Something About Eve Page 16

  He let go of her hand once to swim down to investigate something glittering on a gnarled root. A bracelet with a broken clasp.

  “Do you want it?” he asked.

  Treading water, she reached to unzip her wet suit. Matt stopped breathing. The zipper stuck, and Eve looked at him questioningly. He moved to help her. As the tops of his fingers brushed against her skin, he felt the sensation pass through his hand straight to his groin.

  He dropped the golden links inside. She wiggled to accommodate it, and Matt experienced a second piercing jab. He rezipped and backpedaled a safe distance.

  “This is where the underground river comes in,” he said, pointing to a wall of rock. “We should start back.”

  Eve didn’t argue. He sensed her fatigue even though she tried to hide it. His need to care for her outweighed his libido, so he pulled her close and demonstrated how to let the underwater river work for them.

  “Kick your feet out in front of you,” he said, pulling her into the space between his open legs. “We’ll do it in tandem.”

  Although she seemed startled, she quickly settled in place, her elbows resting on his thighs. She relaxed with a sigh, but for Matt, the only comfort would be when they were safely out of the water and Eve was fully clothed.

  EVE AWOKE SUDDENLY. It took two blinks to realize that what she was seeing wasn’t a dream—a beautiful, picture-postcard dream. After they returned her wet suit and snorkel, Eve had suggested they have something to drink at Casa Cenote, the little open-air restaurant he’d mentioned. He’d agreed after making her promise not to move from the white plastic chaise on the beach in front of the thatched-roof palapa.

  She glanced at the large glass globe on the table beside her. The ice had melted, leaving a reddish-pink soup—her very tasty virgin cranberry margarita—barely an inch from the rim. Matt’s chair was empty, as was the lone beer bottle beside her glass.

  Drawing herself up, Eve retucked her beach towel above her breast and looked around. The sun was just about out of sight; the evening breeze feathered her hair off her face.

  “Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” Matt hailed, walking toward her.

  He was dressed in belted shorts she hadn’t seen before and a white, short-sleeve shirt. His black hair was neatly combed although the wind played with it coquettishly.

  “You look great,” she said once he’d joined her.

  “Shower and a change of clothes. You were sleeping so peacefully I decided to run home and change, but Gary, the owner, says you’re free to use the shower in the empty casita. I brought your clothes.” He held up the string bag he used for groceries. Eve spotted her tropical print dress, once a sexy little number she’d enjoyed wearing. As skinny as she was, it probably looked better on the hanger.

  “Does that mean we’re staying for dinner?” she asked, slowly getting to her feet.

  “Yes. I reserved a table and two lobsters, although you can order something else if you’d rather.” He held out his arm. “Let me walk you up there.”

  Eve started to protest but changed her mind. She wasn’t fully recovered yet. She had to accept the fact, galling though it was.

  They climbed to the walkway and he directed her to the closest of the little stucco casitas, or guest cabins. The door was open.

  “Do you want me to wait for you here or at the table?”

  Eve took the tote bag from him. This might be her first chance to show him she was well enough to consider…well, maybe she wasn’t well enough for that, but she was well enough to kiss.

  “Go. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He turned to leave. “And, Matt…” When he looked back, she smiled at him and said, “Thanks.”

  His grin made her insides churn.

  “Save it for Atlanta, remember?” he said, brushing the backs of his fingers against her cheek.

  MATT ATE A CHIP dipped in fresh, spicy salsa. Mouth tingling, he reached for his beer the same instant he spotted Eve. “Uh-oh,” he groaned, watching her stroll toward the open-air dining area. The string bag dangled in one hand, her sandals in the other. She moved with such grace a song popped into his head—something about a girl from some unpronounceable town.

  The dress had been a mistake, he saw. He’d grabbed it because it was the longest. How was he to know the material would drape so fluidly about her body? The scoop neckline had looked innocent enough on the hanger. Where the hell was the bra he’d packed? Still in the bag by the looks of her nipples highlighted by the cool breeze pressing the soft fabric to her body.

  She spotted him and waved the hand with the sandals. Her smile seemed to light up the night and Matt sensed men at adjoining tables turning their attention her way. He scrambled to his feet and hurried toward her. She could be recognized anywhere—even Mexico.

  He was halfway across the concrete platform when a napkin tripped him up. His knee buckled. Feeling ungainly and awkward, he grabbed the back of a chair. The plastic chair might have crumpled beneath his weight if Eve hadn’t reached him at that moment.

  She slipped into the crook of his arm as if she’d been crafted to serve as his crutch. Her shoulder provided the anchor he needed to get his knee realigned.

  “That was fun. Can we do it again?” she teased, resting her hand on his chest.

  “Maybe not.” Matt could tell from her puzzled look that his voice had been gruff. “You’re not strong enough to be carrying me around. Let’s give it a few weeks.”

  Her smile returned. “Okay. But I should warn you, now that I’ve discovered your weakness, I will probably have to use it to my advantage. It’s my nature.”

  Her tone was teasing, but for some reason her words bothered him. He escorted her to the table. His hand went automatically to her lower back. Unfortunately the back of the dress dipped low and his fingers brushed bare skin. She shivered slightly.

  “There’s a sweater in the bag,” he said.

  “I know. Thanks. You’re the most thoughtful man I’ve ever known. Even Ren wouldn’t have been able to go to my closet and put together the right combination of things for me. I’m impressed.”

  He sat across from her. After signaling the waiter to bring her a fresh drink, he said, “It must come from getting dragged into every shopping mall in the country with Ashley. Is shopping genetic? A female sort of hunter-gatherer urge?”

  Her light laugh was musical, and it helped him relax. She seemed refreshed and perky from her nap and shower. She might even be up to a walk on the beach after dinner—if Matt dared risk it.

  The waiter returned with her big, pink drink.

  “Could be,” she said. “But I think it’s chemical. I know I go through withdrawal when I haven’t been shopping in a while.” Her eyebrows waggled. “In fact, I should warn you. I haven’t been in a store in months. Things could get ugly if you don’t take me shopping soon.”

  She leaned forward and took the straw in her mouth. Drawing on it, she closed her eyes and sighed.

  “Mmm, yummy. Can I have two more?”

  Matt shook his head—more to clear his overheated libido than to nix the idea. “You’ll spoil your appetite. And you need to eat.”

  “You’re probably right. In fact, we’ll assume you are, but it’s my choice. Right or wrong.” She looked at him over the rim of the glass. “Okay?”

  Matt nodded. Fortunately, he didn’t have time to stew about her words because the waiter returned with two of the biggest lobsters Matt had ever seen.

  “You could feed a family of three for a week on this,” Eve exclaimed.

  Matt nudged a saucer of drawn butter her way. “Eat hearty. I promised my mother I’d put some meat on your bones.”

  His remark drew a frown, but the moment passed with her first bite of succulent lobster. The sea breeze made the light from the tiki lamps dance on the water. Music, soft and foreign, emanated from a distant stereo. Although Matt couldn’t understand the words, he knew a love song when he heard one. The romantic setting wasn’t lost on him, but he was determined to do
the right thing, even if the wrong thing sounded a whole lot better.

  “This is incredible, Matt. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so alive,” she said, toasting him with her glass.

  He’d have given anything to be able to reach out and kiss that perfect mouth with a tiny drop of butter glistening in the corner, but he forced himself to look away. Think business. Client. Job.

  “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I can’t help it,” Eve said softly. “You’re my hero, Matt. You saved my life. And I thank you.”

  He cleared his throat and pushed back his chair. He had to stop this craziness now, before it got any further out of control.

  “If you want to thank someone, Eve, thank Sara. I only did what I was hired to do. “ He glanced around and let out a harsh, ironic chuckle that didn’t come close to expressing the gut-level frustration he felt. “It’s a tough job, but somebody—”

  Eve jumped to her feet before he could finish. Her look held reproach and hurt, but she pivoted and walked away with all the grace of a princess. She hopped from the raised dais and disappeared into the night.

  Matt swallowed against the sour taste in his throat. He threw down enough pesos to cover the meal and tip, then rose. Before following after her, he tested his knee to make sure it wouldn’t trip him up. For once, it felt stronger than the rest of him. But then, it was made of titanium.

  I wonder if anyone ever thought of making a titanium heart, he thought, slamming down the last of his beer. I’d be first in line.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  DESPITE MATT’S EFFORTS to make amends, both last night and this morning, Eve’s ego was still smarting. His crack about “a tough job” was probably just the slap in the face she’d needed to curb her attraction to him. Unfortunately, he seemed so genuinely remorseful—even offering to take her to see one of the Mayan pyramids—she was having a hard time maintaining her haughty distance.

  “Eve, would you please slow down? This isn’t a race.”

  She ignored him. She’d had enough of being treated like an invalid and she’d damn well slow down when she was good and ready. She marched ahead, ignoring the quiver of her protesting calves and the perspiration coursing down her neck and arms. Her white eyelet blouse stuck to her like a leech, and her walking shorts chafed her thighs, but she wasn’t about to stop.

  “Would it help if I apologized? Again,” he added under his breath.

  “I told you in the car. I don’t need an apology. If you’re not interested in me beyond a professional—ahem, make that business—relationship, that’s fine.” Eve hated the way her voice caught on the word fine.

  Matt swore softly and jogged to her side. She knew his knee was bothering him, but ever since his stiffly polite lecture earlier that morning explaining why it was “professionally important” to maintain a “personal distance,” Eve wouldn’t have dreamed of asking why his right knee was laced with purplish scars.

  “Dammit, Eve,” he barked. “Slow down. Are you trying to have a relapse?”

  That one word stopped her in her tracks. No. She never wanted to return to that brink of nothingness.

  Breathing hard, she leaned forward, putting her hands on her knees. Matt sighed. She heard him fiddling with something but didn’t look up until a wholly unexpected funnel of cool water broke across her neck. “Oh!” she exclaimed, arching her back.

  When she straightened, the water diverted to her chest. The trickles between her breasts brought a shiver when she noticed where Matt’s gaze was riveted. Her nipples puckered from something far different than a chill. “That probably wasn’t smart,” she conceded, taking a deep breath.

  Their eyes met. Matt wore a sleeveless gray tank top. Perspiration ringed the neckline where his sunglasses hung. A lightweight backpack was looped carelessly over one shoulder. “No, it wasn’t,” he said, passing her the water bottle. “Probably not any smarter than coming here today. I thought it would be cooler in the jungle, but without the coastal breeze, it’s like an oven.”

  Eve brushed back wisps of hair sticking to her face then took a drink. She closed her eyes and squirted an extra blast on her face. She shook her head, thankful she’d plaited her hair in a French braid. “It’s beautiful, though,” she said, handing him the plastic bottle. “I’m glad we came.”

  She arched her back to release some tension in her lower back and legs and looked around. The jungle had surprised her—a living, breathing entity on the prowl, overtaking even the most accomplished of civilizations in time.

  “And I apologize for being such a twit. I’m probably living up to every expectation you had of me—just another prima donna celebrity.” She was afraid to peek for fear he’d nod yes.

  When she finally got up enough nerve to look, his lips were curved in a gentle, loving smile. “You aren’t anything like I expected. Which, unfortunately, is the problem.” Eve’s heart started behaving foolishly again.

  “I really have been acting like an idiot, Matt. You’ve been nothing but up-front and honest with me. It’s been my experience that most men say yes first then remember all the reasons they should have said no.” She tried to shrug off her disappointment. “Let’s forget about everything and just enjoy the day. Our last day in paradise. And it’s New Year’s Eve. That’s gotta count for something.”

  The shadows cast by the thick canopy of jungle made it hard to read his face, but she thought she read disappointment along with resolve. “Okay, but can we do it slowly?”

  “Sure,” she teased. “Right after you get me to the top of the pyramid.”

  Matt’s head rolled back and he groaned. “Eve, you promised. Ground-level tourism. Period. That’s why we’re here instead of Tulum. I knew you’d want to climb the pyramids to see the ocean.”

  Eve wasn’t positive she had enough energy to make it back to the car, let alone climb a pyramid, but she wasn’t above teasing Matt a little. She took his hand and tugged him along the path. “Please, Matt. We can do it slowly. I’ll stop every two feet and drink water.”

  His hand felt big and sweaty, but his strength seemed to replenish her dwindling supply. They rounded a bend in the path. A group of German-speaking tourists met them and enthusiastically pointed in the direction of a small wooden sign bearing the name Nohoch-Mul, Coba’s centerpiece attraction. “We’re close, Matt. Please.”

  Matt grudgingly followed, but Eve could sense his disquiet. He approached the ancient site like a man facing a hangman’s noose. Finally, she took pity on him. Time to end the joke. “Wow. That’s bigger than it looks in the guidebook.” She did an abrupt about-face and plopped her bottom on the step. “You were right, Matt. I can’t do this.”

  His left eyebrow twitched suspiciously. “Really?”

  She nodded. “The whole point of this trip was to get away from publicity. Can you picture what would happen if I made it to the top then passed out or something? Do they have Rescue 911 in Mexico?”

  Matt heaved a sigh of obvious relief and sat down beside her. “Smart move. I seriously doubt if I could carry you down.”

  But he would have given it a good try. Eve swallowed a bitter taste in her mouth. Maybe she had turned into a prima donna. Somewhere along the way, she’d started thinking about herself alone. Me, me, me. I have to get away from Barry’s media blitz. I want to go swimming. I want to go sight-seeing… I want to make love to Matt. He was right to put on the brake. He was just what she needed to keep her grounded.

  A smile tugged at her lips. Me, again.

  “What are you grinning about?” he asked.

  She heaved a sigh and leaned back, resting her elbows on the rough stone of the step behind her. “I’ve decided you were right to give me a little comeuppance last night.” He started to protest, but she stopped him with a touch on his shoulder. “I don’t know if it comes from being a celebrity—” she made little air quotes “—or from being sick, but I was starting to think this was all about me.”

  She snorted. “Talk about being out of touch wi
th reality. There is a real world out there. And it’s spinning around quite nicely without worrying about poor little me. Jeesch.”

  Before Matt could say anything, a heavyset woman in white walking shorts and a strawberry-colored T-shirt let out a high-pitched squeal and pointed at them.

  “That’s Eve Masterson.”

  The woman and the cluster of tourists around her suddenly engulfed Eve and Matt. He put his arms around Eve’s shoulders protectively and helped her rise. “It is you, isn’t it?” the woman asked suspiciously. “My husband said no way, you’re too skinny, but I was sure it was you.”

  All Eve could do was nod. When prepared, Eve could handle curious fans, but this one had caught her off guard.

  “See there, Albert,” the woman bellowed triumphantly. “I told you so. It is too her.”

  Matt gently nudged Eve to one side—toward a small opening of escape.

  “You don’t mind if I take your picture, do you?” the woman asked, lifting her camera without waiting for an answer. “Nobody back in Center City is going to believe this.”

  “No, ma’am, you may not,” Matt said, putting himself between Eve and the camera. “Ms. Masterson is on vacation.”

  The lady squinted petulantly. “So what? So are we. Who are you? Hey, wait. Didn’t I read something about some mystery guy?”

  Eve’s head started to spin. The heat and noise zapped her energy. She was sure she’d have collapsed without Matt’s support. Something about the woman’s piercing voice triggered a memory so deeply buried, Eve doubled over in pain. With a low curse, Matt tightened his arms around her and elbowed his way through the now-growing crowd.

  “That was rude,” the woman complained. “I always knew those celebrity types were stuck-up.” Her words followed after them. “You’re not as pretty in person, you know.”

  The words added to the anguish swirling in her head. They mingled with another voice—the voice on her answering machine back home.

  When they got to the car, brushing past two concerned gate attendants who seemed convinced Eve had suffered an injury of some kind, Matt guided her into the seat. A minute later, he started the engine and drove out of the parking lot. Once they were on the main highway, he turned up the air-conditioning and let out a sigh. “Well,” he muttered. “Are all your fans that charming?”