A Hard Man to Love (7 page)

She looked over at him, and he clenched his jaw to constrain the reaction he had to her. Every time he saw her, he had the same uncurbed reflexive response, like one of Pavlov’s dogs. His body hardened, his senses heightened, and he damn near salivated.

Yes, he wanted his child, but part of him recognized he had wanted her, too, and he had wanted to have exclusive rights to her.

He hated the power she seemed to have over him, and that was part of why he’d agreed to give her a period to get used to the marriage and living together. He needed to prove to himself he wasn’t weak for her and the unchecked lust he felt could be contained. In the time since they broke up, trying to prove any woman would do had been difficult. The physical ache that had encumbered his body since May was for this woman alone, and his efforts to prove otherwise had resulted in unsatisfactory hookups.

She walked toward them and smiled at Roarke, who rose to his feet.

“Welcome to the family. One more hug.” Roarke embraced his new sister-in-law. “I promise that’s the last one for a while.” To Derrick, he said, “We’ll talk later.”

Derrick nodded, though he had no intention of discussing his marriage any further.

Within minutes, he and Eva sat in a hired limo, on their way to start their new life together.

Chapter Seven

The next day, Eva awoke after a surprisingly restful night. She turned over onto her back and stared up at the silk canopy above the bed. She must have been more tired than she realized because as soon as her head hit the pillow, she had fallen asleep.

The mansion was located in Buckhead, an affluent part of the city. Last night they had driven past a number of stately homes, with bright lights bringing attention to immaculate landscaping, as if they all competed for neighborhood bragging rights.

Some of the homes sat at the end of long driveways, so far back they were hidden from street view. The driver had stopped at one of those homes, and the black iron gates swung slowly inward. The car had crawled along the stretch of pavement that bisected acres and acres of the parklike wooded property of her new home. When they rounded a bend, the sprawling estate had come into full view.

She’d visited Derrick in Atlanta before, but they’d stayed at his condo in the middle of the city. This place was an enormous Georgian-style manor that bespoke the wealth Derrick’s father had accrued over the years. In the fountain out front, water poured from the open mouths of two stone fish.

The driver stopped the car in the circular cobblestoned driveway. To her surprise, Derrick had lifted her up and carried her across the threshold, claiming tradition as the reason for doing so. For a moment she forgot how ruthless he could be and enjoyed being held by him. Too much, in fact, practically melting against the sturdiness of his chest. His unique male scent and cologne had surrounded her, making her dizzy with unexpected longing.

Inside, he had made the introductions to the team of staff members present at that hour: Saunders, the property manager, an older black man with a kind face; Svana, the tall, portly Icelandic housekeeper; and a weekend cook who was available any time of the day or night. The personnel not present included the family driver, head landscaper and the gardeners, maids, a chef on call during the week, and two personal assistants—one for Derrick and one for her.

Then they’d made their way up to their suite of rooms, and he’d taken her to her bedroom.
Her
bedroom.

Bemused, Eva had looked at him. “I don’t understand. Why do we have separate rooms? We’re married.” Was this how rich people lived?

“My parents had separate rooms when they were both alive. I think it’s a good idea for us to do the same. Sometimes I work late, and I don’t want to disturb you when I come in. Plus, I like my own space.”

She’d swallowed the bitter pill of disappointment and a few minutes later watched him walk through the connecting door to his own room.

She had told Derrick she wanted time to get used to being married, yet this development surprised her. If they slept in different rooms, it appeared his idea of a normal marriage meant living separate lives and perhaps having the occasional conjugal visit.

Coming back to the present, Eva yawned and stretched, then slipped from beneath the floral linens in the four-poster bed and walked over to the three windows that covered one wall. She drew aside the heavy drapes and squinted against the glare of the bright sun. Outside, the gardeners stayed busy pruning, cutting, and mowing.

After washing up and changing into comfortable clothes, Eva exited her bedroom and walked through the sitting area of their suite of rooms, filled with antique furniture and expensive-looking Impressionist paintings on the walls. The rest of the house she walked through was tastefully decorated in a similar way, with expensive art and traditional furnishings.

After a few tries, Eva found the kitchen. In a house this big, a GPS device would come in handy.

“Good morning, Mrs. Hoffman,” Svana said in a heavily accented voice. “What would you like for breakfast?”

“Don’t go to too much trouble,” Eva replied. She couldn’t wrap her head around the idea of having servants and staff who waited on her hand and foot. Derrick had called this lifestyle comfortable, but living in a mansion in Buckhead was more than comfortable, and she still had to get accustomed to such a swanky style of living. With a shrug, she said, “I’ll be fine with some orange juice and toast.”

“Are you sure, ma’am?” Svana looked disappointed. “How about some scrambled eggs or an omelet to go with your toast?”

“An omelet sounds good. Ham and cheese?”

“Coming right up.” The housekeeper looked so happy, she realized that perhaps part of Svana’s concern had been about pleasing her, the new woman of the house. “Would you like to have breakfast on the terrace?”

Outside the French doors was a table set up on the stone terrace that looked out onto the grounds. “Yes. That sounds like a good idea.”

Once outside, Eva saw the terrace also had a sitting area with couches and a coffee table, perfect for a relaxing day while surveying the gardens.

Svana served her fresh-squeezed orange juice with her meal and beamed when Eva whispered, “Delicious,” after swallowing a morsel of the fluffy omelet.

This became her routine over the next couple of days. If Derrick intended to show her his life wouldn’t change now that they’d married, he did a good job of it. Their interaction was minimal, like roommates who had different work schedules.

While he worked in the study, she filled out thank-you cards for the wedding gifts and unpacked her clothes and other belongings rather than have one of the maids or her personal assistant complete the tasks for her.

Exploring the estate took a lot of time, as well. Saunders and Svana lived in the main house and each had their own self-contained private quarters with a small kitchen and living room. The entire compound consisted of the three-level house, a gazebo, a tennis court, and a guesthouse with a pool. The main house included a gym, a heated indoor swimming pool, home theater, and a recreation space with a ping-pong table and arcade games.

The grounds were her favorite part of the estate, and she delighted in watching the squirrels hop from tree limb to tree limb, and the birds take advantage of the bird feeders dotted across the property. Flowers lined the cobblestoned pathways. Black-eyed Susans and twenty-inch columbine flowers in shades of purple and pink greeted her on her walks.

The in-ground pool Derrick had told her about turned out to be a free-form pool, specially designed to look like a lake and fit into the landscape, with rock projections jutting out of it. Only a short walk from the house, it was a man-made oasis enclosed by bushes and flowers, with comfortable chairs, two cabanas, and a bar.

Her lifestyle had certainly changed.

****

Wrapped in a silk robe, Eva descended the stairs in search of a piece of Svana’s chocolate cake. She hoped there was at least one slice left. If Saunders could help it, there wouldn’t be. He’d wolfed down two humungous pieces earlier, and she wouldn’t be surprised if he came back for more.

The kitchen lights were on, and she thought they’d been left on by mistake until she found Derrick, still dressed in his suit, sitting at the breakfast table in the corner with his head resting on his folded arms.

“Derrick?” She walked over and shook him.

Being a heavy sleeper, it took a minute for him to rouse. A frown marred his forehead as his eyes focused on her.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “What time is it?”

“It’s after one in the morning. You must have come in and sat down for a minute and fallen asleep.”

With a shake of his head, he straightened in the chair. “That’s exactly what happened.”

The fatigue on his face tugged at something inside her. How deeply had Phineas’s death affected him? Even though he wasn’t his biological father, Phineas was the only father Derrick had known all his life.

Maybe taking over his father’s affairs took a greater toll than she realized or he wanted to admit. Without much time to grieve his death, and the strain of keeping the business together resting on his shoulders, it was no surprise he had fallen asleep at the table.

“Are you feeling okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine.”

The clipped response was meant to keep her from asking any more questions, but she couldn’t help but be concerned. She loved—
had
loved him once. It was only natural to still care a little. But she had to remember that Derrick didn’t do emotions, so asking him about his feelings was a waste of time.

“You don’t look well. I know you’re preoccupied with work, but you still have to take care of yourself.”

Surprise lit up his eyes, and his voice held a hint of irony when he said, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you actually cared.”

Stepping back, Eva cleared her throat self-consciously. “Of course I care, Derrick. You’re the father of my child.”

“What other reason would there be, right?”

She had the strange feeling he had expected her to say something else, and somehow she’d disappointed him.

“Don’t worry about me,” he continued. “You’re the one who needs to take care.” He looked at her stomach.

“I’ve been looking into doctors and have narrowed it down to three.”

“You might as well start putting out feelers for a nanny, too. Your assistant can help you find one.”

“I don’t need a nanny.”

He rose to his feet, intimidating at such close proximity. “You won’t
need
a nanny, but it’s a good idea. Managing this estate takes a lot of time, even with help from Saunders and Svana. There’ll also be social engagements we have to attend, and we can’t leave our daughter with just anyone. Whether we hire someone full-time or part-time, it’s good to have one.”

“I want to raise my child myself.” She wanted to be the kind of mother she’d had growing up and couldn’t imagine letting someone else interfere with that special bond.

“Getting outside help is no reflection on the type of mother you’ll be. I’m sure many more women would do it if they could afford to. We certainly can.”

“I’ll think about it.” Eva’s eyes scanned the room in search of the cake, needing a chocolate fix now more than ever.

“A nanny’s role is to help you, not take your place.”

“I said I’ll think about it.”

He fell silent. “It’s not as bad as you think. I had a nanny growing up.”

And look how good you turned out
, Eva thought nastily.

“By the way, expect a call from Cassidy and Celeste. I forgot to mention it, but at the wedding, Celeste said something about taking you to lunch.”

A lunch date sounded like a good idea, and her sisters-in-law had both been friendly and welcoming. “Did she say when?”

“No. She said she would give you a call.” He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Didn’t I tell you already that I’m fine?”

“I’m only asking because you look like death,” Eva snapped. “Forgive me for showing some concern.”

She swung on her heel and marched over to the counter where the rest of the cake sat on the cake stand. If he weren’t in the room, she might have grabbed a handful and shoved it in her mouth. Of course, if he weren’t here, she wouldn’t be so upset that she felt the need to eat the cake in that manner.

“I have a headache,” he mumbled, almost grudgingly. “If it doesn’t go away in a little bit, I’ll take something for it.”

She glanced at him sideways. “Maybe you’re working too hard. You’re never here.”

She yanked open the cutlery drawer.

“Don’t tell me you miss me?” Derrick asked.

Focused on searching for a knife, Eva ignored the question. Behind her, the soles of his expensive leather shoes moved softly across the tile.

“Do you, Eva? Do you miss me?”

The outright question stilled her hands in the drawer. From his tone, she knew he stood right behind her. Closing her eyes, she bit back the words that would leave her vulnerable to him.

Yes, I miss you.

She missed him with a level of intensity she hadn’t felt before moving into this house. On St. Simons Island, she could slowly recover from the breakup and had friends there to occupy her time so she didn’t have to spend almost every waking minute thinking about him.

But here . . . here there was no escape from the thoughts. She tried to stay busy, but there was no way to dull the ache in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t even lie to herself any longer and pretend she felt nothing for him.

Not when she listened for him every night, longed for him to join her for dinner, and wished he would seek out her company just once.

Her fingers tightened around the knife. “You’re fishing for compliments.”

The biting sarcasm she hoped would fill her voice fell flat, but she still got her message across. It was one of the few defenses she had left, because her plan to shield her heart during the period he gave her to get used to married life had failed miserably.