She made an offhand gesture and accidentally brushed her fingertips against his arm. Touching was not a good idea. It led to more touching, or at least, wanting more contact. “You get a lot of media exposure when you make it to a certain level in state and national beauty pageants. I actually enjoyed talking with reporters, and one day—at the Miss California, I think—one of the radio deejays got sick and they asked for a volunteer to fill in.” She rolled her eyes. “It was a hoot. I was hooked.”
“Radio?” he repeated. “Isn’t that like feeding caviar to cats? I mean, with your looks…”
Eve blushed. “You have to start somewhere to learn the business. I switched my major to journalism, with an emphasis in broadcasting. My first major gig was in L.A.”
“Oh, yeah, I read about that in your bio.” The smirk on his lips made her slug his shoulder.
“Hey,” he complained.
“Hey, yourself. It was our gimmick. All Nude—Live! It was a spoof. You know, like who could tell—because it’s radio, right?”
His chuckle felt like a feather tickling her insides.
“Was your other host naked or just you?”
She slugged him again. “We were never naked. My cohost, by the way, was an overweight gay man.”
“Sorry,” Matt said sheepishly. “I was just kidding. You’ve always been a class act, Eve. I can’t fault you for that. What I don’t get is why anyone would want the job. Is fame and fortune worth what you have to give up?”
Eve turned her gaze to the road. A year ago, she’d have said yes. A year ago, she’d had all her ducks in a row, her foot in the big pond and she couldn’t have been happier. But now? Now she didn’t know what she wanted or why.
Except maybe one thing, but that she wasn’t likely to get.
“Right now, all I want is to go swimming,” she said in a small voice.
Matt made a peep—as if he’d just pricked his finger on a tack. She glanced sideways. “What?”
“Nothing,” he said, meeting her gaze for a fraction of a second. “I just hadn’t thought that far ahead. You’re supposed to take it slow and easy, remember?”
“Your mother said to listen to my body,” she reminded him. “And my body says swim.” Seeing his grimace, she added, “Don’t worry. I won’t drown. Maybe you could outfit me with little water wings until you trust me not to sink.”
“I trust you,” he said, his voice stern. “But I don’t want you to relapse. My Spanish isn’t good enough to deal with hospitals and doctors.”
Eve settled back in the seat and looked at the scenery flying by.
“I visited two emergency rooms when I was in Panama,” she said, trying to suppress a shudder. “Believe me, Matt, I plan to take it very easy.”
Matt’s shoulder muscles appeared to relax a bit, but she could see his jaw grind.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“No. I was just thinking about Ren and Sara doing all of this. The house, the car.” He glanced sideways, his expression puzzled. “I can understand why Ren wants to help you, but I still don’t get how come Sara is okay with this. I mean, you were engaged to her husband.”
Eve chuckled. “You haven’t met Sara, have you?’
Matt shook his head. “We’ve only talked on the phone.”
“The first time I met Sara I pegged her as a sweet, spineless little Goody Two-shoes.” Laughing, Eve shook her head. “I think Ren did, too. Sara’s the kind of person you overlook until your boat’s sinking. When everyone else is running around in a panic, Sara is passing out life jackets—cool as a cucumber.”
“Bo said she’s been a little volatile lately, but that might be due to her pregnancy,” Matt said.
Eve shifted in the seat to face him. “Oh, I’m not saying she’s not extremely passionate about things—Brady, Ren, Claudie’s halfway house—but she’s so focused and organized she sometimes comes off as laid-back. Believe me, I found that out the first time I returned to Sacramento after moving to New York.”
“This was after you and Ren broke up?”
Eve nodded. “We parted friends. I knew he was in love with Sara before he did. And I’d just been offered the network job, but from the minute I landed in New York I felt as though I’d grabbed hold of a tornado. It was hang on for dear life or crash and burn.”
We know how that turned out, don’t we?
“I used to watch you every morning. You were great,” Matt said quietly. His words were just what she needed to hear. Straight, simple and, she hoped, sincere.
“Thanks. It was quite a ride. Short, but at certain moments very sweet.”
Eve wasn’t ready to think about her career. “As I was saying about Sara, I flew home for my dad’s retirement party, and Sara called. She insisted we get together. That was my first glimpse of her grit and determination.”
Matt’s low chuckle seemed to confirm a similar impression.
“We met at Bo’s houseboat of all places. We had the place to ourselves, and we hung out—like a couple of guys.”
In truth, Eve couldn’t explain how it had happened or why Sara had made the effort, but the two had bonded that afternoon and Eve counted Sara’s friendship among her blessings.
“Sara’s the reason I came to Atlanta, you know,” Matt told her.
“Persistent, isn’t she?”
Matt’s chuckle touched her like a warm breeze. “She just wouldn’t let up—steady, friendly persuasion.”
An odd thought entered her head. One she hadn’t considered before. Was Matt sent to Atlanta for another reason as well? Could Sara be playing matchmaker?
Before Eve could voice her suspicion, Matt said, “I think we’re getting close. Can you read that sign?”
Eve squinted. Her vision was improving, but the headlights of an oncoming car gave the billboard on the side of the road a halo effect. “I think it said Casa something.”
He stepped on the brake and applied the signal to turn left. “Keep your fingers crossed. This looks like a leap of faith to me.”
The road—no more than a crushed limestone shoulder—led past a locked, unattended guard house to a lane bordered on each side by a mangrove swamp. “Oh, this is exciting,” Eve said. In the past few years, she’d never stayed at any venue less prestigious than the Hilton. “Do you think it’s the right place?”
Matt grimaced. “I hope so. I timed the distance on the odometer. We’ve got to be close.”
The car dipped and swayed in birdbath-size potholes—some filled with pale gray water that made a sloshing sound as they oozed through them. Eve was close to suggesting they turn around, when a cinder-block fence appeared with the number five painted in ornate lettering.
“Cinco. That’s us,” she exclaimed, shaking the flyer in triumph.
The tires made a crunching sound as they turned into the driveway. The headlights didn’t reveal much of the landscaping aside from neatly groomed palm trees and scattered bushes bearing fist-size flowers. “It looks nice,” Eve said. “Downright palatial. Are you sure this is the right place?”
Matt nodded. “It looks like the picture.”
He turned off the engine and lights. Quiet, sudden and complete, enveloped them. Without the air conditioner running, the air in the car became stultifying. Despite everything, Eve felt an almost tangible sense of peace. “This might be heaven, you know,” she murmured.
Matt glanced at her a second then opened the door and got out. He stretched and looked around. “Do you have the key?” he asked, squatting beside the door.
Eve fumbled in the outer pocket of her purse. “Right here.”
“Great. Stay put until I turn on the lights. I’ll be right back.”
He took off before she could reply. She collected her purse and bobby pins and sunglasses then opened the door. The air smelled of ocean and plant life. Using the car door for leverage, Eve stood. Her legs still felt slightly disconnected from her body.
The coarse gravel underfoot crackled beneath the soles of her tennis shoes. Eve
couldn’t wait to take off her shoes. She hoped there was a sandy beach somewhere nearby.
A porch light snapped on, highlighting the rear entrance of the house. A metal screen door sprang open and Matt charged out, a big grin on his face. “Ohmygod, wait till you see this place.”
His infectious joy took her breath away. She’d never seen this side of him, and it was a hundred times more attractive than his brave, serious businesslike self, which already made regular appearances in her dreams. Uh-oh, I’m in big trouble now.
Eve’s qualms doubled when Matt picked her up and carried her over the threshold like a new bride. He didn’t make a big deal of it, but Eve’s heart was barely back to normal when he paused midstride to ask, “Nice, huh?”
Her chin swung from side to side. Whitewashed walls, wicker, pottery accents of cobalt blue. “Homey,” she said, dropping her cargo on the broad rustic dining table. “Beautiful.”
“Oh, honey, you ain’t seen nothing yet,” Matt said, grinning. He hefted her a bit higher in his arms and plunged through the airy living room and out a sliding glass door. Eve barely caught a glance of the thatch-covered veranda as he marched ahead.
“Hold on tight,” he whispered, his lips close enough to her ear to move a lock of hair. “This sand is tricky.”
Eve looked down. Sure enough, white sand. Everywhere. The path Matt followed was lined with six-foot palm trees, bushy and black in the moonlight. “Where…?” The question died on her lips as they crested a slight rise that gave way to a horseshoe-shaped lagoon.
“Oh,” she gasped on an inhale.
The moon, which had been drifting in and out of black-bottom clouds, broke free to illuminate the scene. Even though well short of being full, its radiance sparkled on the waves like silver confetti.
“Is this paradise or what?” Matt asked, grinning like a boy.
His joyful tone drew her gaze from the ocean. She lifted her hand to touch his lips in wonder but caught herself in time. Her heart was thudding so loudly she doubted even the sound of the wind and waves could muffle it.
“Yep, it’s paradise all right,” she muttered with a sinking sensation.
She squirmed to be set down. Matt complied without question. In fact, he seemed a bit embarrassed—as if he’d forgotten he was carrying her.
Spotting a weathered log half buried in the sand, Eve walked to it and sat down with a sigh. She couldn’t say for sure why she suddenly felt so troubled.
“Do you need a sweater?” Matt asked solicitously. Then it struck her. He thinks I’m an invalid. Good grief. I’m in paradise with the man of my dreams, but I look like the scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz. Oh, Sara, what have you done?
“JUICE?” Matt asked, approaching the half-buried log where Eve was still sitting—unmoved since he’d left her there half an hour earlier.
His eagerness to share the beauty and wonder of their hideaway had been enough to make Matt forget all his lectures about keeping his distance. He’d been quite content to hold her in his arms—right up to the minute he’d felt her withdraw.
She’d seemed so absorbed by her thoughts that Matt backtracked to the house and unloaded the car. He’d even changed into a tank top and shorts—a pair of baggy, knee-length shorts in a gaudy Hawaiian print he’d never wear outside of Mexico, then snagged a couple of drinks from the cooler before seeking her out.
Eve gave a little shudder and sat up straighter. “Oh, hi. What did you say?”
Her tone—slow and weary—troubled him. He handed her the orange soda and sat down beside her. “Are you okay? You need food, don’t you?”
She took a drink, tilting her head back to swallow. In the moonlight, her neck resembled an alabaster sculpture. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and smiled when she caught him staring at her. “I’m not hungry but I should eat something. We need to unpack, too. But, I just…it’s so…perfect.”
The moonlight glinted on her hair like silver on satin; her eyes showed fatigue, but something else, too. A sadness that made Matt ache to take her in his arms. He would have if she were anyone else. But she was Eve. Maybe it was time to clear the air.
“Eve, I think we should discuss our relationship.”
Her eyes opened wide.
“I don’t mean relationship relationship. I mean our working relationship.”
Her lips formed the word oh, but no sound came out.
“Since Bo and Ren set this up, I have no idea who’s paying for what, but more than likely you’re my boss.” Her lips quirked in a near smile. “And I’ll do whatever you want, but since I’m the healthy one, I think that puts me in charge.”
Her smile grew. Matt liked her smile. A lot. “We’ve only had a couple of days to get to know each other and here we are sharing a house. So, what I’m proposing is—we just kick back and hang out.”
“Like friends?”
Matt attributed the tremulous quaver in her voice to fatigue. “Right. We’ll divvy up tasks. I’ll do the cooking and shopping. You rest and read.”
That made her giggle.
“That’s your job, Eve,” he said seriously. “To get well. The brochure says there’s maid service a couple of times a week, so aside from eating, what’s there to do?”
“Won’t you be bored?” she asked, burying the toes of her Nikes in the sand.
Instead of answering, Matt wiggled his beer bottle into the sand beside the log then leaned over to draw her foot closer. His fingers felt big and awkward, but he managed to loosen the laces. Then he pulled the shoe off—the sock, too. He did the same with the other foot and placed both shoes on top of the log.
When he looked up, Matt caught a glimmer of tears in her eyes. “Thank you,” she said in a husky whisper.
“Okay, but that’s the last one,” he said after taking a hearty swing of beer.
She blinked. “The last what?”
“The last thank-you. No more until we get back to the States, then you can put them all into one, big fat thank-you.” He decided a little flirting couldn’t hurt. She would be healthy someday. And as Bo often told him, pretty women expected it. “In the form of a kiss, I think. Yep, that sounds fair.”
Her smile told him that his flirtation had hit the spot. Unfortunately, those lovely upturned lips also sent a flurry of male hormones off on a mission impossible. Matt took another hasty swallow of beer. Sitting in the moonlight is off the list of things to do with Eve, he decided. It wasn’t smart. She tempted him without even trying.
Matt polished off his beer then rose and extended a hand to her. “How ’bout a quick bite then we call it a night?”
That she didn’t argue seemed to confirm her fatigue. They walked slowly, and Matt looped his arm around her shoulders—just in case.
“I put your bags upstairs. There are three bedrooms on the main floor, but the top floor’s got a killer view,” he said, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her. Is there something in the air that’s messing with my libido or what?
“Stairs?” she wailed thinly. “I can’t do stairs.”
“Not at first. But gradually you’ll be able to gauge your improvement by how many stairs you climb.” Matt had employed the same principle during his recovery. “Believe me, it’s a good exercise. And you can always use one of the other bedrooms during the day, then sleep upstairs at night. Sound fair?”
He felt her nod.
“Why don’t you stretch out on the sofa while I whip up some scrambled eggs? We have fresh flour tortillas and avocados and cheese. Will you try a burrito?”
She nodded again.
Twenty minutes and a quarter of a burrito later, Matt carried Eve upstairs. He could feel her trying to rally her strength, but he pressed a light kiss to her nose and whispered, “Go ahead and sleep, sweetheart. In the morning you’ll wake up in paradise.”
Her sigh warmed his chest. She felt so right in his arms. She’d looped her arms around his neck as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Her hair fell over
his arm like satin rain. His gut knotted recalling her suggestion they share a bed, but he knew she was too wiped out to care where she slept, let alone with whom.
Fighting his baser instincts, he deposited her in the marble-walled bathroom instead of her bed—that would have been tempting fate. She turned and hugged him, her chin down. “Thank…” she started to say, but Matt shushed her.
“Save it for my kiss,” he said as gently as possible then walked away.
After her light clicked off a few minutes later, Matt restlessly explored the house. He discovered a journal written by former guests. Many left detailed messages about possible excursions and points of interest. Others named local restaurants to try.
Good, Matt thought, mentally taking note of several ideas. With any luck, Eve would recuperate in record time. The sooner she got well, the sooner she’d be up for a little sight-seeing. Not that that was his thing, but, maybe, Matt thought, if he and Señora Goodfellow could play tourist, this little vacation would seem less like a honeymoon.
CHAPTER TEN
MATT DECIDED to gamble. Eve had been a perfect patient for four days. Almost perfect. It wasn’t her fault she was so damn beautiful in her colorful swimsuit and gauzy cover-up that he was forced to spend most of his daylight hours in the water to keep from doing something unprofessional.
A picnic on a public beach ought to be a safe bet, he decided.
“Are you up for an outing today?” he called, hearing Eve’s slow descent to the ground floor. By their second day at the house, she’d mastered the stairs on her own—although Matt still kept a close eye on her just in case she got dizzy.
“Really?” she asked, rounding the corner to peer into the kitchen.
Her eager smile almost caused him to drop the egg he was about to crack into the sizzling pan. Frowning to regain his focus, he said, “I thought we might pick up some carnitas and have a picnic. There’s a great public beach near the ruins, if I can find it.”
“Oh, Matt, that would be wonderful,” she said, sliding onto one of the stools at the counter. He’d already set out plates and silverware and two glasses of pineapple juice. “I didn’t want to complain, but I have been going a little stir-crazy.”
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