Cathy Thacker – The Texas Christmas Gift (страница 8)

Derek had only meant to show Eve they had chemistry. Amazing chemistry that would convince her to go out with him, at least once. He hadn’t expected to feel tenderness well inside him, even as his body went hard with desire. He hadn’t expected to want to make love to her here and now, in this empty house. But sensing that total surrender would be a mistake, he tamped down his own desire and let the kiss come to a slow, gradual end.

Eve stepped backward, too, a mixture of surprise and pleasure on her face. Her breasts were rising and falling quickly, and her lips were moist. Amazement at the potency of their attraction, and something else a lot more cautious, appeared in her eyes. Eve drew a breath, and then anger flashed. “That was a mistake.”

Derek understood her need to play down what had just happened, even as he saw no reason to pretend they hadn’t enjoyed themselves immensely. “Not in my book,” he murmured, still feeling a little off balance himself. In fact, he was ready for a whole lot more.

She held up a finger and shook it. Composed again, she stalked away from him, her high heels echoing on the wood floor. When she swung around to face him, he could tell her every defense was in place. “What you’re feeling right now is all related to the roller-coaster emotions of buying a new home. One minute you’re up, the next you’re down. The euphoria you just felt is going to be very short-lived.”

Like hell it was! He was adult enough to know the difference between being excited about purchasing a home, and wanting to make a woman his. And so was she. He rocked back on his heels, braced his hands on his waist and sent her an impudent grin. “You’re telling me you’ve been kissed by clients at the end of a deal before?”

“Yes,” Eve said. She looked him in the eye, long and hard. “I have.”

* * *

HER MATTER-OF-FACT confession had served its purpose. First, Derek looked shell-shocked, then skeptical, and finally, as she had hoped, blatantly unhappy. He stepped closer, as if that would change anything. “You’re kidding,” he exclaimed in a low, raspy voice that practically oozed testosterone.

Eve struggled not to get swept up in the moment or the man, as embarrassment warmed her cheeks. “I wish.”

He shifted forward, invading her space. “How many times?”

With effort, she kept her gaze locked with his. Determined to handle a situation that was fast escalating out of control, she replied, “Including you?”

He nodded.

“Twice.”

Derek looked at her as if he already knew what it would be like to make love to her. “There must be more to the story,” he said.

Since the last thing she needed to be doing was thinking about kissing him again, or worse, imagining what it would be like to make love with him, Eve lifted her chin and drew a deep, calming breath. Refusing to fixate on the fact that everywhere he was hard, she would be soft, or that everywhere he was male, she’d be female, she challenged, “Really. What makes you think that?”

Regarding her with a devil-may-care glint in his eyes, he pointed out, “You’re not the kind of woman who lets her guard down easily.”

That was certainly true. Although she wished he had not intuited the fact.

“So what happened, the other time?” Derek continued, a tad impatiently.

Eve shrugged and kept her voice matter-of-fact. “I was fresh out of real estate school. Ryan was a classmate of mine, from Southern Methodist University. He had just come into his trust fund and wanted to buy a bachelor pad in Deep Elum. It wasn’t my area of expertise, but the commission was going to be great if I could find what he wanted. Ryan, of course, had no idea what that was, so we had to do quite a lot of looking together.” Eve paused, recalling how naive and hopelessly romantic she had been at the time.

Working to keep the disillusionment out of her tone, she admitted, “One thing led to another, and by the time Ryan closed on his new loft, it was clear there was something between us. Or so we thought.”

The chivalrous, protective look was back in Derek’s eyes. “What happened?” he prodded.

“Exactly what you would think,” Eve stated, with a cavalier attitude she couldn’t begin to really feel. My heart was broken and my spirits were crushed. “Ryan and I came to the mutual conclusion that it had all happened too fast. We didn’t have nearly as much in common as we’d thought, so we ended it. And,” Eve continued, without the slightest bit of irony, “I learned a valuable lesson.”

Derek regarded her gently. “Which was?”

She appreciated his understanding, even as she forced herself to take another step away from him. “I’ll never again make the mistake of thinking the intimacy that develops during a home search will continue once a residence is found.” She splayed a hand across her chest again. “I’m a Realtor. You’re my client.” She paused to let her words sink in. “And that is all.”

She tensed as the first notes of the country ballad “Need You Now” emanated from her cell phone: Loughlin Realty’s emergency ring. “Excuse me.” Eve plucked her phone out of her bag and stalked off. “I’ve got to get this.”

Sasha, the office manager, was on the other end.

Eve listened, hardly able to believe what was being said about her mother. “She what?” Her heart sank. “No! My God, no!” Then she commanded quickly, “Don’t do that. Tell her I’ll be right there! Yes, I’m five minutes away, max. Just hold her off, Sasha. Please.”

Almost as distraught as she’d been the day of her mother’s heart attack, Eve ended the call and grabbed her carryall.

“Everything okay?” Derek followed her, obviously concerned.

Aware she’d already been way too intimate with him, she kept him at arm’s length. “I’ve got an emergency back at the office,” she told him calmly. “You can stay as long as you like. Just lock up before you go, and return the key to the office.”

“You’re sure everything is okay?”

It wasn’t, but what could she say besides the obvious? “I’m sorry, Derek, I’ve got to go.”

Giving him no further chance to question her, Eve rushed out the door.

* * *

THE HOUSE WAS oddly silent and gloomy after Eve’s abrupt departure. Not certain what had happened, but accepting her implication that it was none of his business, Derek walked around, switching off lights and making sure all the doors were locked. He had almost finished the task when he saw Eve’s red-leather-bound iPad sitting on the counter next to the various contractor estimates. She’d left it behind in her haste to get out the door.

He glanced at his watch and saw it was five-thirty. More than likely someone would still be at the office. And he had to return the key in any case.

He finished locking up, got in his car and drove over there. There were two cars in the lot, one of them Eve’s white Mercedes sedan. A taxi was just pulling away. Inside the building, Sasha, the office manager, was in the reception area. The mid-thirtyish woman was as eclectically dressed as always, in a vivid handkerchief hem dress and lace-up high-heeled boots. Face pale, tight platinum curls standing on end, she was pacing and wringing her hands.

In Marjorie Loughlin’s private office, voices rose.

“Mom, you can’t do this!” Eve was insisting emotionally. “You know what the doctor said.”

The well-coiffed woman beside her retorted, “I have a client I’ve been wooing for months coming in later this week.”

“I know that, Mom,” Eve replied in a soul-weary voice Derek had never heard her use before.

Eve’s mother bulldozed on, pacing the office in much the same way Derek had seen Eve do. “And someone has to talk some sense into Flash Lefleur and get his condo adequately staged. Otherwise, who knows if and when his place will ever sell? And with only two weeks left on the listing contract!” Marjorie threw up her bejeweled hands. “I really don’t want to let that one go, Eve.”

“I told you I would take care of that, too,” her daughter said plaintively.

“I want to believe you, honey. But...with all we have at stake here. Especially after what happened with the other sale...” The older woman’s voice trailed off when she saw Derek standing in the doorway.

It was hard to figure out who looked worse, Derek thought. Marjorie Loughlin was pale to the point of being gray, and a little physically shaky to boot. Eve looked anxious and distressed.

“May I help you?” the older woman asked, suddenly all genteel Southern charm.

Eve jumped in to make introductions. “Mom, this is Derek McCabe. Derek, my mother, Marjorie Loughlin. I don’t think the two of you met when you came in the other day.”

They hadn’t, Derek realized.

Marjorie came forward to shake his hand. “Mr. McCabe, what a pleasure to meet you! Eve tells me you went to contract on a house.”

Not really surprised by the zero-to-sixty change in attitude and demeanor—salespeople were legendary for their ability to morph into what was required—he nodded and returned her energetic smile. “I did. Your daughter was amazing, by the way.”

“That’s always good to hear,” Marjorie replied, a bead of perspiration appearing on her elegant brow.

After a tense look at her mother, Eve stepped forward in turn. “What can we help you with?” she asked in a pleasant but businesslike tone.