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Glad to see he hadn’t changed his mind about his spur-of-the-moment decision, because deep down she sensed that this was indeed the perfect home for him, she allowed herself to tease, “And here you thought you weren’t the fixer-upper type.”
He gave her a leisurely once-over. “Sometimes it’s necessary to get business out of the way. So you can move on to more important things.”
Puzzled, Eve tilted her head. “Like what?”
The look he gave her was direct, uncompromising, confident. “Asking you out.”
For a second, she was certain she hadn’t heard right. The sparkle in his eyes told her that she had. Her pulse pounding, Eve worked to get air into her lungs. “On a date?” she asked hoarsely.
His sexy smile widening, he inched closer. “That was the general idea,” he said.
Eve pressed her palm to her chest, trying to tamp down the immediate spark of excitement she felt. “I’m flattered.”
Derek sobered. “I don’t want you to be flattered,” he told her huskily. He took her in his arms and pulled her flush against him. “I want you to say yes.”
Chapter Four
Yes was what Eve wanted, too. Even if she would have preferred not to admit it. Before she could stop herself, before she could think of all the reasons why not, she let Derek pull her closer still. His head dipped. Her breath caught, and her eyes closed. And then all was lost in the first luscious feeling of his lips lightly pressed against hers.
It was a cautious kiss. A gentle kiss that didn’t stay gallant for long. At her first quiver of sensation, he flattened his hands over her spine and deepened the kiss, seducing her with the heat of his mouth and the sheer masculinity of his tall, strong body. Yearning swept through her in great enervating waves. Unable to help herself, Eve went up on tiptoe, leaning into his embrace. Throwing caution to the wind, she wreathed her arms about his neck and kissed him back. Not tentatively, not sweetly, but with all the hunger and need she felt. And to her wonder and delight, he kissed her back in kind, again and again and again.
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.
He lifted the iPad in its red leather case, glad his presence had stopped the familial quarreling, at least momentarily. “You left this at the house.”
Eve slanted a glance at her mother, who seemed to be swaying slightly. “Thank you for bringing it.”
Before her daughter could get to her, Marjorie eased into the chair behind her impressive glass-and-chrome desk.
Noticing the way she was trembling, Eve turned paler, too. And it was easy to see why she was worried, Derek thought. Marjorie seemed near physical collapse, though she was trying her best to hide it. “Mrs. Loughlin, are you feeling all right?” he asked with concern.
“I don’t see how Marjorie could be, since she just got out of the hospital,” Sasha cried, obviously near tears.
“And she’s supposed to be in the cardiac rehabilitation unit as we speak,” Eve added pointedly.
Although she was ghostly white, and shaking visibly, Marjorie glared at her daughter and the stressed-out office manager. “I don’t need it.”
Eve glowered back, seeming to forget for a moment they had an audience. “That’s not what I heard, Mom. I just spoke to your cardiologist, and Dr. Jackson said you checked yourself out against medical advice!”
Another dot of perspiration appeared on Marjorie’s forehead, but she wiped it away. “I told the cardiac rehab staff I’d go when my schedule clears up. Right now—” she squared her shoulders and turned to the stack of messages on her desk “—there is work to be done here.”
Eve paced, looking ready to explode. “Work the four other employees of the agency can handle.”
Once again, Derek stepped in as peacemaker. “How long were you supposed to be at the rehab center?” he asked.
Marjorie shrugged and didn’t answer.
“Four weeks,” Eve said. “Then she’s to continue her physical therapy on an outpatient basis and recuperate at home, until Dr. Jackson gives her the all-clear to return to work, which will probably be not until well after the Christmas holidays.”
Derek had been through something similar with his own mother, when pneumonia precluded Josie’s return to work. He poured Marjorie a glass of sparkling water and took it to her. Knowing it was sometimes easier to listen to a neutral third party than a family member, he said gently, “That’s not too much to ask, is it? To follow medical advice, if for no other reason than to prevent any more issues with your heart?”
The older woman hesitated, but still did not give in.
Eve came and knelt down beside Marjorie, clasping her hands. “Come on, Mom. It is the season of giving, after all. And the only gift I want from you...is for you to be well.” Still gazing up at her mother, she released a deep, quivering breath. And then burst into tears.
* * *
“THANK YOU SO much for all you did this evening,” Eve told Derek two hours later, when they finally got back to the office. She glanced across the car at him as he pulled into the parking lot, then paused, her shoulder bag on her lap. “If you hadn’t been here, using all your McCabe charm, I don’t know if I would have been able to get my mother back to the cardiac rehabilitation center at all.”
With the motor still idling, Derek reached across the leather console and took her hand in his. “The important thing is she went, and agreed to stay the duration, providing you take care of everything else. But my question is...” Derek paused, his warm palm still engulfing hers “...who’s taking care of you?”
Eve caught her breath. Once again, her time with him was not going according to script. “What do you mean?”
“Did you even eat dinner last night?”
Eve didn’t know how he could look so cool, calm and collected, when she felt so frazzled. “I...” She paused in turn, unable to remember when she’d eaten last. Warming to his slow, sexy smile, she had to admit reluctantly, “Maybe not.”
As if they had all the time in the world to spend together, he continued his tender inquiry. “Breakfast this morning?”
Aware it had been forever since someone had taken care of her, she flushed, and pushed aside the memory of his kiss. “Toast.”
He gave her a long, steady look. “Lunch?”
Eve fought back a second wave of heat. “A salad.”
“Then you definitely need a solid meal this evening.”
Trying not to think about how good it would feel to have a man like Derek looking after her, Eve folded her arms and retorted, “Since when did you become my personal nutritionist?”
He lifted his wide shoulders and she caught a whiff of his sandalwood-and-pine cologne. “Think of it as me returning all the favors you’ve done me the past few days.”
Eve swallowed around the sudden tightness of her throat. “That was my job.”
Triumph radiated in his smile. “And at the moment, being a gentleman is mine. Come on.” He leaned toward her. “You know a good meal will not just fuel your body, but enable you to care for your mother and work a whole lot more efficiently to boot.”
Unable to dispute all that he was saying, Eve lifted her hands in surrender. “Okay, I’ll go.” She held his gaze resolutely. “So long as we’re both clear this is absolutely not a date.”
Derek appeared affronted. “Of course not.” His eyes twinkled. “It’s just me saying thank-you to my most excellent Realtor.”
Considering the size of the commission she was going to reap from the sale, Eve was the one expressing gratitude. “No. I am taking you out, as a thank-you.”
His lips quirking with amusement, Derek put the Jaguar in reverse. “We’ll fight over the check at dinner.”
“No, we won’t,” Eve said calmly. “Because I’m buying.”
It was, she knew, the best way to set an all-business tone for the evening. And prevent another kiss, or any emotional closeness from materializing again.
