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His first reaction was a quick clutch in the gut. Eve, something had happened to Eve. His knees went weak at the thought as the copter arrowed down for a landing.
Then he saw her, the shape of her in the cockpit beside the pilot. The choppy cap of hair, the curve of her cheek. Pale, naturally. She hated riding in those machines.
The grass of the field went swimming in the displaced air as the copter set down. Then the sound died, the air was still.
She jumped down, a light pack slung over her arm. And his world righted again.
He didn’t move, couldn’t seem to as he was so struck by the sight of her. Striding across the green, casting a wary look at the cows over her shoulder before her eyes met his. Held his.
His heart rolled over in his chest; the most lovely sensation he’d ever known.
He walked forward to meet her.
“I was just wishing for you,” he said. “And here you are.”
“Must be your lucky day, Ace.”
“Ev
e.” He lifted a hand, not quite steady, skimmed his fingers along her jaw. “Eve,” he said again, and his arms were around her, banded like steel as he lifted her off her feet. “Oh God. Eve.”
She felt the shudder run through him as he buried his face in her hair, against the curve of her neck. And knew she’d been right to come. Whatever else there was, she’d been right to come.
“Everything’s okay now.” To soothe, she ran her hands over his back. “It’s okay.”
“You landed in a field of cows, in a jet-copter.”
“You’re telling me?”
He rubbed his hands up and down her arms before linking them with hers and easing back to look at her face. “You must love me madly.”
“I must.”
His eyes were wild and beautiful, his lips warm and tender as he pressed them to her cheeks. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, but you missed a spot.” She found his mouth with hers and let him sink in. When she felt the heat, the punch, her lips curved against his. “That’s better.”
“Much. Eve—”
“We’ve got an audience.”
“The cows don’t mind.”
“Don’t talk about the cows, they creep me out.” When he laughed, she nodded over his shoulder. “Two-legged audience.”
He kept an arm around her waist, possessively, drawing her close to his side as he turned. He saw Sinead standing by the rambling roses, an eyebrow cocked.
“This is my wife,” he told her. “This is my Eve.”
“Well, I hope she’s yours, the way you’ve got a hold of her. A tall girl, isn’t she, quite handsome, too. Looks like she suits you.”
“She does.” He lifted Eve’s free hand to his lips. “She does indeed. Eve, this is Sinead Lannigan. This is . . . my aunt.”
Eve took the woman’s measure in a slow, careful study. Hurt him, her face said clearly, deal with me. She watched Sinead’s eyebrow wing higher, and a faint smile ghost around her mouth.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Lannigan.”
“Sinead will do. Did you come all the way from New York City in that little thing?”
