Enticing Eve: Scandalous Secrets, Book 2 (24 page)

“Grandmamma,” Eve leaned against the table, her smile bright. “Where have you been? We sent Durstan in search of you ages ago. You are just in time for our game.”

The Dowager Viscountess halted mid-step. “You don’t wish to eat dessert?” she asked, her timbre child-like as she pointed towards the door.
 

Colin cleared his throat to stifle his amusement, at both the Viscountess’s comment and the pout she was now wearing like the latest French fashion.

“I fear dessert must wait,” Eve returned her attention towards Colin before winking at him. “Mister MacAlistair and I have much riding on the outcome of this game. Do we not, Mister MacAlistair?”

Why did Colin’s heart flip upon hearing Eve’s last statement? Was it because it referred to their union? Was it her gaze? Perhaps. Her eyes were now a lush green and more breathtaking than any emerald he had ever seen, even the one currently residing in his pocket – the one all but burning a hole through it.
 

God, he was desperate to place it on her finger.

Fiona tugged his arm, interrupting his silent contemplation.
 
“What are the stakes of this game?”
 

“Our betrothal, or not – it depends upon who is the victor.” Eve’s smile was bright as she picked up her cue.
 

“Oh, no,” the Viscountess straightened, her tone dire. “My dear boy, I fear you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“No counseling my competition, if you please,” Eve chided.
 

Colin winked at the Dowager Viscountess, “Have no fear. I will be easy on her.”

“My granddaughter is not the one I’m concerned about,” the Viscountess murmured as she settled upon a leather sofa, her regal profile displaying a hint of concern.

Her words and their implications caused Colin’s confidence to waver.

“Shall we begin?” Eve inquired.

He chalked the tip of his cue, “Ladies first.”

“Thank you, but I must insist you go first,” Eve’s tone was syrupy sweet as she batted her eyelashes at him.
 

If Colin didn’t know better, he’d think he was being played.
 

Gripping his cue, he bent over the table, lining up then taking his first shot, sending the balls scattering across the table with a loud symphony of clanking marble. One rolled into the far pocket.

“Excellent form! I can see you’re quite skilled at the sport,” Eve teased him, studying the position of the balls on the wool-lined tabletop.

“Impressed?”

Eve arched a honey-colored brow.
 
“You’ll have to do more than that to impress
me
, Mister MacAlistair.”

A thousand inappropriate comments raced through Colin’s mind, each one referencing how he’d impress Eve when they were alone beginning with what articles of clothing he’d remove first and ending with how he intended to devour every inch of her. Instead, Colin tugged at his cravat well aware that this was going to be a long night. He lined up his next shot and missed.

“Tut, tut,” Fiona said.

“Yes, that was bad luck,” Eve added as she bent over the table. From Colin’s angle, he could see a hint of her milky flesh under her bodice. Heat surged through his loins.

Eve’s gaze locked with his. She paused, the corners of her full lips curving into an alluring smile. Good God, she was driving him mad! Worse yet, he was now certain she was doing so on purpose.
 

He had never seen her look more alluring than at that very moment, nor had he ever wanted her as much. He was tempted to forget their bet and take her to Gretna Green tonight or, worse yet, make love to her on the billiard table first.

Her grandmother coughed, dousing his fantasy like an icy rain.

Gripping her cue with confidence, Eve pushed it through the
V
shape she created with her fingertips. With one graceful stroke, the cue ball collided with several others. Colin’s eyes widened as he watched not one but two balls sink into the same pocket.

The game was on.

He glanced up at Eve to find her quite pleased with herself. She chalked her cue stick, mimicking him by asking, “Are you impressed?”
 

Always.

Colin wasn’t certain what he expected, but the fact that Eve would be a serious threat to him came as a complete surprise. She matched his skill at billiards, sinking each shot with ease.

“Did you know that the sport of billiards can be traced back to the late fourteenth century?” Eve inquired.

He failed to look in her direction, instead murmuring, “I had no idea,” as he concentrated on lining up his next shot.

“I read it once,” She leaned into him, whispering just as his cue was about to make contact with the white ball, “in bed.”

His cue inclined to the right. Though a minimal degree, it was enough to make Colin miss.

She clucked her tongue. “Tough break, I was certain that attempt would be successful. You know what I think, Mister MacAlistair?” she asked, her tone teasing. “I think you may indeed lose this particular bet.”

“Don’t count me out just yet,” he loosened his cravat, speaking with more confidence than he felt.

Eve studied him as she lined up her next shot. Their gazes locked and she refused to break their eye contact even when she sank yet another ball.

The expression on Colin’s face told her he was indeed intimidated. No, upon further observation, he looked miserable, like a little boy whose family pet had just passed away. As much as Eve was enjoying teasing him, she refused to be cruel. So she missed her next shot in a deliberate attempt to bolster his spirits.

“Would you like to know what I think?” he asked as he studied the position of the balls.

She leaned against her cue stick. “I am waiting with bated breath.”

“I think that you want to marry me,” he said as he sunk two, each in a different pocket.

“Do you?” Eve leaned against her cue stick. “Then why, pray tell, have I not accepted your offer if I am so inclined?”

“Because you are frightened and because your pride won’t allow it.” Two balls remained, and he was close to victory. Colin sunk his next ball. It was down to one. As if sensing the significance, the Viscountess walked around the table, inspecting it.

He had Eve pegged, of course but she refused to give up on her ruse, instead feigning affront, “My pride? Of all the pompous, presumptuous—”

“Alliteration won’t win this game for you,” Colin teased as he lined up his next shot … and missed.

The Viscountess gasped.

Eve’s next attempt was successful, sinking the ball into the pocket with ease.

One ball remained.
 

Colin watched the cue ball until it slowed to a stop. Although not an easy shot, it was one Eve could make. The Viscountess must have noted it as well, for she walked over to Colin and patted his back, whispering, “I am sorry, dear boy. You gave it your all.”

He nodded.

The energy in the room, once fun and playful, was now morose. It was clear that Colin knew Eve was capable of making the shot.
 

What he didn’t suspect was that she wouldn’t.

Eve shot him one of her over-confident smiles, the one that said she found him quite amusing.

“Alliteration, indeed,” her tone was light as she hit the cue ball, watching it collide with her target then head for the pocket before bouncing off the bumper right beside it.

She studied him, noting his intake of breath and the unabashed optimism now emanating from his bright indigo eyes. It was the first time since Colin’s return that she’d witnessed such a reaction, and it was as unexpected as a bright star shooting past other constellations in the nighttime sky.
 

In that simple reaction, Eve realized that she was Colin’s hope. Perhaps he was the same man she had known. Perhaps he simply needed her to find it within him and draw it out of him.

The cue ball lined up to the easiest shot possible for him. They were all aware of it, and Colin, as if attempting to make her loss easier to bear, offered, “Barring a natural disaster, you know I will make this shot. We can end this now.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she smiled at his attempt to salvage her pride, loving him even more for it. Little did he know that she already protected herself, for this game allowed her to marry him, without Colin ever discovering what a besotted fool she remained.

Eve offered him a wink before insisting, “You will make that shot and accept the victory you’ve worked hard to earn, and I will take solace in knowing that I was a contender to the very end.”

Fiona stood beside Eve then kissed her granddaughter’s cheek. As Colin sank the ball into the pocket, the Viscountess whispered, “You made the right decision, darling.”

Eve nodded, knowing it to be true.

“Why don’t we retire to the study where a marvelous dessert awaits us?” No sooner had the words escaped the Dowager Viscountess’s lips than Colin shot her a wry glance, causing the kind woman to defend her dear cook. “It is quite delicious, I assure you. It may not resemble cake in form or texture, but it tastes like cake just the same.”

She walked towards the door, calling over her shoulder, “I shall meet you in the study, darlings.”

“We should straighten up,” Eve suggested as she reached for the ivory box that housed the billiard balls.

Grabbing her arm, Colin turned her towards him, pressing her against his full length. The intimate action caused her heartbeat to quicken.
 

“You were a formidable opponent, Miss Weston,” he said as he leaned against the billiard table, his hands resting on the small of her back.

“As were you,” she pronounced, the scent of his masculine cologne tantalizing her, causing her pulse to quicken. She studied his chiseled visage noting that pride was etched in his every feature.

Colin was proud of her, she realized.

Eve’s heart swelled until she thought it would burst. God help her, she wanted this man more than anything on Earth.

Stroking his jaw with her fingertips, Eve whispered, “Kiss me.”

Colin was certain he’d imagined it until she leaned into him. His blood pumped harder and faster as she closed her eyes, puckering her heart-shaped lips.
 

“Look at me first,” he murmured in a raspy voice, tipping her chin then tracing a path down her neck with his fingertips. Her quick intake of breath sent a surge of desire through his loins.

Eve’s eyes locked with his as she leaned into him even further, pressing against his now throbbing manhood. Though he was certain she had no idea what she’d aroused within him, it was his undoing nonetheless.

Colin’s hands moved upwards, to the nape of her neck as he pressed his lips against hers. She was prepared for him, her lips allowing his tongue full access.

It was a kiss unlike any other he’d experienced, more sensual than anything he’d ever known. Her tongue sought his then massaged it gently as her hands trailed up his arms, resting on his shoulders. Her perusal caused Colin’s skin to prickle under his evening finery. It took all of his self-restraint not to devour her.

As if Eve sensed the desire simmering within him, she stoked the flames by massaging his tongue with hers as her hands traced a path up his broad shoulders to the nape of his neck where she buried her fingers in his hair, melding her body to his.
 

All the while, she offered her heart, her love without reciting the words. Her adoration was evident in every passionate kiss and each gentle caress.
 

He was certain of it.

Colin had a choice: fight for the woman he wanted or not. He was exhausted – tired of pretending that he was marrying Eve for the sole purpose of saving her reputation.
 

The time for protecting his heart passed long ago.

He loved her, and would be lost without her. Sure he had survived once, albeit barely, in his attempt at sparing Eve from the disease that was born of his parents’ deceptions. He wanted to purge himself of the plague his parents had inflicted upon him – their sins and scandals. Instead, he wound up making everything worse by leaving.
 

Having stared death in the eye many times over, Colin knew what he became without Eve in his life. Loving her, he was certain, would salvage his battered soul. Her love would purge him of the horrors he had experienced.
 
Like a soft, spring rain, Eve refreshed his weary spirit

If that weren’t cause enough to say the words aloud, the fact remained that Eve did deserve the truth, didn’t she? After all this time and everything she endured, it was the least Eve merited.

Tearing his lips from hers, he admitted, “I love you.”
 

Love me too,
he silently beseeched her, praying that Eve’s grandmother was correct, that she did indeed still love him.
Please love me, too.

Eve grabbed his lapels and tugged him closer to her. “And I love you, Colin.”

“Then marry me,” he coaxed, cupping her face in her hands. “Please, put me out of my misery.”