Enticing Eve: Scandalous Secrets, Book 2

by Tracy Goodwin

  “Enough of this!” Eve commanded as she shoved herself away from the wall before proceeding down the hallway. She couldn’t second-guess herself now nor could she consider both men at present. First she must confront Colin. Then she would speak with her betrothed when he returned from his business in London.

  After acknowledging her butler with a nod, Eve watched as her grandmother’s sleek black carriage with their family’s crest pulled to a stop in front of their estate. By the time she ascended the steps and settled against the comfortable velvet, Eve’s pulse had slowed to its normal rhythm, and she was able to plot her upcoming confrontation.

  “Anger will not do,” she recited as the carriage lurched forward. “Don’t be emotional. Tell him you are over him and move on.”

  Yes, that sounded quite reasonable. Was it enough though? Colin wounded her. More specifically, he’d executed the one feat that he knew would inflict the most damage upon her and had splintered Eve’s heart into a million sharp shards, ensuring she would doubt every word he’d ever spoken to her.

  God forgive her. She wanted to ensure Colin MacAlistair knew what he discarded and that he spend every day of his life regretting it.

  Staring out the carriage window, tall oaks passed in a blur failing to command Eve’s attention. Instead, she caught sight of her ethereal reflection in the glass, guilt weighing heavily on her chest.

  “God forgive me for seeking vengeance,” Eve whispered with a jagged sigh as she rested her forehead against the sun-kissed pane of glass.

  The bright day outside her window was in stark contrast to that other Thursday. How many Thursdays had passed since that terrible day? How had the days evolved? In the same manner that she evolved, Eve supposed.

  Upon further consideration, her desperate thirst wasn’t for revenge. No, Eve had entered the realm of self-preservation. By forcing Colin to consider the woman he discarded and by inflicting even a modicum of the damage that he’d done to her, Eve was ensuring that she would survive his return.

  “He will suffer.” It was her solemn vow – three whispered words soaring through the swaying carriage. With them, her plan for revenge took flight.

  Could it truly be that simple?

  Leaning back against the worn velvet squabs of her family’s carriage, Eve traced the round gemstone of her betrothal ring with her forefinger. She was betrothed, yes, but that information wasn’t the most significant. Sure as the deafening rumble of thunder that rolls during a violent summer storm, Eve knew what would inflict the most pain upon Colin…

  Using the man to whom she was betrothed against him.

  The fact that Colin would see it as the ultimate betrayal made hers a brilliant plan, but it was also vengeful, almost too much so.

  Could she really be so heartless? It wasn’t as if Eve became betrothed to this particular man in a deliberate attempt to hurt Colin, yet his identity would injure Colin like nothing else.

  Eve studied her honey-colored topaz ring. She never received such a token from Colin; however, she still remembered his promise:

  I will purchase a flawless emerald for you, one as magnificent as your eyes – those same beautiful eyes in whose depths I will forever be lost.

  At the time, they were the most romantic words she had ever heard. Eve had since learned her lesson, had she not?

  Reaching into her reticule, Eve removed a small silver-plated mirror before flipping it open and staring at her reflection or, rather, what little of her reflection she could discern for the finish had worn off in the upper right-hand corner. After tucking a stray blonde tendril behind her ear, she snapped the mirror closed and held it in her gloved hand.

  The tarnished mirror represented what a fool she had been for Colin, selling her antique pearl encrusted compact to help pay the detective to find him. Just when Eve thought she’d reached the safety of shore, another wave of recollections rose to the surface reminding her how many items she had forfeited in the hopes of locating Colin. Reminding her of how lost she had been. Reminding her of the grief this man caused her. Making Eve feel as adrift as she did when she first realized that Colin didn’t wish to be found.

  Did Colin care? If his return was any indication, he cared not. After all, he returned to England without facing her.

  Just like his exit – a pattern Eve refused to ignore.

  An exasperated sigh escaped her lips as she shoved the mirror into her reticule then slumped against the cushions. Yes, Eve had learned her lesson. It was past time for Colin to learn his.

  Eve remained steadfast in her plan. She would make certain that Colin recognized what he had lost and would regret it until his dying day.

  * * *

  Colin sat behind an oversized mahogany desk in the library, signing his final page of correspondence when a knock at the door stirred him.

  “Enter,” he commanded, tossing his quill onto the blotter.

  “You have a visitor, sir,” Norris, his gray-haired butler, announced. The gaunt man crossed the room, offering Colin a card resting upon a small silver tray before adding, “The young woman is in the drawing room.”

  Glancing at the ivory clock beside him, Colin tapped his fingers against his desk. Visiting hours had just begun for heaven’s sake. With one final tap against the polished wood, Colin was reminded precisely how much he detested this particular custom.

  With no intention of hiding his mounting frustration, he grabbed the calling card. The name engraved in gold script stole his very breath –

  Miss Eve Weston.

  She had come to him! The knowledge caused Colin to stand upright with such force that his chair hit the wall behind him with a loud thud. Striding from his office posthaste, he raced down the carpeted corridor before allowing himself one brief moment to glance at his reflection in a gilded mirror resting on the wall.

  Colin had gone to great lengths to assimilate upon his return home. First, he purchased the finest garments money could buy. Astonishing what clothes will do for a man. The expensive garments cast him as a respectable Englishman – so much so that he barely recognized his own reflection. If it weren’t for the prominent scar across his upper lip, there would be no physical traces of the life he had lived or the pain he had endured.

  There were other scars, of course. His opulent garments hid those from view. Colin made certain of it.

  He straightened his cravat then pushed several strands of hair into place. Though he had cut his long, haphazard mane before returning to England, it still refused to remain in place. Some things would never change Colin contemplated as he proceeded towards his visitor, his faint footfalls barely audible above the rapid heartbeat pounding in his ears.

  Placing his hand on the cool brass knob, he paused, allowing himself time to straighten his shoulders and inhale a fortifying breath. He then opened the drawing room door as his eyes scanned the room for Eve, who he found standing in front of a tall bank of windows at the far wall, her countenance serene while her eyes remained fixed upon something outside.

  The sight stopped him dead in his tracks.

  Bathed in glimmering sunlight, Eve was mesmerizing. Not because of her beauty, even though she was breathtaking, but because of the pure joy that swelled in his chest at the mere sight of her.

  Colin often recalled that her hair possessed the shimmer of spun gold. Today, he noted darker highlights the color of warm honey accentuating her wavy locks. His lips curled into a smile. It was such a slight change but enough to seize his very breath.

  Eve must have heard him enter for she turned, her eyes scrutinizing him. Certain that she would see through his façade, he squeezed the knob tighter in an effort to compose himself then did what he knew would protect his image – met her intense inspection with his own.

  Several stray tendrils framed her face, and what a divine face it was. Her creamy complexion was enhanced by cheeks the hue of the pale pink petals that adorned her hair while her heart-shaped lips were fuller than he remembered, forming a beguiling pout. H
e longed to discover if it was intentional or instinctive. Colin sensed the latter and found the prospect utterly enchanting.

  Her eyes locked with his, and a flash of excitement surged through him as he stared into the depths of eyes the hue of two flawless emeralds glinting with mischievous sparks.

  Colin bowed before crossing the room in several swift strides. He then took Eve’s gloved hand in his, noting her sharp intake of breath. Did Eve feel the impact of that gesture? Did she experience the same surge of excitement that sent shock waves throughout his body? She must have. Colin was certain of it as he kissed the soft fabric then held her hand several moments longer than proper, rubbing it idly with his thumb.

  Not certain of what to say or where to begin, he enunciated the first thought that came to his mind. “It is good to see you, Eve.”

  Never before in the history of civilization has such an understatement been uttered.

  The corners of Eve’s lips curled into an alluring smile as she withdrew her hand from his grasp. She then began to unbutton her gloves, gracefully tugging one finger at a time.

  A sudden urge to reach for her hand surged within Colin, his fingers itching to feel the softness of her bare flesh. He was certain that she would feel like heaven as a sharp and unexpected pain radiated from his cheek.

  “Ouch!” He stumbled backwards, realizing too late that Eve had slapped him.

  Not quite the heaven he had envisioned nor the reaction he had hoped to receive.

  “What in bloody hell was that for?” he demanded, rubbing his cheek, which was now throbbing from the force of the impact.

  Her eyes flashed with fury. “That was for lying to me,” Eve pointed her finger at him, wagging it with each word. “That was for promising to return to me when you never had any intention of doing so.”

  “I did plan to return,” his response sounded unconvincing, even to his ears. He searched her jade eyes for a sign, any glimmer of hope that she believed him to be sincere. Her scorching stare was proof that she remained unconvinced. “I did return to you. I’m here.” He winked at her, offering a dazzling smile.

  In response, she folded her arms across her chest, drawing attention to the creamy flesh above her bodice. Her gown accentuated all of her luscious curves he noted, as a wave of desire surged within him.

  “Your charm won’t work on me,” Eve grinned.

  Hers was most definitely working on him. Colin shook his head in an attempt to gather his wits. “I’m sorry,” his voice was unusually raspy. “You were saying?

  “Where did I leave off?” Eve turned then paced the length of the room, her hips swaying to and fro, her petite waist accentuated by full skirts that rustled with each step. Colin suspected that this was a deliberate action meant to torture him by drawing his attention to her divine figure.

  Her attempt was successful.

  “Oh, yes, now I remember!” She said, rounding on him with force. “You are a liar. If you planned to return, you would, at the very least, have sent word to me. Must I remind you that I am all too familiar with your missives, Mister MacAlistair, as you chose that cowardly form of communication to say goodbye?”

  It was as if she slapped him for a second time. He deserved the scathing rebuff. Colin knew he did though the venom dripping from her every word stung him even more than her physical blow mere moments before.

  Colin’s gaze held hers, and he noted just how drastically Eve’s expression had changed from the mischievous glint he had first observed. Her eyes were now alight with a combination of rage and abhorrence. The transformation sent a shock of alarm through his body.

  Could she truly detest him so?

  He expected anger, that he could manage. However, hatred was a powerful force – one in which Colin was well versed. He despised Lachlan MacAlistair beyond reason, and it was Colin’s rage that propelled him, his loathing that consumed him. Dark and dangerous, those emotions led him down a treacherous path.

  No, he knew from first-hand experience that there was a fine line between rage and loathing. Once crossed, it was difficult to turn back. He must reach Eve before it was too late. It was Colin’s only consideration as he bridged the distance between them.

  Eve’s chest began to rise and fall, her breathing labored as if in response to his close proximity. He reached for her waist, noting that the creamy flesh above her bosom swelled then … nothing. All motion ceased.

  She held her breath, he realized.

  His touch affected her. It was a fleeting gesture. One that she tried to disguise by pulling away from him then busying herself by placing her gloves in her reticule. But, such efforts were in vain. Colin had noticed her reaction, and he recognized the vulnerability hiding behind her incensed façade.

  “I regret hurting you,” Colin’s tone was tender, meant to convey just how sincere his statement was.

  She clucked her tongue, clearly unconvinced.

  “I swear to you, I planned to return.” He paused before adding, “I never intended to hurt you.”

  A throaty chuckle escaped Eve’s lips as she smoothed her skirts, drawing his attention to the colorful flowers embroidered on her pale pink silk. She traced one of the blooms with her patrician forefinger as she laughed louder.

  Colin failed to understand what she found so amusing.

  “It is the truth,” he assured her, wishing she would look at him. Instead, she turned towards the door.

  Assessing her exit route, perhaps?

  “You never intended to hurt me?” Eve met Colin’s gaze. Her terse jaw and accusatory tone conveyed that her question was more of a statement, so he chose to remain silent.

  From the corner of his eye, Colin noticed a blur approaching and grabbed Eve’s hand seconds before impact. “What has gotten into you woman?” he demanded, crushing her against his length.

  Eve writhed, her nails digging into his flesh as she attempted to free herself from his grip. “What did you think would happen when you vanished? And why, if you never meant to cause me pain, did you refuse to send word to me? Not one word. Not even a message to let me know you were alive.”

  He pulled her closer, resting his chin against the crook of Eve’s neck. It was the closest he’d been to her in ages and he reveled in her nearness, her warmth, her scent. “Eve, please allow me to explain,” Colin pleaded.

  Eve’s hair was the sweet fragrance of roses causing him to wonder if her intention when dressing was to fill his senses by resembling a rose in both sight and scent.

  His fingertips traced a path up her spine, noting with a sense of satisfaction that when he reached the bare flesh of her neck, her skin quivered under his gentle touch. “Just allow me to explain—”

  “It’s too late for explanations,” Eve insisted, shoving him away with more strength than he expected. The expression in her eyes conveyed that their proximity had unnerved her, as did her voice, which was now shaky. “I spent two years waiting and hoping. No, I dare say the time for explanations is long gone, Colin.”

  Two years.

  Her words hovered heavy in the air as his blood turned to ice. He’d been gone for three.

  His intelligence warned him of her betrothal. For the first time, Colin wondered if he was too late.

  Had Eve already wed?

  Just when he thought himself immune, fear – that damned emotion he had grown to loathe – coiled within his abdomen, the knot tightening until he could barely breathe. Colin grabbed her hand, turning it over then studying her amber colored betrothal ring.

  “You’re betrothed, not married,” he muttered, stating what he knew to be fact. His reports said nothing of a wedding and his source was reliable. Though he trusted his informant, panic caused Colin’s certainty to falter.

  His plan to win Eve’s heart could only proceed if she were merely betrothed to someone else. At the very least, he would stand a chance.

  When she failed to confirm or deny his statement, he continued, “Tell me if you are you married, Eve.”

&nb
sp; “Not yet,” Eve answered as she yanked her hand free from his grasp then stepped away from him, creating several feet of distance between them.

  The distance was good. Eve needed it. For whenever Colin was near, her traitorous body reacted in a rush of heat and an intensity that startled her.

  Why did this man and his touch still affect her?

  Well aware that her hastily arranged plan to show no emotion had gone straight to hell, Eve struggled to remember the rest of her plan for vengeance.

  He means nothing to you, she silently reminded herself. He abandoned you. Make him suffer.

  Why couldn’t she go through with it?

  Could it be his sincere words and intense gaze? Or perhaps the reason stemmed from his drastic change in appearance. The man standing before her was not the same Colin MacAlistair that she remembered. No, this man exuded more power than she remembered. Like a shock to her system, his raw strength and unbridled masculinity jarred her.

  Perhaps it was his bronze skin? She had never before seen him so tanned. Eve studied the stray lock of ebony hair that hung haphazardly above his brow, and for the first time she noted that it was peppered with a few opalescent strands. Her eyes roved his chiseled jaw and deep dimples, which were familiar though more exaggerated than before. Then there was the silver scar now deeply etched above his upper lip.

  What happened to him?

  In spite of his mysterious scar, Eve witnessed the most obvious transformation in his eyes. Still the cobalt of the ocean, they now held an intensity the likes of which she had never before witnessed and a haunted expression – one she couldn’t quite comprehend.

  Eve’s attention was drawn to Colin’s broad shoulders and chest. His jacket and vest were made of the finest of linens, as were his ivory shirt and periwinkle silk cravat. In truth, he looked the part of a refined gentleman, but as she was well aware, looks could be deceiving.

  Averting her eyes, Eve silently reminded herself that the man standing before her was the same man who had broken her heart.

  Why the sudden urge to forestall her plan?