Something About Eve Page 10

  Krist beamed. “No, no. We’re done here. Aren’t we, Eve? Or do you have other questions?”

  If she did, they were lost in the ozone.

  He smiled and nodded, then started to walk away. He stopped by the door, and—as if it was an after-thought—added, “I’ll check in with you tomorrow. I’ve faxed your blood tests to a hematologist at Johns Hopkins.”

  Matt cleared his throat and said, “Um, Dr. Krist.” Eve had never seen him out of his element, but he looked decidedly uncomfortable. “My mother is a nurse in New York. I was just on the phone with her and…if Eve approves, I’d like to keep Mom in the loop. She’s volunteered to act as Eve’s advocate to help her understand what’s going on.” He held up his hands in a conciliatory manner. “Nothing official. Just for moral support.” He shrugged. “She said even the most savvy patient can use an outside opinion to maintain some perspective. And Mom has a lot of great resources, too.”

  He glanced at Eve as if asking for her take on his suggestion.

  “That’s really generous, Matt,” she said, slightly overwhelmed that a stranger would volunteer her time so freely.

  The doctor took a moment to consider. “My only hesitation would stem from your celebrity status, Eve, but if you’re comfortable with it, I have no objection.” He looked at Matt. “Give the nurses all the details and we’ll see what we can do.”

  Once the doctor was gone, Matt walked to Eve’s side. “I’d planned to run that by you first, but I hated to pass up the opportunity to talk to him. Are you sure it’s okay with you?”

  She reached out and touched the back of his hand. “Are you sure your mother wants to do this? I feel like such a nuisance.”

  He pulled his cellular phone out of his pocket and punched in a number. A second later, he held it out to her. “Here. Ask her yourself.”

  Eve gulped and hesitantly put the phone to her ear. The voice that greeted her immediately put Eve at ease. After introducing herself, Irene Ross explained about the advocacy idea and her years of experience. “I’m just an extra set of eyes,” Irene said. “A friend. Nothing more.”

  Eve watched Matt fussing with an extension cord he’d pulled from the pocket of his flight jacket. “I truly appreciate your volunteering to help,” Eve said, “but it’s the holidays. Surely you’re too busy—”

  Irene cut her off. “Nothing is more important to me than family. My Matthew is worried about you. If he worries, I worry.”

  “But, it’s his job to worry.”

  There was a pause. Then Irene chuckled. “Dear girl, you don’t know Matt very well, but I can assure you, you’re more than a job to him—even if he doesn’t realize it himself yet.”

  Eve started to protest, but his mother added, “Matt hasn’t shown this much interest in a woman since his accident. Well…there was that physical therapist, but when you’ve cheated death, you’re entitled to one mistake.”

  Eve felt her face heat up and a tingle of emotion spin through her body. Matt slipped the phone from her weak grip. He studied Eve’s face as he told his mother sternly, “What did you say to her? She looks ready to faint again.”

  Whatever Irene answered, it didn’t appear to sit well with Matt who turned away so Eve couldn’t hear him. She sank back against the pillow and let out a long, slow breath. Matt’s mother was wrong. He had no interest in Eve outside of work, and that was a good thing. The best thing for both of them, really. Eve’s life was a shambles—both healthwise and careerwise. Romance was out of the question.

  “Are you okay?” Matt asked, cutting into her train of thought. “Mom has great heart—she’s the most loving, accepting person I know, but she’s also a mother. She…meddles a little—actually a lot.”

  Eve nodded. “I understand. Ren’s mom was the same way. Her name is Babe. What a character! She had us married before our second date.” She sighed. “We haven’t spoken in ages…just lost touch somehow…”

  He smiled and reached out to take her hand. A soft squeeze. Supportive. Reassuring. Nothing more, she told herself. It lasted a heartbeat, and then he released her and walked toward the tree.

  “Okay,” he said, his voice catching. He cleared his throat and started whistling a Christmas carol. “Let’s plug in this baby and hang some ornaments.”

  “You bought ornaments?”

  His grin reminded her of a little boy on Santa’s lap. “Nope. But I managed to find some of the classiest ones I’ve ever seen.”

  For the first time, Eve noticed a brown paper bag sitting on the floor near the tree. Matt picked it up and opened it with a flourish. “Voilà!” he exclaimed with a magician’s drama. “Is this one pretty or what?”

  He produced a four-inch porcelain ballerina in a faded pink-net tutu. He held it by its golden string, and the dark-haired dancer began to twirl.

  Eve’s eyes filled with tears. They were her ornaments. Ones her mother had sent years before.

  “Mom started a tradition of buying my brother and me a dated ornament each year. That one was when I was twelve, I think.”

  Matt turned it upside down to check the date. “That sounds about right,” he said. “Did you do ballet?”

  She closed her eyes and pictured those early years. “Ballet, tap, jazz—you name it. I did it all. Mom thought it would give me poise.” She looked at him and grinned. “Puberty was hell for me, and I was a terrible klutz in my younger years.”

  “Me, too. Then I discovered football and I had something else to worry about—like getting pummeled by two-hundred-pound tackles.”

  Eve laughed. “What position did you play?”

  He made a face. “Quarterback. High school, only. I wasn’t good enough for college. Besides, by then I knew I wanted to be a cop. I’ve always been an all-or-nothing sort of guy.” His broad, powerful-looking shoulders rose and fell. “Guess that’s just the way I am.”

  He turned away and carefully hung the ballerina on a prominent branch, then glanced at Eve for approval.

  She nodded enthusiastically.

  The next one was a little house with glittery snow on the roof. “My first home. Mom gave it to me when I bought my condo in Roseville.”

  Eve sighed, suddenly missing her parents. “I haven’t put up a tree in years. Just too busy. December’s a horrible time of year for a holiday.”

  Matt smiled. “I stumbled across the box—and I mean that literally, when I went back to your apartment to meet the lock guy.” He stopped what he was doing and fished a shiny new key out the pocket of his denims. “By the way, here’s your new one. I’ll put it in the drawer for now, okay?”

  Eve nodded, but just barely. Fatigue was creeping back.

  She forced her eyes to stay open. He moved to her bedside and back in what looked like slow motion. “When I saw the box, I took it as a sign,” he said. “I stopped at a tree lot on my way here.” His hands made a so-sue-me gesture. “Hey, everybody sends flowers when someone’s in the hospital. I just like to be different.”

  Eve’s chuckle got trapped in her throat; its humming sensation passed through her body, reminding her of how she’d felt when Matt touched her. “You are that, Matt Ross. Different from any other man I’ve ever known.”

  There was a moment of awkward silence, but Matt banished it by plugging in the cord. Tiny white lights twinkled to life. The tears in her eyes made them look like crystal moonbeams. She wanted to stay awake and supervise the placement of ornaments, but she couldn’t.

  “Thank you, Matt. For everything.”

  For saving me, she silently added.

  THREE DAYS LATER, Eve gazed at her little tree with renewed appreciation. Since putting it up Thursday evening, Matt had added something new each time he visited her. This morning—Christmas Eve morning—he’d brought an angel for the top. Not your traditional angel, either, she thought, a warm feeling spreading through her.

  “I can’t believe you found a dark-haired angel,” she said, chewing on the last of her breakfast croissant—another gift from Matt.<
br />
  “I found it in a shop in Little Five Points,” he said, glancing at the tree. “Ray, your doorman, knows everything there is to know about this city.” A smile lifted one corner of his mouth in the rueful way she liked so much.

  She was going to miss him something fierce, but she knew better than to tell him that. “When does your flight leave?” Eve asked, trying to sound upbeat. Now that she was feeling stronger, it didn’t take too much effort. “You can’t be late.”

  “I have time. I’m taking a taxi. I left the rental car in your garage. Like I told you, I’ll be back as soon as they give you walking papers.”

  His light chuckle settled just below her tummy. “Who needs to walk?” she said impulsively. “I feel as if I could fly.”

  His eyebrows lowered as if something was bothering him.

  “What?” Eve asked.

  “I just can’t quite believe this miracle recovery. I mean, yesterday morning you looked a little better, but you were still…”

  “Sickly,” she supplied.

  Eve sat up a little straighter. She took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders, reveling in the action. She couldn’t quite believe it herself. Within thirty minutes after her transfusion she was sitting up in bed; two hours later she was standing. By the time Matt returned from his shopping excursion, she was walking—with help.

  “Even my mother was surprised,” he said, running his hand across the back of his neck.

  She loved watching him move—the simplest gesture seemed so healthy and sexy. But she made herself look past him to the bright scene outside the window. The sun was shining; a gusty wind batted around the treetops. Matt’s cheeks had been pink when he came in.

  “Looks like a good day to travel,” she said. She started to get out of bed, but Matt stopped her.

  “Have you been cleared to walk alone?”

  His concern touched her, but she ignored the feeling. He pitied her; he was probably worried that she’d have a relapse, and he’d have to spend more time in Atlanta. “I’m taking it easy,” she said a bit testily. “I was only going to the chair.”

  “Sorry,” he said, a sheepish look on his face. “Can I help?”

  Yes. Of course. Let me lean on you. “No, thanks.”

  Eve pulled the edges of her robe together and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She tossed her head, enjoying the feel of clean hair brushing against her shoulders. The motion undermined her equilibrium. Bright lights flashed behind her eyes and she felt herself wobble.

  “Eve,” he said, suddenly at her side. “Don’t push it. You’re not a hundred percent, yet.”

  She knew that. “It’s not my fault they gave me the blood of a sixteen-year-old,” she grumbled in jest. “I have energy to spare.”

  “If you lie back down, I’ll let you open your Christmas presents,” he said, his tone teasing.

  “Presents? Oh, Matt, no,” Eve wailed. “You’ve done so much already.” She felt pressure building in her sinuses. She couldn’t cry; she’d vowed to be positive and strong so he wouldn’t feel sorry for her. “And I don’t have anything for you. I tried. This morning. But I couldn’t find anyone who’d deliver today. Even for double or triple their normal rates. They laughed at me.”

  A dark look passed across his face, and he turned to walk to a large shopping bag that he’d set just inside the door. Eve hadn’t even noticed it until now. In his navy cords and festive sweater, he looked so incredibly handsome. How could she possibly care so much for someone she’d known less than a week?

  Drawing on years of practice, Eve put on a public facade to hide the ache inside. She knew Matt’s true feelings about her, and she would make this leave-taking as easy as possible for him. It was the least she could do.

  Matt kept his back to Eve long enough to corral his wayward emotions. He simply hadn’t expected her to look so…vibrant this morning. Yesterday afternoon, he’d had his first warning of how beautiful her hair looked when it was clean and brushed. But this morning the silky black tresses draped over her shoulders like a veil—a shiny contrast to the teal velour fabric of her robe.

  Matt had been commissioned the day before to locate Eve’s favorite robe and nightgown—even if he had to “open every damn box in the place.” He peeked over his shoulder. She sat on the bed like a queen. Chin high. Hands folded in her lap.

  Regal. Remember that. She’s not your type, and you sure as hell aren’t hers.

  Her comment about trying to get gifts delivered sounded like the Eve he’d been expecting to meet when he arrived in Atlanta. Well, not quite. She didn’t come off bossy or demanding; but she was a person who knew what she wanted and had the money to back it up.

  There wasn’t anything wrong with that, he told himself. But it made his gifts seem a bit—cheap. Oh, well, bite the bullet and get it over with so you can fly home, he told himself.

  “I got you a couple of things. Little things. Silly things,” he said, rising with care. His knee had been throbbing all morning, and he wasn’t looking forward to his cramped commercial flight, but Ashley was expecting him. And he wasn’t about to disappoint his daughter.

  Blinking as if to refocus her thoughts, Eve looked at him and smiled. Something was different about this smile. It seemed practiced. Artificial.

  He almost changed his mind, but then she spotted the little gift bag dangling from his fingers. Her smile blossomed. Her eyes lit up. “Isn’t it adorable?” she exclaimed, reaching for the bag adorned with a goofy-looking moose with a string of colorful lights tangled in his antlers.

  “It reminded me of my Christmas lights back home,” Matt said, pleased by her girlish laughter.

  Grinning, she fished inside and withdrew a plump tube of lavender-scented body lotion.

  “It’s supposed to be calming,” she said, looking at him with a smile that rocked him off center.

  She snapped open the lid and rubbed a dab on her arms and at her neck. “Mmm, I love it,” she murmured, closing her eyes to inhale. Her eyelids still retained a purplish hue. “What do you think?” She extended her arm for a sniff.

  Matt frowned. The scent brought back the memory of her sleeping beside him that first night.

  “Am I taking too long?” she asked, apparently seeing his expression.

  “No,” he answered. Too sharply. “Take your time.”

  She smiled tentatively and peeked over the lip of the second bag he handed her. “Hmm…this looks promising,” she said, withdrawing a gift-wrapped rectangle. She worked her fingernail under the flap, extricating a slim book with a colorful cover.

  Silently she read the title then quickly flipped it over to scan the back blurb. “A Map of Your Night World. A learner’s guidebook to dreams.” She looked up, a slightly stunned expression on her face. “Did I tell you about my dreams?”

  He shrugged. “You mentioned something. I know when I was coming off medication…” He caught himself. Now wasn’t the time to get into his history. “I had some pretty heavy dreams for a while. I thought this might help make sense of them.”

  Her expression of wonder made him uncomfortable, so he reached behind his back for a box wrapped in shiny blue and gold foil.

  She shook her head in an innocent gesture that made her hair shimmy provocatively. “Ooh, this one’s too pretty to open.”

  “It’s just paper. Dig in.”

  She sighed in defeat and ripped it down the middle. Paper flew in every direction. Matt held his breath as she removed the lid of the box. Nestled on white tissue paper was a set of mohair mittens, hat and muffler. Ruby red. Soft as kittens.

  “Oh, my goodness. Matt,” she exclaimed, pulling on the hat. Red on black—just as dramatic as he’d envisioned. She tossed the muffler around her neck with verve then plunged her hands in the mittens. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

  He shrugged, trying not to show how pleased he was that she liked his gift. “I thought the color would look good with your hair. And you’re going to need something to wear home besides a blan
ket.”

  Unshed tears made her eyes luminous, and it was all Matt could do to keep from kissing her.

  “Oh, Matt, this is all so special. Come here. Let me give you a hug.”

  Hug, Ross. Got that?

  He tried. But the touch of her hand cloaked in mohair, the scent of lavender. Maybe the fact this was Christmas and she was in the hospital. But when she put her arms around his neck and pulled him down for the obligatory hug, Matt moved incrementally to the middle. Instead of a kiss on the cheek, she delivered his kiss on the lips.

  Her warm, wonderful lips. Almost healed. Soft and full. A gift he hadn’t asked for, and most definitely couldn’t return.

  Matt made himself back away. He shrugged on his jacket.

  “Umm…Merry Christmas,” he said inanely.

  Eve smiled, looking as radiant as the angel atop her tree. “It is—very merry—thanks to you.”

  Feeling as giddy as a thirteen-year-old, Matt shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat and encountered a piece of paper. “By the way,” he said opening the folded sheet of stationery. “I copied down the messages on your answering machine. The majority were calls from your parents and Sara, but some were from friends. See?”

  Leaning down, he placed the sheet on her lap. “There were a few—four to be exact—that bothered me. Same voice. Raspy. Sounded mechanically altered.” Although nothing in the messages was explicitly threatening, the general tone had given Matt the creeps. “The voice kept referring to you as ‘Even Mine.”’

  Eve didn’t answer. She pushed the paper away and rolled to her side facing the wall.

  “Eve,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t shut me out. Could this be Barry…or maybe a stalker? Maybe we should notify the police—”

  She shivered. “No, Matt. It’s not Barry. It’s…it’s just a prank. Let it go. Please.”

  The desperation in her plea made him agree. How could he fight her? But Matt hated loose ends and he planned to tie up this one the minute he returned to Atlanta.

  CHAPTER SEVEN