Enticing Eve: Scandalous Secrets, Book 2

by Tracy Goodwin

  Could she be analyzing him in an attempt to rationalize his disappearance?

  As if sensing her inner turmoil, Colin added, “I meant every word I said to you – then and now.”

  His rich baritone brimmed with sincerity, causing Eve to remind herself just how proficient he had been at deceiving her. She refused to allow him to affect her so ever again, choosing instead to study him with icy reserve.

  “If that is true, then why did you fail to return let alone contact me? Were you physically incapable of doing so? Were you ill, Colin? Were you imprisoned? Or is it as I suspect – that you could have communicated with me at any time in the past three years but chose not to. Not even when you returned to town.”

  His expression was gentle, rich with understanding and – was it pity? Eve averted her eyes then took several steps away from Colin before studying a painting on the far wall. Her eyes roved the shades of light and shadow depicting a wooded landscape as a large lump formed in her throat. She swallowed hard against it, well aware that she was losing her hard-fought control as her anger alchemized into something much more damning … vulnerability. Clutching her reticule in a tight fist, she squeezed her eyes shut, silently despising herself for displaying such a weakness.

  Colin’s tall frame bridged the gap between them in two panther-like strides. He then reached for her arm, gently turning her to face him before encircling her in a tight embrace.

  Her conscience screamed that she should reject his advances yet her heart refused to obey. Instead, Eve leaned into him, pressing her cheek against his chest, reveling in the familiar scent of his cologne – woodsy with a hint of musk, just as she remembered it.

  At least one thing about him had not changed.

  His grip was strong, his cadence gentle. “I returned for you, Eve Weston. I planned on calling on you – today, in fact,” Colin said in a husky whisper as he stroked her back, each circular motion sending waves of heat through to her very core.

  This man was hypnotic.

  It was almost enough to make her forget.

  “Why are you behaving like this?” her eyes searched his.

  Colin’s unspoken feelings ran deep. Because I’ve thought of no one else for three long years. Because I’ve lived for you. Because I love you. Such thoughts had been his constant companions through each of his journeys to hell and beyond. Admitting them aloud, though … no, to do so would be the equivalent of falling on his sword and try as he might, Colin couldn’t find his voice to declare such love and devotion just yet.

  Instead, he caressed Eve’s cheek with his thumb. Her silken flesh trembled underneath his fingertips, and the reaction thrilled him.

  He yearned for more as he traced a path to her luscious lips. Eve closed her eyes, her long lashes casting shadows on her flawless features as she bent forward. Did she sense that he was about to kiss her?

  Her lips parted ever so slightly and a barely audible groan escaped her throat. Colin knew then that she wanted to kiss him. He could feel the passion emanating from her very essence.

  Colin’s lips were so close to hers that he could feel her warm breath fanning his face. Eve clutched the sleeve of his jacket as he brushed his lips against hers, her body shuddering in immediate response.

  “No,” Eve whispered, backing away from him, wringing her hands. “You left without one word and now you return after all this time acting as if …”

  “As if what?” he whispered. Try as he might, Colin did not understand. He sought the depths of her emerald eyes for an answer, noting that anxiety diluted with anguish had replaced her earlier rage and resentment.

  “As if you care,” Her voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes now brimming with unshed tears.

  His posture proud, his tone resolute, Colin responded, “I have always cared.”

  “No,” she shook her head. “If you did, you would never have forsaken me.”

  Eve turned on her heel. In response, Colin placed his hands on her shoulders, his soul savoring her sharp intake of breath at his touch.

  “My affection for you hasn’t changed,” he assured her.

  “If that is true, why didn’t you tell me earlier? Why didn’t you contact me?” she replied, her shrill tone causing warning bells to resonate in his ears, a deafening sound reaching a crescendo in mere seconds.

  Colin tipped her chin, studying the tears clinging to her long lashes and watching as a few traced a path down her cheek. He brushed them away with the pads of his fingertips, noting that her once beguiling pout now appeared more pronounced and solemn. Then she met his gaze, her expression haunted. Gone were her bright eyes, as if their light – her very soul had suddenly been extinguished.

  His mouth went dry.

  Something is wrong.

  He knew it to be true, for his intuition was infallible. It had saved his life on many occasions.

  Clasping her face in his hands, Colin continued, “I promised you that I would return, and I have.”

  “I’m betrothed, Colin,” her eyes held his.

  He thought she was seeking a solution, so he offered one. “You can cry off.”

  “I can’t do that to him. I can’t hurt ...” Eve choked on her last words.

  It was as if she couldn’t bring herself to speak the man’s name. Colin stood firm. “You can cry off; you must.”

  “We could never hurt him like that, Colin,” Eve’s tears were flowing freely now, her eyes wide. In their depths, he discerned that something was terribly wrong. His chest constricted.

  What in bloody hell has she done?

  In an instant, it dawned on Colin that none of his intelligence ever identified Eve’s betrothed.

  His breathing, like his thoughts, accelerated.

  Dear God, he never thought to ask the question.

  “Who is he?” Colin demanded, struggling for breath. It was as if in one sudden rush, all oxygen vacated the room. “What is his name?”

  Eve remained silent. In response, Colin grabbed her arms. “Tell me, Eve.” He again received no response and shook her, unable to stop himself.

  Colin had suspected the name before it escaped her lips in a tremulous murmur.

  “Tristan.”

  A chill washed over Colin as if he’d been doused with an icy rain. Studying Eve, he searched for a sign, any sign, that he misunderstood her. Surely, the woman he loved would never become betrothed to his brother?

  The turmoil emanating from her piercing stare conveyed the very opposite as did her ashen complexion.

  “Did you know that Tristan is my brother?” Colin asked, his hands still clutching her arms.

  Eve nodded.

  Her silence caused Colin to recoil from her very touch. “My, you have changed. The woman I knew would never be so malicious.”

  She flinched as if his words stung her, and he hoped they did. It is why he added, “You are so beautiful yet your beauty is nothing more than a façade hiding a blackened heart.”

  “Tristan doesn’t think so,” Eve countered, “then again, your brother is twice the man you will ever be.”

  Colin slammed his fist against the gilded table in front of him, causing an antique vase to rattle. He then turned towards her, his tone deliberately low and dangerous. “Do not utter another word to me about my brother.”

  He marched towards the windows at the far side of the small room. A bird flew past the glass, but he failed to discern its color or breed, his vision was so blurred by her betrayal.

  The irony failed to escape him. Colin postponed returning to England because he was ashamed of the man he had become yet, all the while, Eve had transformed into someone he no longer recognized.

  “You have no right to censure me,” Eve said, her tone as sharp and judging as her words.

  Colin rounded on her. His fury must have been palpable for she took a step backwards.

  “Make no mistake,” he warned, a vein pulsating within his neck. “I am the one who remained faithful. I returned to you.”

&n
bsp; “What did you expect me to do?” She reached for him, gripping his wrist. “I waited for you. I tried to find you without success. What other choice did I have but to give up hope?”

  Jerking his wrist as she leaned into him, Eve continued. “What would you have me do – pine for the rest of my life over a man who didn’t have the decency to say a proper goodbye?”

  “Out of all the suitors in England, why did you choose my brother? Please explain to me – if not out of spite, then why?” He again inhaled the heady scent of roses, the once sweet fragrance now searing his nostrils.

  “Why didn’t you contact me?” Eve clutched his wrist tighter, her tone rising while desperation emanated from her every word. “Why didn’t you write me? Just once in three years.”

  “Don’t you mean two?” he asked, his jaw tensed to the point that he could feel a muscle twitch.

  Eve’s expression softened. “I never thought you would return,” she stared at him for several seconds before glancing at her hand, which remained wrapped around his wrist. Eve released him so fast that his arm fell to his side. “I—I didn’t think—”

  He raised his palm in the air to silence her. “It matters not. Congratulations on a splendid match, Miss Weston. You are aware, no doubt, that Tristan stands to inherit a title and fortune?”

  “Don’t,” she warned, “You of all people should know that I’m not some ambitious woman seeking a prestigious match.”

  Shaking his head, he narrowed his gaze. “I know nothing of the sort.”

  Her wounded expression was laced with pain and confusion yet, though she donned innocence like the latest Paris fashion, he sensed it was an act. Eve’s betrothal to his younger brother proved she was callous and calculating.

  Colin condemned her with his heated gaze. “Would it make you feel better if I accepted the blame for your decision to become betrothed to my brother?”

  Eve wiped her eyes with her palms. “The truth would be welcome.”

  “Very well, then,” he leaned closer to her before continuing. “I admit that I made a mistake in overestimating you and your affection. I had no idea you were so heartless, so selfish, or so hateful.”

  A cold draft replaced the thick tension that had hovered in the air just minutes before.

  Or perhaps it was her frosty expression?

  “You haven’t inquired about my family, Mister MacAlistair.” Eve steeled her shoulders, her smooth visage now contorted into a mask of loathing.

  Colin raked his fingers through his hair. “You now expect me to take part in polite conversation?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know what happened after your desertion?” Eve paused, tipping her head to the side. “Or do you prefer to condemn me with no knowledge of my life following your departure?”

  “Fine, I’ll play along,” his tone dripped heavily of sarcasm as he leaned against the back of a chaise, crossing his arms over his chest. “How is your grandmother, Eve? Are your parents still traveling abroad? Oh, I know! Has your father gambled away more of his inheritance?”

  Eve shot him a look of reproof. “My parents are deceased,” she hissed.

  Colin’s conscience slammed into his ribs, his words haunting him. Dear God, why did he taunt her like that? “Eve, I had no idea.”

  “Of course you didn’t. You failed to take any interest before my visit today.” Eve wiped her eyes with her fingertips, a regal attempt to salvage her pride he supposed as new tears began to form.

  Colin reached into his vest pocket and offered her his handkerchief, silently cursing himself for his vicious remarks.

  Eve shoved his offering aside. “You have no idea what my grandmother and I have endured since you sent me that cursed missive.”

  “I am truly sorry,” he reached for her but she yanked her arm free.

  “What other questions did you have?” she asked, pressing her finger against her full lips as if in contemplation. Eve shed no more tears he noted, opting instead to make him feel as much guilt and shame as possible.

  “Ah, yes, I remember. You asked if my father gambled away more of his inheritance. I refuse to address that remark as I am certain you suspect the humiliating answer. That is why you asked the question, is it not – to demean me?”

  Words failed him. Colin had assumed Eve’s life would remain the same. Never did he contemplate that such a tragedy would befall her family.

  His expression softened. “I would have returned sooner had I known.”

  “There was no need,” she smiled. “Tristan comforted me. Unlike yours, his affection has been resolute.”

  “Do you love him?” The words escaped Colin’s lips before he could stop them.

  Studying Eve, he noted that she averted her eyes before answering, “Yes, I do.”

  He could swear he noted a tinge of regret in her tone. “Do you love him as much as you love me?”

  Why in bloody hell did he ask such a question? Perhaps he wished to further torture himself.

  Eve’s eye flashed in defiance. “I don’t love you – not any longer.”

  “I don’t believe you,” he surveyed her, testing her resolve though Eve remained silent. “What? Have you no rebuke?”

  Squaring her shoulders, as if in preparation for battle, Eve offered him a jaunty grin. “I don’t need one. You mean nothing to me.”

  With that final stinging reproof, she turned and marched out of the room. He listened, focusing on the sound of her gauzy skirts swaying rapidly.

  She was running from him. The knowledge caused his heart to weigh heavy with remorse.

  Colin’s pulse pounded harder against his temples with each step she took, realization taking root and growing in intensity. The woman he loved beyond reason was betrothed to his brother. Never, even in his wildest imaginings, did Colin consider this particular outcome.

  He crossed the room, slumping against the large window as he watched Eve proceed to her carriage.

  Look at me, he willed. Just look at me, and I will know you still love me.

  Not once did Eve glance in his direction. Instead, she ascended the steps of her carriage and disappeared out of sight, her words haunting him like a phantom howling in the harsh wind.

  You mean nothing to me.

  Colin believed her. Because he judged her, taunted her, insulted her until he was certain that he indeed meant nothing to her. Crossing the room, he leaned against the fireplace mantel where an antique tulipiere rested front and center, flanked on either side by brass candlesticks and several porcelain figurines in the shape of various birds.

  “Damn it to hell,” Colin moaned through gritted teeth as he shoved the contents from the mantel with one swift motion, the delicate antiques crashing to the floor with an ear-piercing mixture of shattering porcelain and marble.

  Colin studied the wreckage, his fingers tightening around the now empty mantel. For years, he had devoted himself to amassing a fortune for the sole purpose of proving himself worthy of Eve Weston, and in the end it was hopeless.

  Damn it to hell! Why did I goad her?

  He knew the answer all too well – Eve was betrothed to his younger brother and Colin knew himself well enough to realize that he would still want her, perhaps even attempt to take her away from Tristan. After everything Colin was capable of, destroying his brother’s happiness would pale in comparison to some of his other sins.

  Quite simply, he had eliminated the unavoidable temptation that he would no doubt feel. After all, if Eve despised him, it would be impossible for Colin to win her back.

  Colin’s heart hung heavy within his chest, laden with regrets. How could he watch Tristan and Eve wed, knowing all the while that his brother would be claiming the life that Colin himself so desperately sought?

  She loves Tristan.

  He wanted it to be true yet, deep within his subconscious, lay a nagging suspicion that Eve did not love his brother.

  If she loved Tristan, would Eve have allowed Colin to take such liberties as he had today? An embrac
e or two, caresses of her cheek and neck, standing in such close proximity that they almost kissed were not the acts of a woman committed to another man.

  Then there was her admission of love for Tristan. It caused Colin to remember her avowals of love to him years earlier. Her eyes danced as she spoke the words yet no such emotion shone through her declaration of love for his brother.

  Regardless, Eve was betrothed to Tristan – his brother – and there were some lines even Colin would never cross.

  With his every breath, Colin’s love, his hope, his very future drained from his heart, and he wondered if he would ever again feel joy. The answer hit him like an anvil.

  Never again. Not without Eve.

  How could he live without her, without the hope of her, knowing she would never again be in his arms? His conscience affirmed that he would survive, of course. He’d done so before. He would do so again.

  But he would do so in spite of himself.

  Colin surveyed his surroundings – the rich green furnishings, dark mahogany paneling, and accent pieces. He always considered the drawing room décor to be rather masculine, yet when he first entered the room today it shimmered with the presence of an alluring goddess, golden sunshine, and infinite possibilities. For a brief moment, he felt like all was right with humanity, bolstered by the fact that Eve sought him out. Then his world buckled, collapsing into a cold, lonely place. It was all too familiar. Such had been his colorless, humorless world ever since he left Eve.

  No matter how much he loved her and as difficult as it was for Colin to admit, perhaps Eve was better off without him. He could never impose such a dark, dreary life on the woman he loved.

  Your brother is twice the man you will ever be.

  Eve’s statement wounded him. Not because she was wrong. To the contrary, she was correct. Tristan was kind, generous, respectable and whole. Colin remained haunted by too many secrets ever to feel complete again.

  Colin would allow Eve to think that he had abandoned her and that he never cared about her. To do so would be far kinder than revealing the truth.

  * * *

  The intruder studied the structure before him, taking care not to be seen. Though making an appearance during the day was a risk, it was well worth taking since it led to the very sighting he hoped for – MacAlistair, in all his artificial glory, staring through the window.