by Jean Oram
She folded herself into his arms, nodding, mute with the shock of having someone so different finally understand and accept where she was coming from. Evander was quickly becoming the man who was everything that had been missing in her world.
Daphne shook the tension out of her hands and released a gusty sigh. The way Evander had revealed himself in the kitchen had been unexpected. The fact that he went to war for the same reasons she lived her life was unsettling. How could they both be driven by love? It was incongruent having a gun-toting, knife-throwing hunk of muscle going to war to preserve love in the world. What had set them on such separate paths if they had similar core values?
War and peace. Which would help save the world?
And yet, if they were so similar, why couldn’t Evander see that she was an active participant in her life? She wasn’t sitting around letting it go by, as he seemed to believe.
She vowed not to think about him any longer and finished folding the basket of laundry in her room. Pushing back the curtain, she glanced at the street below. There was a car parked along the curb, the window rolled down. An elbow rested on the sill and she wondered when the reporter would give up. He’d banged on the door, requesting an interview, but Evander had chased him away with threats that had sent chills down her spine. She allowed the curtain to fall back into place.
She needed a way to show Evander she was taking action. Just because she wasn’t controlling every little thing and left space for spontaneity didn’t mean she was letting her life run her.
Picking up her phone, Daphne dialed Mistral’s office. She was going to arrange that meeting she’d told her sisters about. No more pussyfooting. No more waiting for Mistral. Summer was almost over and she needed a decision from him.
“Mistral, please,” she said, when the secretary picked up.
“I’m sorry, he’s not taking calls right now.”
“Now or ever?” Daphne asked with suspicion.
“I do believe his lawyer has advised him not to speak with you.” The secretary’s voice had a chill that could rival a kiss from a snowman.
“Right. And that’s your business how, exactly?” Daphne asked sweetly.
“I will not put your call through.”
Peace, light, and goodwill. No murder via ballpoint pen.
“You will let him know I called, because that is your job.” Daphne hit the red button to end the call, wishing she’d been able to slam the phone down. Maybe next time she could slam it against something and then tell the woman to—no, peace, light, happiness. Inhale, one, two, three. Exhale, one, two, three.
Oh, forget it.
Daphne picked up the phone and dialed Mistral’s cell.
“Yeah?” His voice was curt and dismissive.
For a moment Daphne forgot why she was calling. Take charge of her life, be active and not a passive participant. Prove to Evander he was wrong. Make him proud of her.
“Have you had a chance to think about my proposal?” she asked.
“My lawyers advised me not speak with you any longer due to what happened on the road the other day.”
“You heard about that, huh? Thanks for your concern.”
“Yeah,” he said drily, “it was a little embarrassing, being hauled down to the police station for questioning.”
“Did you send him after me?”
“Give me some credit.”
“Did you?”
“Who do you think I am? Some monster? What if Kim had been with you?”
“I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”
“Sorry. I’m sorry. Things are crazy around here right now and it’s getting to me.”
Daphne bit her tongue so she wouldn’t say something snarky. “Does Aaron still work for Rubicore?”
She spied Evander in the hall outside her bedroom. He paused as he went by, his head stuck in his phone as usual. She was starting to dislike his phone. And it felt as though he was using it as a barrier between them, when all she wanted was to find out more about him. To sit. To talk.
And maybe get another one of those kisses like when she’d been hopped up on nerves and adrenaline after he’d brought them into the safety of his home. He’d met her with a passion and need that had cranked her up even further. But then he’d pulled away. Several times. She wasn’t sure what would have happened if Tigger hadn’t come up the stairs.
She wanted more of Evander, but she knew it was the kind of more that would lead to trouble. They might seem to have some core beliefs in common, but they were still so incredibly different. But the way he handled Tigger and made her eyes dance caused Daphne’s heart to warm and swell as though she had a circulatory problem. The worst part was that she desperately wanted Evander to care for her, as well.
“He’s a bit of a mess,” Mistral said carefully into her ear, and for a moment she thought he was talking about Evander and not Aaron. “He’s not dealing well with the roadblocks and I’ve suggested counseling. I’ve let him go, but my father has decided to keep him on as his own assistant. It doesn’t matter what I do, Dad always undermines me.” He let out a sigh as though the weight of the world was pressing on him. “I fired Ricardo, too. I have a new assistant.”
“Is he armed?”
“Probably. I’m sorry. I know how you feel about guns.”
“Why do you need a bodyguard?”
“I was advised to make sure I had an assistant who was armed, for crossing picket lines up in Muskoka.”
“What picket lines?”
“The ones everyone assumes you’ll erect against me.” He gave a sheepish laugh. “I’ve had time to think. I let my dad blow you up as this big evil force who hated me, but seeing you…” His voice was soft and almost wistful, and Daphne wondered if he was remembering those hot summer nights they’d spent together hiding out at Trixie Hollow, when nobody else was around. “I understand where you’re coming from.”
She could practically visualize Mistral running a hand through his hair as he let out a jagged breath.
“Thank you. Thank you for saying that.” She sagged onto her bed. Mistral was still the good man she’d known him to be. They could still get control of this situation. But they had to work together, and he was going to have to learn how to be a whole lot stronger.
Daphne glanced into the empty hallway, wishing Evander could have heard Mistral, but he’d wandered into his own room on the other side of the wall. She half pictured him pressing his ear against it to hear her side of the conversation. Although it was more likely he had her room or phone bugged.
“This project is my baby,” Mistral continued. “It was also Aaron’s first real chance to prove himself and get a massive promotion. He didn’t take the threat well.”
“That’s why I’m calling. I want to remove the threat by working together.”
“You think we can work together without killing each other?” He added quickly, “That’s just an expression, by the way.”
“I think in a lot of ways we’re coming from the same place.” She thought of her recent conversation with Evander. The two of them, even though vastly different, had similar core values driving them to take action in differing ways. Mistral hadn’t changed so much that they were no longer coming from the same place. They just had different reasons for doing what they were doing.
“You always saw the world differently,” he said, “and with a hope that none of us others could ever wish for.”
Daphne gave an uneasy laugh. “I’m not sure if that is a compliment or not.”
“It is.”
Silence stretched out between them.
“So?” she asked. “What do you say? Shall I drive down so we can discuss this plan?”
“You are the most persistent woman I’ve ever met. And I’ve met plenty.” She could hear papers rustling in the background, then a sigh. “Fine. You win. How can I say no to someone who’s always been open and friendly, even when I’ve been a complete you-know-what and my colleagues have broken into her home and trie
d to run her off the road? Man, I really need to start listening to my lawyers, don’t I?” He gave an uneasy chuckle.
Lesson number one: It was always harder to say no to someone who was smiling, friendly, and expected the best from you.
Evander might not understand her go-with-the-flow, happy attitude, but it was kicking his let’s-fight-it-out plan right now.
“How’s tomorrow?” she asked. “Any openings?”
“I’m in Toronto.”
“Well, in case you haven’t heard, the highway does run both ways. How about eleven o’clock?”
“Fine,” he said with resignation.
She hung up the phone and began planning.
11
“What do you mean, you want to go to Toronto and talk to Mistral?” Evander wanted to give Daphne a good, hard shake, but was struggling to squeeze drops into the cat’s folded-back ears. Yesterday, he’d been certain she’d understood what he was saying about being an active participant in her life. He knew he’d agreed to help her with peace talks, but this? Several members of the press were waiting out on the street for their chance to go in for the kill, and she was busy whipping up a meeting that would be in the papers all around the planet—without consulting him first, he might add.
“Email your proposal,” he said.
How was he supposed to protect her? How was he supposed to keep her safe when she kept shutting him out? He’d thought they understood each other at long last. He’d opened up and yet she was still the same old Daphne, charging on. Nothing had changed.
Rudolph clawed his way loose when Evander unconsciously tightened his grip on the feline. Evander held in a hiss of pain, not wanting to be distracted from the bomb Daphne was imploding at his feet.
“I don’t want to go, I am going,” she said, tipping up her chin with determination. “There’s a difference.”
Brick wandered into the room in a magenta bathrobe. “Oh? Toronto? Are we all going? I could use better slippers than the ones I packed. I was in such a state.” He smiled expectantly at the fighting couple, and Evander scowled, pointing to the door.
“I’ll take that as a no.” Kyle backed out of the kitchen, hands raised in surrender.
“Did it ever occur to you to run this meeting by me first?” Evander boomed. “That there might be things I need to put in place to ensure your safety? I thought we were a team. A team trying to keep you safe. Meeting with Mistral. Is. Not. Safe.”
He should have bugged her cell phone. He should have captured their conversation so he could hear Mistral’s side of it. She was too trusting.
“Evander, you’re being really…” Daphne wouldn’t meet his eyes as she backed away.
“Threatening?”
“Yeah.”
He took one massive step, eating the space between them. She bumped against the table, sending Tigger’s half-empty glass of milk sloshing. He rested his hands over Daphne’s ears and pushed his lips against hers, determined to show he wasn’t a threat, and that he only wanted what was best for her. He gave her a hard kiss, then stepped back.
“When I said be active in your life,” he said softly, “I didn’t mean go running into the open mouth of the roaring lion.”
Her cheeks were bright red as she said, “I resent the way you paint me with the stupidity stick.”
She placed her tiny hands on her hips and glared at him, her attention focused solely on his lips. He almost laughed, she looked so indignant. But there was a fire in her eyes that he didn’t dare mess with. If he didn’t handle this right, she would take off without him. And that would be a disaster for sure.
“And,” she added, “you need to learn to kiss better.” She turned on her heel, trying to beat a hasty escape into the sitting room, where Florence and Tigger were knitting once again.
Evander hooked her around the waist, spinning her into his arms. With one hand on the back of her head, the other wrapped around her slender form, he pulled her warmth against him. With a deliberate slowness, he gently brushed her lips with his. The caress was sweet and he licked her lower lip before giving her a long, slow kiss. Heat sizzled between them and it was all he could do to pull back, to be a gentleman, to not lift her T-shirt dress and lay her flat out on the breakfast table.
He let her go and put his hands on his hips as she had only moments ago, enjoying the way she looked dazed, her chest expanding, but not quite fully able to inhale properly.
“For the record, I can kiss. And I understand that you are used to making your own decisions without having to consult with anyone. But in order to do my job and keep you safe—no matter what sweet things that ex of yours whispers in your ear—I need you to consult with me. I can’t do my job if you’re making plans without talking to me.”
“Okay.”
Okay? That was it?
Had his kiss blown her difficult side out of commission? If so, he’d have to remember that trick.
“What time do you have to be there?” he asked grudgingly.
Today was going to be endless. After that kiss and her softly giving in, he was going to be thinking with the wrong head all day long.
Daphne checked the slender watch on her wrist. “About three and a half hours.”
“And you’re just telling me now?” The anger was back. “It’s almost a three-hour drive.”
“I know. But I thought—”
“You did this so…” No, he wasn’t going to argue with her. He was also not going to lock her in a room for her own safety. As appealing as that was.
Tigger came bounding into the kitchen, all lace and flounces in her party dress.
“Is she coming with us?” he snapped, tipping his head toward the small girl. Daphne was never going to think about safety first, was she?
“I’m right here,” Tigger said. She gave him a dark look.
“Sorry, kiddo.”
“Well, if I can’t go, then she can’t go,” Kyle said, joining them in the kitchen. He pointed to Tigger. “So, I say we stay here and have a TV party with Florence, while the poopy adults fight their way to the city and back. What do you say, Tigger? Does your mother approve of nail polish? I think Granny needs her nails freshened and I bet she’s got some colors that would look splendid on those tapered fingers of yours.”
“Is it okay if she stays here?” Daphne asked, looking from Brick to Evander. “I was going to take her to hang out with Melanie, since she’s still off work, but I’d feel better leaving her here with all the security stuff.”
Evander ran a hand down his face, taking in his brother’s magenta robe. Would the kid be safe here? It wouldn’t be as safe if he was gone, but she sure wasn’t coming with them.
“You had time to line up a babysitter, but still didn’t think to tell me you were going to Toronto?” he asked, an edge to his voice.
“You were eavesdropping! How did you not know?”
“I was not!”
“I think this is our cue to go raid Granny’s nail polish,” Kyle whispered to Tigger, and they hustled out of the room.
“You’re always around, looking over my shoulder,” Daphne said. “You’re like, like…” Her hands were fluttering and her cheeks were flushed. They needed to go to bed. Together. That would settle this.
No.
No, he couldn’t think that way. He needed to remain focused. Not think about what she’d feel like with her legs wrapped around his hips.
“I only heard you ask if Aaron still works for Mistral,” Evander admitted, his jaw clenched.
“He doesn’t. And neither does Ricardo.”
Evander suddenly felt lighter, with tension draining away as though someone had pulled the plug. “That’s promising.”
“I thought so.”
He checked the time and gave a hefty sigh as he poured coffee into his travel mug. “We’ll take my truck even though there’s no backseat for Tigger.” Why hadn’t he bought a bigger truck last winter? Had he really believed he was that alone in the world that he’d never need
to give several people a ride—or small people for that matter? “She’ll be okay riding up front again. The airbag turns off. Plus, the tires on your van suck and the bumper’s still smashed.”
Instead of arguing like he expected, Daphne gave him a sunny smile.
Darn women.
Evander had a very fast, very cold shower while trying to get his frustration with Daphne out of his mind. That and how wonderfully right her body had felt pressed against his as he’d kissed her in the kitchen. Again.
He really needed to stop doing that.
It was becoming harder to get the way she felt out of his mind, as well as those sneaky fantasies that were starting to take over. Fantasies of what they could do together. Alone.
Focus. Keep her safe.
No matter the cost.
He groaned and buttoned his cotton dress shirt. He jerked the cuffs, inspecting his ironing job. Perfect. At least one area of his life was staying controlled and in line with what he needed. Even if it was only his ironing.
Tigger bounded by his bedroom door. She stopped and doubled back. Grinning, she said, “I’m not going to Aunt Mellie Melon’s anymore because we’re having a nail polish party instead!”
“You call your aunt that to her face?” He slipped his phone in his back pocket and his wallet in the other. He needed to get Daphne’s van worked on. There was a shop a few blocks from here that might be able to get it fixed today while they were out.
The girl giggled. “She likes it.”
“You’re joking?”
Tigger shook her head. “I like Max. He’s Tristen’s dog. He has a really big tongue.”
“I didn’t know that about Tristen. Interesting.” Evander grabbed his truck keys and slipped by the girl. They headed down the wood staircase, where sunshine streamed through the window, hitting the landing and blinding him for a half second.
“Max has a big tongue, not Tristen.” The girl giggled, her bare feet tapping out a chirpy beat as she trundled down the steps behind him.
“Oh.” He pretended to be chagrined. “It’s a good thing I didn’t say anything to Tristen about his big tongue. That would have been embarrassing.”