by Kali Anthony
‘You know, cher.’ He turned to her. He’d look her in the face when he confronted her. The whole charade they were playing was about this. Redeeming his image so he could take his rightful place at every table without snide whispers. ‘The story that says you didn’t want to elope with me. That you weren’t a willing participant.’
‘That’s ridiculous.’ The words were adamant but all colour drained from her face. She gripped her napkin tightly in her hands. So tightly her knuckles paled.
‘Of course it is,’ Greta said. ‘People saw a romantic story and took joy in making something unpleasant of it. Schadenfreude. But I can see it isn’t true. I only wish you as long and as happy a marriage as my husband and I had.’
Eve turned to Greta, gave her a tight smile.
‘Thank you. We can only hope to be as lucky.’ She dropped her napkin on the table and stood. Grabbed her clutch bag. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I need the restroom.’
Then she left the table as if the hounds of hell were chasing her. Gage watched her go, watched the brisk walk, the way her hips swayed, moulded by the soft blue fabric of her dress as she was pointed in the right direction by the helpful waiter.
‘Perhaps that conversation was indelicate of me. Eve’s a charming woman and it must be distressing.’
‘She sometimes forgets how cruel people can be. She’s a sensitive soul, my fiancée.’ He hesitated for a moment. It was the truth. How could he have forgotten that? She’d always seen the best in things and people, even when life had thrown up the worst.
But she’d looked shocked, truly shocked by the revelation, and his brain wouldn’t let him process it. His life had been lived under the assumption she’d been complicit in all the attempts to ruin his reputation. He didn’t know how to think any other way. It was his frame of reference for all his thoughts and beliefs about their relationship.
‘I hope I haven’t upset her.’
Eve’s horrified tone, the blood draining from her face, all the colour gone. He couldn’t stop thinking that this had been a complete surprise to her. What if it was? What if she’d had no idea at all, exiled as she’d been over here in France? He couldn’t process any of it, it was as though his whole life had been upended. ‘Perhaps I’ll go and check...’
‘You should. I’ll sit here and continue to sample this delightful wine. We have much to discuss over the coming months, Gage,’ Greta said enigmatically.
But somehow he couldn’t see it as a triumph as he stood and left the table.
All he could think of was Eve, and how shattered she’d appeared.
CHAPTER SEVEN
EVE STOOD AT the basin, staring into the mirror. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her pounding heart, to ease the twist of pain. She’d never heard the rumours. How could anyone claim such an awful thing, that she hadn’t gone willingly with Gage? She’d so badly wanted to be Gage’s wife that nothing else had mattered, not even her family. She’d have travelled to the ends of the earth for him. And people were saying that he’d effectively kidnapped her?
But that wasn’t the worst of it. It had been the look on his face as they’d been discussing it. Anger and certainty, as if he was convinced she had known. She lifted a trembling hand and brushed at the smudges under her eyes that no amount of concealer could hide. It had been impossible to sleep over the past few months with worry about the business, her family and then being around Gage. Some days she barely functioned, and yet she needed to go back out there. Perform. Play a part when all she wanted to do was curl up into a tiny ball and weep.
She turned on the cold tap and ran her wrists under the bracing water. Closed her eyes and tried to steady her throbbing heart. Stop the tears falling. She’d done it once. Survived the worst. All alone, thousands of miles from home, in a small church with a tiny white coffin and only a priest to see her tears. She’d woven that pain into the tapestry of her life and moved forward. What was one more time?
‘Let’s do this,’ she said to her reflection, gritting her teeth and straightening her spine. She wrenched open the bathroom door, head down, and smacked straight into a wall of hard muscle and chest. Hands clasped her arms to steady her. She didn’t need to be afraid of who it was. She knew. That heat, the smell of the man that made her crave to nestle her head against all that strength and soak it into herself for a while.
Gage.
But if she did, she might never let him go and she would always have to leave. Still, she couldn’t muster the will to fight him. Not right now. She leaned back and met his gaze. A slight crease in his forehead was the only sign of all the questions she could never answer written there. Something soft and unreadable in his eyes. It undid her. As if looking back at her was the twenty-three-year-old young man she’d loved and left. The billionaire businessman was gone.
‘Are you okay?’
No one had ever asked that in all these years. The doctors had talked about scientific probabilities. Nurses had patted her arm and said she was young; she’d have another baby. The priest had talked about God’s will. No one had asked about her. Of course she’d hidden it from her family, not wanting her father to rage at the knowledge that a Caron had touched his daughter. Not wanting any of them to express relief that her baby had been lost, because that would have broken her completely.
Not even her mom or sister had asked how she was coping with losing Gage. It was as if, for them, that part of her life had ceased to exist. When for her there had been no relief, only bottomless grief.
She had run a business and people had assumed she was okay. Her family had relied on her. No one had ever thought about what she wanted, ever. Except for Gage. Now he cupped her cheek because he could always see through her. Saw what others might miss. Part of her wished she could tell him what had happened, to share the pain, but what good would it do? It was better that he remain blissfully unaware. The burden was hers to carry. No one else’s. And at that moment she let go. If he hadn’t been steadying her, she would have fallen apart completely.
‘The rumours. What were they exactly?’
His gaze hardened. ‘You know.’
She shook her head almost hard enough to give herself vertigo. Tears pricked at her eyes. ‘You have to believe me. I don’t.’
‘Wasn’t what you heard enough? You didn’t want to come with me. I forced you to. You were scared of me and had a lucky escape.’
She gripped at the fabric of his shirt, crushing it in her fingers. ‘Who said those things?’
‘I thought it was you.’
‘Never!’
‘Okay. Let’s assume it wasn’t you.’ He didn’t sound convinced and his frown remained. ‘I can’t believe you’d be so naïve as to not guess who else might have had a reason. There’s only one possibility.’
No. Her father had promised Gage would be left alone. That had been their deal. He’d be left to live his life...and she’d try to pick up the pieces of hers. ‘People make up stories all the time.’
‘And still you defend him. Sure, people make up stories. But every time something great was happening with Caron, a quiet word and investors melted away. I had to fight harder than anyone to keep things going. These anonymous whispers only came out when it would do most damage. And who would want to hurt me if not you? Your father.’
She released the crushed cotton of Gage’s shirt and buried her head in her hands. How could anyone sully the memory of that time? It had been terrifying, exciting, full of promise and hope for the future. That’s what she remembered. And the sense of desperation that they had been each other’s one and only, and no one could tear them apart. Once it had ended, clinging to the hope that what they’d both have left were beautiful memories, and for her that would be enough to survive on.
But to dirty their past this way was unforgivable, hitting deep at the heart of their young love. She’d always believed the deal she’d struck with her f
ather. That she’d leave Gage, and nothing would be said about his family or what had happened. He’d promised.
‘Who promised?’
She’d said that aloud? Part of her wanted to tell Gage, to shout that she’d never stopped loving him and had made a devil’s bargain to protect him.
No wonder Gage hated her, wanted revenge, this charade of a relationship. Because someone had been dripping poison into people’s ears about him for years, poisoning him in the process. Yet another thing she’d have to atone for and fix. Because she would fix this. She’d work day and night to repair the damage her father had done, even if it meant once again sacrificing herself.
‘We should get back to Greta. She’ll be wondering where we are.’
Gage cupped her cheeks and stared down at her in this dim corridor, trying to delve into her soul.
‘You carry a world of pain in your eyes. I want to know why. What’s hurting you?’
How could she answer?
Your dad’s not really your father. You’re someone else’s son. I lost our baby.
She could say all those things. The secrets she’d held onto for years. But what good would it do to unburden them all now?
‘Nothing, other than revisiting our past. I’m all for moving forward.’
He scanned her face, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a tiny smile.
‘Why did I ever believe you were a good liar?’ he murmured.
Because it was easy to lie when she wasn’t standing in front of him. But this had been the flaw in agreeing to the deal to save Knight. Because the man in the flesh was her Kryptonite. She’d been a fool to think that she could carry through with this game. She always held the losing hand, craving his warmth and strength. Especially now. And maybe that was exactly something she could take, something to distract them both from the truths she could never tell. So she grabbed the lapels of his jacket as his eyes darkened. Went up further on her toes and pulled his head down to her lips.
Her kiss demanded hard and passionate, but their lips touched and all Gage gave was gentle. Arms sliding round her back, holding her with a kind of reverence she didn’t deserve. His lips moved over hers, coaxing her to give more than she wanted to. And, still, she couldn’t help falling into it. This kiss that whispered it was more about love than desire. Timeless and endless. Not like the stolen kisses of their youth but something older, wiser and infinitely more dangerous because it carried all the hurts of the past mingled with what felt a lot like forgiveness.
She was held safe, ensnared by all the slick and hypnotising rhythm of it. Never wanting the moment to end. And maybe even if she couldn’t tell him how she felt, she was showing it here. But she was terrified that he was showing her something too. Gage’s hand delved into her hair, holding her tight, giving and taking. His body was hot and hard against hers, his arousal obvious, making her want. The core of her ached, needing him to fill her. Then he slowed, pulled away, his breathing heavy.
‘We need to go,’ she said. She didn’t look at him, because if she did it would likely end her.
‘We’re not done, Eve. This conversation isn’t over.’
That didn’t matter to her so long as it was over for now. Then she could pull herself together before she completely fell apart, because she held secrets Gage was never going to find out.
Eve and he had walked back to the table hand in hand. They’d finished up with Greta, and she’d promised to call Eve about the vineyard. It was everything he could have dreamed of, the deal not yet sealed but he was sure it would be. The whole thing had been so laughably easy it was almost an anti-climax to all that had gone before.
And yet the night felt as if something had irrevocably changed. All those years he’d believed that Eve had been a party to the insidious rumours about him and she was adamant she’d had no idea. Once he might not have believed her denials, had he not witnessed her reaction tonight. The shock, the horror was so genuine he doubted even the best actress could have played the part so well. It convinced him she’d had no idea at all.
If he’d been wrong about that, what else had he been wrong about? Gage couldn’t fathom the possibilities. He’d suffered through that excruciating phone call when he’d promised to take Eve away from her family, when she’d viciously rejected his love, treating him like a foolish boy. The scorn in her voice. That had all been painfully real. The question now, all these years on, was why had she done it?
For seven years he’d been certain of where he stood in the world. Now he wasn’t sure of anything. In the back of the car, on the way home to Grasse, Eve had pressed herself so far against the door on the other side of the car it had been as though she was in another country. Why had she been so far away? That kiss she’d given him had rocked his foundations. Something he wanted to explore because he was sure she’d used it to distract him from getting to the truth. As if it would have all spilled out if she’d allowed herself to get close.
The car travelled up the long farmhouse drive and halted at the front doors. As Gage thanked the driver Eve jumped out of the car, almost fleeing to the door, except tonight she didn’t have the key. He strolled towards her, formulating his plan because this night wasn’t ending here. Eve was still like a drug flowing through his veins and he craved more of her.
‘Have a drink with me,’ he said.
‘I think I’ve had more than enough tonight.’ Her voice was soft, a little breathy. He knew that tone, the one that told him how much she desired him. In all this time he hadn’t forgotten the things that made her tick.
‘I’d like to discuss the dinner, see if there’s anything I’ve missed.’
Business. He gave her that to hide behind. She sighed, and the sound of it caressed him like a feather down his spine.
‘Now?’
‘While it’s fresh.’ Gage pushed the door open. ‘Come into the kitchen.’ She’d think that was neutral space, whereas he saw no part of this place as neutral. It was all a war zone, one way or another, and he’d never been known to lose a battle.
He followed Eve through the house, the scent of her trailing behind like that of the fields of flowers surrounding this place. As they entered the kitchen, with its stone walls and exposed wooden beams, he could see how this home suited the very core of her. Except right now she didn’t seem comfortable here, edging around the counter area and away from him. She dragged out a barstool and sat, slipping off her stilettos.
Pink. Her toenails were a pretty pink.
‘Would you like warm milk, bourbon and honey to help you sleep?’ He went to the refrigerator.
‘Sure, why not?’
She sounded like he’d just asked her to chew glass.
‘I’d appreciate your opinion on how tonight went.’
He didn’t give a damn about the drink or the dinner. Greta was on board. They’d have to play a few more rounds of getting to know each other but Greta had liked what she’d seen. All that he cared about now was the woman sitting in front of him. Because after what he’d learned tonight, everything was not as it seemed.
As he mechanically grabbed what he needed and began preparing the nightcap, Eve sat there, working through her observations. They were insightful and damned clever. Proving herself to be the businesswoman she’d claimed to have become. No longer a precious society princess or trust-fund child.
Once he’d believed she’d been given the job in France out of nepotism. He’d bet now that she’d been sent here to keep her away from him. Gage finished making the sweet, milky concoction with a solid slug of spirits and poured cups for them both. Eve took a generous sip and didn’t even blink at the amount of bourbon in the cup. He wondered whether she often had trouble sleeping and how much she used this particular remedy.
‘Of course, with Greta set to invest, you won’t need me soon,’ Eve said. That jolted him right back into what had been a one-sided conversatio
n.
‘She’s invited us to her party in Munich in a few months. We’re not done till that deal is signed.’
Eve fished her phone from her bag, flicked through a few screens. Hesitated.
‘I see we’ve hit the press. What a sweet picture you’ve painted.’ Her voice burned as caustic as lye. But he stopped listening to the words and went back to watching the woman. She wasn’t looking at her phone anymore but at her engagement ring, which she twisted to catch the light. ‘I assume you have a plan for when we end it. Something suitably nebulous, like work keeping us apart? A respectful uncoupling?’
No. He’d planned on dialling things up to thermonuclear. A story that told the world exactly what sort of woman she was. A liar. But that didn’t suit him now because he wasn’t sure what she was. Still, he smiled, humoured her.
‘Something like that.’
She looked at him with her china-blue eyes soft and with a wash of something else that, if he had to guess, looked like regret. He didn’t want to talk about endings at all. He wanted to talk about beginnings. Reconnections. The things that lit a fire inside her because he loved her glow. He looked around the rustic farmhouse kitchen, with Eve at its heart. Her corn-silk curls gleamed like an ethereal halo under the soft lights. She looked right, here in this place. Like she should be nowhere else.
‘You must find the farm hard to leave.’
Eve raised her eyebrows and took another sip of her drink. He might have taken some of his too but he didn’t want to go to sleep and he didn’t need to be intoxicated. He was man enough to admit she did that to him already. She smiled, something soft and mysterious that lit her up from inside.
‘It is. I try to stay here whenever it’s not rented out, which isn’t often enough.’
‘Why rent it out at all?’
She shrugged. ‘I have a loan I want to pay off faster and tourists are happy to pay a premium to stay here. I do what I have to do.’
‘And when you don’t need to anymore?’