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‘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.
