Mistress by Mistake

‘I still can’t believe I said that,’ she said out loud.

Theo looked up from the steaming pan to which he was adding indeterminate amounts of a variety of spices.

‘Why don’t you use the extractor? The whole place reeks of curry.’

‘Curry,’ the tall man repeated with offended dignity. ‘That word hardly describes the delicate balance of spices in my work of art.’

‘Fine. The whole place reeks of your work of art.’ She pulled out one of the mismatched chairs that were set around the long table in the middle of the room and slumped dejectedly down.

‘Want to tell Uncle Theo all about it?’ he suggested deserting his culinary enterprise with a regretful backward glance.

‘About what?’

‘Come off it, Evie,’ he said bluntly.

She gave a small concessionary shrug and rested her chin upon her arms, which were supported by the comforting solidity of the oak table. ‘I’ve never been so humiliated in my life!’ she confided, her voice muffled by the soft fabric of her olive striped top. ‘It was Nick’s fault.’

‘It would be,’ her companion acknowledged, speaking with the authority of someone who hadn’t escaped unscathed by that absent young person’s inventive schemes. ‘You’ll feel better if you talk about it.’

Being an innately sensitive human being, he didn’t laugh as the whole story spilled out.

‘There, I knew it—you think I was stupid!’ She lifted her head and tossed a feathery dark curl away from her cheek.

‘I think,’ he soothed, ‘it was a classic case of bad timing.’

‘I couldn’t refuse, could I?’ she appealed to him. ‘Poor Daniel was going through hell at school; he’s such a sensitive boy,’ she said, unable to think of his pale, sensitive features without a gush of maternal anguish.

‘So it was this girl—the man-eater who came on to him—that spread the rumour in school about him being gay?’ Eve nodded. ‘But he’s not…’

‘Gay? Of course not. The poor boy was just petrified by her. Not all seventeen-year-olds are like Nick.’ Confidence with the opposite sex was not something that her brother lacked—a fact that had given her several sleepless nights over the last couple of years.

‘So Nick was supposed to arrive with an audience guaranteed to spread the story just as Daniel was in a clinch with the object of all adolescent male fantasies—a desirable mature woman. Overnight his name would be synonymous with stud.’

‘In a nutshell…’ She pressed her fingers to her temples as if to physically remove the sickening throb of the terrible headache which was developing. ‘A case of bad casting, I know.’

‘It’s quite clever, really,’ Theo mused with grudging admiration.

Eve cast her lodger a look of intense dislike. ‘Clever! Pardon me if I don’t sound suitably appreciative. I doubt if you would either if you’d been threatened and abused by that disgusting man. Do you know what he called me?’ she demanded, her voice quivering with outrage. ‘A predatory, grasping little tart who couldn’t handle real men.’ Even when she closed her eyes she could still see the scornful blaze, hot enough to strip flesh from the bone, in the distinctive blue eyes.

‘Ouch.’

‘Ouch—is that all you can say?’

‘Well, I suppose it must have been a shock for the guy, finding his nephew in the clutches of a—’ He came to an abrupt halt and cast her an apologetic lop-sided smile. ‘That outfit did make you look pretty—well let’s just say you looked the part. Not a tart, you understand,’ he added hastily, ‘just…’

‘You’re digging yourself a very deep hole, Theo,’ she pointed out, uncharitably glad to see someone other than herself suffering foot-in-the-mouth syndrome. ‘He very obviously thought I was a tart.’ Her bosom swelled with indignation. ‘I suppose you think I should be flattered.’

Theo was too wise a man to respond to that challenge. ‘Didn’t you explain? Didn’t the boy put him straight?’

‘What chance did I have? I couldn’t get a word in edge-wise.’ Theo looked openly sceptical and she grated her teeth, at a loss to explain to someone who knew her how she’d been inexplicably reduced to a witless zombie by the sheer trauma of the situation. ‘Plus the fact,’ she continued tartly, ‘Nick and his cronies rolled up about thirty seconds after Drew Cummings put in an appearance. It was a circus. And as for Daniel, he obviously thinks the man can walk on water,’ she spat in disgust.

When Drew Cummings had entered the room she’d thought for one awful moment his nephew was going to pass out. She’d almost envied him; at the time losing consciousness had had a distinct appeal.

‘Talk about macho man!’ she added scornfully. ‘And I’m positive he’s just the type to encourage Daniel’s hero-worship. Having a young boy thinking he’s a cross between James Bond and Mother Teresa is just the sort of ego stroking he would enjoy. He’s the typical product of an over-privileged background—you know the type. He’s got that unshakeable sense of his own superiority.’

Theo let out a long, slow whistle. ‘And how many products of an over-privileged background do you know on a first-name basis, Evie? You sound as if you’re addressing a political rally.’

Eve had the grace to blush. ‘You had to be there,’ she said defensively.

‘This bloke’s really got to you, hasn’t he? You really shouldn’t jump to conclusions, Evie. I thought you were the one down on people who generalised,’ he reminded her. ‘It’s not like you actually know the man.’

The gentle censure in his tone brought a further self-conscious flush to Eve’s cheeks. ‘True, I don’t know him. So things could be worse,’ she agreed tartly. Under the circumstances she felt she was being quite restrained.

‘God, I wish I had been there—as an observer, of course. Come on, Evie!’ he chided. ‘This isn’t like you. Where’s your sense of humour? I don’t doubt Nick’s sorting things out right now. You’ll all laugh about it later.’

Eve stared incredulously at him. Laugh! It was obvious to Eve that Theo failed to appreciate that Drew Cummings was a person totally without redeeming features.

‘I hope that all doesn’t include Uncle Drew. Because I can’t conceive of a situation where I’d go within ten miles of the man, let alone share cosy laughter!’

‘Talking about Nick—where did he get to?’

‘He’s big enough to look after himself,’ she responded grumpily. All the same, she did glance with some anxiety at the clock. She didn’t doubt for a minute that he’d manage to talk his way out of this as easily as he did every other difficult situation he’d ever found himself in his short life—but even so…

‘Talk of the devil. That sounds like dear Nicholas now.’ At the sound of the front door slamming Theo raised his head from his cooking. ‘Follow your nose, Nick, we’re in the kitchen,’ he yelled. ‘Well, well, who’s been a— Hellfire, Nick, what happened to you?’ Dropping his wooden spoon, an expression of genuine concern on his face, Theo rushed past Eve.

Eve forgot about the cold disdain she’d been going to dish out to her brother and spun around in her seat. With a gasp of horror she too was on her feet.

Nick held out his hands to ward them off. ‘It’s worse than it looks,’ he assured them hastily. The swollen split lip made his voice slightly slurred. ‘No, Evie, don’t touch…ouch!’

‘Ice…’ she said firmly.

‘Sara’s already put ice on it.’

‘It looks terrible!’ Subconsciously she registered the significant fact that he’d turned to his girlfriend first, rather than her. She saved her contemplation of birds leaving the nest until later—the thoughts uppermost in her mind right now were for Nick’s immediate health.

‘Thanks.’

‘Have you had it checked out in Casualty?’

‘Don’t fuss, Evie, it’s only a bloody nose and a split lip. I’ll be my usual beautiful self by next week. Besides, I thought you’d be pleased. Just deserts and all that…’ he suggested slyly.

Eve expelled a pent-up breath and relaxed a little now she could see the damage to her brother’s face was actually quite superficial. ‘If I was a spiteful person…’ she only half teased.

‘You’re mad with me?’ Eve grimaced in sympathy as producing his normal winning grin cost Nick a definite wince.

‘What do you think?’

‘I think you’re not ready to see the funny side yet.’

‘How intuitive of you. But, first things first, how did you do that?’ Her gesture covered the swollen and discoloured area of his mouth and the evidence of a bloody nose.

‘It’s a bit embarrassing, really,’ he admitted, looking sheepish. ‘If you’d hung around another thirty seconds you’d have seen for yourself. You know how I always say words are more effective than fists? Well, I’ve come to the conclusion that that was a very mature statement. Problem is, I wasn’t feeling too mature when he…when he said…’ He glanced at Theo, his colour heightened slightly. ‘That crack about you, Evie,’ he finished uncomfortably. ‘I just saw red.’ The confession was accompanied by a lot of foot-shuffling and shoulder-shrugging. Confessing to the inexplicable urge to protect his sister’s honour was obviously affording Nick considerable discomfort.

Eve froze and went dramatically pale. ‘Are you telling me,’ she said slowly, ‘that he did this to you?’ She recalled the greyhound-lean body and the rippling muscles and a wave of incredulous fury fogged her brain. Nick, for all his height, had the slender body of a young man emerging from adolescence.

‘That wouldn’t be so embarrassing. The damned man moves incredibly fast for a big bloke,’ Nick admitted, his voice tinged with an admiration that was totally incomprehensible to his sister. ‘I didn’t get to lay a finger on him. I went charging straight past him, tripped over some damn table and straight into some bloody great clock thing. In keeping with the general theme of disaster, it turned out to be an antique family heirloom sort of thing.’

This minor technicality that Uncle Drew hadn’t actually laid hands on Nick passed over Eve’s head. Her brother was injured, and the damage was directly attributable to Drew Cummings.

‘That’s it!’ Insult her and he might get away with, but cause her baby brother harm and there was no way he was going to escape scot-free!

‘What do you think you’re doing, Eve?’ Her brother asked in alarm as she scrabbled through the small pile of loose keys deposited on the big old-fashioned dresser.

‘I’m going to tell Mr Drew Cummings exactly what I think of him, that’s what I’m doing. Where are your car keys, Theo?’ she continued, ignoring her brother’s groan of dismay.

‘Don’t give them to her, Theo,’ Nick pleaded. ‘I don’t need big sister rushing to the rescue. Tell her, Theo. I just about talked the guy around. The last thing I need is you turning up screaming abuse.’

‘I’ve no intention of screaming, and I’m not doing this for you.’ That was true. At least in part. It had really got under her skin that she’d been reduced to some sort of compliant moron earlier. ‘I’m doing this for humanity in general. That man needs pulling down a peg or two!’ Why the hell didn’t I stand up for myself when I had the chance? she wondered as she contemplated her missed opportunity with seething frustration.

‘I’m not telling her anything.’ Eve flashed her brother a smug grin, which faded as Theo snatched the discovered keys from her hand. ‘But neither am I letting you use my car, Evie. Not until you’ve cooled down.’

‘But you know the van’s at the garage until tomorrow, Theo,’ she wailed reproachfully.

‘Then wait until then.’

‘How can you say that?’ she spluttered indignantly. ‘Look at Nick.’

‘Nick’s already explained the man didn’t lay a finger on him.’

‘Nick was defending me!’ Because I chickened out when the going got tough, she thought with a wave of self-disgust.

‘If you’re honest, Evie, you’re just using this as an excuse because you’re itching for a fight.’

‘No such thing,’ she denied hotly, without meeting his eyes.

‘You’re mad because you ran away without defending yourself. Or maybe,’ he said with an abrupt change of tactics, ‘it’s a sexual chemistry thing between you and Uncle Drew.’ He looked at her with innocent enquiry. ‘That could explain all this hostility.’ He exchanged a conspiratorial grin with Nick.

‘So could being verbally and physically abused,’ she replied frigidly. Didn’t she have the bruises on her arms to prove it?

‘The guy certainly has muscles in all the right places,’ Nick agreed solemnly.

‘I didn’t notice.’

Her brother laughed out loud at this one. ‘Maybe you’re going back for another look.’

A sharp image of a big bronzed body rose up in her mind to add insult to the injury of her brother’s warped humour. A girl didn’t go through life without seeing images of male perfection, and Drew Cummings had to fall into that category, but none of those images had assaulted her senses with a raw, earthy sexuality. Of course not. None of them had ever grabbed hold of her whilst half naked, she told herself crossly.

‘It’s nice to know who your friends are.’ She treated them both to her best display of icy dignity as she stalked out of the room.

‘I don’t think she appreciated the joke,’ Nick surmised. ‘You don’t think she really…?’ He looked with comical dismay at the older man beside him. ‘Nah,’ he said shaking his head.

‘Maybe the walk will cool her down?’

‘Do you think so?’ Nick asked sceptically.

‘Not really. I was trying to cheer you up.’

CHAPTER TWO

EVE’S cheeks were tinged pink with exertion after ten minutes of furious pedalling. Serve Nick right if he thought his bike had been stolen. How many times had she told him to chain it up?

Actually, she was forced to acknowledge a definite sense of exhilaration at being the one behaving recklessly for once. It was really quite a liberating feeling, she decided thoughtfully as she ran her fingers through her short, fashionably tousled hair.

She propped Nick’s pride and joy against the gleaming paintwork of a big shiny four-wheel drive drawn up on the gravelled forecourt and walked purposefully up to the porticoed entrance. She regarded the pair of stone lions guarding the entrance defiantly.

The door was slightly ajar, and she experienced the first twinge of apprehension as she rang the bell. Her nerves were primed for the offensive, however, and all it took was a quick mental replay of her earlier departure through this very door and the generous lines of her mouth firmed into a line of steely determination and her shoulders squared.

She’d show Uncle Drew she wasn’t the sort of girl he could push around, the sort of girl who ran away meekly, the sort of girl who was reduced to inarticulate compliance by a set of bulging biceps and a few harsh words! She liked a joke as much as the next person, but she hadn’t found anything humorous in Theo and Nick’s appalling suggestions. Chemistry indeed!

‘Come on through!’ A disembodied voice instructed. 26

Startled, Eve looked over her shoulder, half expecting to find someone these words were directed at standing there.

‘Through here!’ Impatience this time, and also the distinctive touch of gravel she’d noticed before. A man who didn’t suffer fools gladly—or at all.

You heard what the man said, Evie. Don’t just stand there, girl. She hadn’t expected it to be quite this easy to get back into the Beck residence.

‘It’s the card table by the door. Can you do it in situ,or will you need to take it away? If that’s the case I need it back by Thursday at the latest.’

Somehow the top of his dark blond head managed to convey harassment. When his head finally lifted, this impression was reinforced. His hands were still immersed in a bucketful of soapy water as he spoke. ‘Well?’

‘You don’t recognise me, do you?’

‘Should I?’ he began impatiently, pushing aside a wing of fair hair that had flopped in his eyes. ‘You’re not the French polisher? Dear God!’ he breathed, his eyes widening in recognition. ‘It’s the femme fatale. Not looking very femme or fatale,’ he added unkindly, getting to his feet and rubbing his wet hands against the legs of his jeans.

Eyebrows raised, he let his curious glance run incredulously over her simple stripy top and sleeveless fleece jacket. The loose lines of her khaki pants blurred the outline of her long legs and the flat, practical boots were about as far removed from the strappy stilettos she’d worn earlier as was possible.

It was ironic, considering his initial assessment, that she could now easily be taken for a schoolgirl—and he knew for sure she wasn’t. She had a freshly scrubbed, wholesome quality that some men found attractive. Personally, he found the long-limbed athletic look attractive on racehorses rather than women.

Is this display of masculine bad manners meant to make me feel uncomfortable? Dream on, she thought scornfully. Lips pursed, she deliberately mimicked his action and let her eyes rather obviously wander critically over his body. She didn’t actually hold out much hope of finding anything to criticise—she was right.

He was wearing a light-coloured cotton shirt, not tucked into the waist of his jeans. His wet hands had left dark marks on the paler material which outlined thighs that Eve already knew were powerfully muscular. She noticed two wet marks where he’d been kneeling on the floor. He was the sort of man who looked good in any clothes, she reflected, but better without them. Just when her confidence was riding high this random thought sent a flurry of panic zinging along her nerve-endings.

To her surprise, when her flustered glance returned abruptly to his face, she found amused appreciation of her retaliatory action in his expression. A couple of deep breaths and she was able to dismiss her embarrassing observation as an aberration. Stress did things like play havoc with your concentration. She comforted herself with this widely accepted fact.

‘What do you want?’

‘You can ask that?’

‘Oh, you’ve come to apologise…sorry, I still don’t know your name.’

Apologise! Her eyes widened. The cheek of the man! ‘I was under the impression that you didn’t want to know my name.’

He didn’t pretend not to understand her. ‘Earlier I was trying to dispel—shall we say, any sense of intimacy.’

Not even a shred of embarrassment, she decided, searching his face. The man was totally shameless. Nick hadn’t gone into details—well, actually, honesty forced her to acknowledge she hadn’t exactly given him the chance—but this man must know by now she was innocent of sinister intentions towards his nephew.

‘Tell me, are you planning to use that?’

‘What…? Oh.’ She followed the direction of the inclination of his head and flushed deeply as she saw the trowel she was brandishing in her hand. ‘I didn’t realise…it was in my pocket,’ she mumbled in explanation.

‘Got anything else muddy and lethal I should know about in there?’ he asked, sounding insultingly amused as she shoved the tool back into the capacious pocket of her warm fleece.

‘Not muddy.’ She took exception to this slur; she was scrupulous about caring for the tools of her trade. ‘I’m a gardener—a landscape gardener—freelance.’ ‘Freelance’ sounded more impressive than ‘worried about where her next job was coming from’ besides, things weren’t really like that any more. Under the circumstances, she had no qualms about making her business sound a lot grander than it was.

After her parents had died she’d had to scale down her plans for the future appropriately. Starting her own garden maintenance business had been a far cry from the degree in landscape architecture she had planned, but what had started as little more than hedge-trimming and lawnmowing had gradually led to better things.

She knew the turning point had been the roof garden she’d created for Adam Sullivan the previous year. He’d been delighted with the results and generous with his praise. And Adam had a lot of upwardly mobile young friends who were keen to employ her services.

‘You sound very intense about it,’ Drew remarked.

The only evidence of the make-up she’d worn earlier was a slight dark smudging of soft grey kohl around her eyes. Lucky girl. Those eyelashes were a natural ebony that matched her hair. He could think of several women who would kill for those lashes. He took a step closer and noticed the sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose that had been concealed behind a layer of foundation on their last meeting. She had that rarest of all complexions, a genuine peaches and cream one.

‘Why shouldn’t I be?’ she countered, suspecting condescension in his voice. ‘Aren’t you intense about your work? Is it only the financial wizards in banks who juggle millions who are allowed to take their work seriously?’ It was easy to be a big cheese when Daddy Cummings owned the bank, she thought scornfully. How well would he have done if he’d had to fight his way up the ladder?

‘My, my, Dan has been talking, hasn’t he?’ Drew mused, mentally adding another subject he needed to bring up with his nephew in the near future. ‘But point taken.’

‘I’ll tell you what I do take seriously, shall I, Mr Cummings?’

His only visible response to her aggressive tone of voice and scornful glare was a quirk of one well-defined brow. ‘Feel free, Miss…’ What had the boy called her? Just how much of his personal history had Daniel supplied to this young woman? he wondered grimly. He was a man who guarded his privacy zealously, and there were some episodes in his personal history he preferred stayed within the confines of the family.

Well, didn’t I make a big impression? He doesn’t even remember my name! ‘I take people assaulting my brother seriously.’

‘Assault! You’ve got to be kidding, lady! What the hell is your name anyway?’

Eve was pleased to see his air of vaguely amused condescension had vanished. He sounded extremely irritable.

‘Eve Gordon.’

‘Well, Eve Gordon, I didn’t lay a finger on your brother. But if I can’t get his blood out of my sister’s carpet I might just oblige you.’ He gave the bucket at his feet a frustrated kick, and some of the sudsy water splashed on his leather boots.

All he was bothered about was blood on his rotten carpet, when poor Nick might have been scarred for life or bled to death! ‘You should have left well alone and got it professionally cleaned.’

Drew, who had just come to this conclusion himself, gave her an unfriendly look. ‘I had enough trouble finding a French polisher who’d come straight out and repair the damage your young thug did to the table.’

‘I’ll tell him you were asking after his health. He’ll be so touched by the concern.’

Drew’s lips tightened at this dose of irony. ‘He looked fine when he left here.’

‘I doubt that very much,’ she snorted. ‘I don’t suppose it occurred to you to take him to the hospital. I call it the height of negligence to let an injured boy walk out of here in that state.’

‘He didn’t walk. A pretty girl picked him up.’

That sounded about right, she grudgingly conceded. Pretty girls were always picking Nick up. Eve suspected pretty girls would be running around after him most of his life. In that respect he probably had quite a lot in common with this man.

‘Sara,’ she said, not looking mollified by this information.

‘If you say so. She was the hysterical type too,’ he said dismissively.

‘Meaning she couldn’t look at the mess you’d made of Nick without displaying some emotion?’ She could hardly trust herself to speak at this display of callousness.

‘I thought I’d already told you I didn’t touch your brother. I was the victim of the assault. A fact you appear to be conveniently forgetting. What was I supposed to do? Stand there and let him batter my brains in?’

‘One look at you and a person can see straight off how savagely you’ve been battered,’ she observed scornfully, looking at his perfect profile with an expression of disgust.

‘Lightning reflexes,’ he agreed complacently. ‘But come back after my sister sees I’ve managed to let her house get trashed,’ he suggested drily. ‘And if she even suspects I’ve allowed her son’s morals to be tainted…’