitted to knowing the artist.
She grimaced now. ‘You should have seen Adam’s face when Paul replied, “Good heavens, no!” and walked off.’ Dragging
her along at his side!
Sophy made a face. ‘The trouble with Paul is that he’s a damned snob.’
Eve gave a rueful smile, having long ago given up trying to curb Sophy’s acid tongue where Paul was concerned; simply ignoring her where possible. ‘He’s a respectable lawyer who likes to be thought of as such,’ she corrected chidingly.
The other woman shrugged. ‘As I said, he’s a damned snob. The mistake wouldn’t have been made at all if he wasn’t so damned adamant about keeping your identity a secret,’ she added disgustedly, her make-up as perfect in the clear light of day as it had been at the party two evenings ago.
Eve sighed, having heard the argument many times before, from both sides. ‘Sophy——’
‘I wouldn’t mind,’ the other woman continued angrily. ‘But he isn’t at all averse to using the money you earn from your paintings to help further his political ambitions.’
Sophy was the daughter of an old friend of Eve’s grandmother, and it had been through her grandmother’s urgings that Eve had finally shown the other woman some of her paintings four years ago. Sophy, in her usual fashion, had turned out to be abrasively honest about her work. But her criticism of Eve’s work then had been justified, and it was because of that honesty, and the faith Sophy had had that she could be a great artist, that she had been able to have her first small exhibition almost a year later.
Her criticism of Paul, Eve felt less able to accept without demur.
‘We’re going to be married, Sophy,’ she reminded stiffly. ‘It’s only natural that I should want to help further my husband’s career.’
Sophy gave a disgusted snort. ‘It isn’t natural for him to be ashamed of your success to the point where he doesn’t like people to know you’re The Unicorn!’
Warm colour darkened Eve’s cheeks. ‘He isn’t ashamed of my success,’ she defended stiltedly. ‘He’s just trying to protect me.’
‘From what?’ the other woman challenged, her beautiful head thrown back.
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