He had to be careful because Eva dulled his instincts of self-preservation, making it easier for her to lead him around by the nose if he wasn’t careful. He’d seen a similar result between Phineas and his mother.
Sometimes he wondered if Phineas had known that his mother resumed the affair with his biological father. Thinking back, there had been signs of her deceit. The frequent trips, the long periods during the day when she couldn’t be reached at all, the hushed tones when she talked on the phone. Could he have known and simply ignored it, choosing to turn a blind eye in order to hold on to the trophy wife he’d fallen completely and irrevocably in love with?
Love. Derrick wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy.
Everyone talked about the beauty of it, but few ventured to discuss the damage the rejection of love produced. It destroyed marriages, made fools of intelligent men, and crushed the souls of innocent children.
He washed his face and slapped on aftershave, his movements jerky, trying but failing to expunge the memory that he’d never been able to rid himself of. The memory of the one and only time he’d ever met his biological father.
At nine years old, he’d found out where he worked, lied to the family driver, and convinced him to take him to the address. He’d thought that maybe if his father met him . . . maybe, just maybe he would realize he’d made a mistake and want him. After all, everyone said Derrick was good-looking and tall for his age. Surely that counted for something.
But it hadn’t. He’d never forgotten the words Roarke Sr. said. “You have a father. And I already have a son.” The devastating words had crushed him.
Of course his mother had been furious, but by then, he’d shut down. As she scolded him for sneaking off and going against her wishes, his only regret had been getting the driver into trouble.
From that moment on, he learned to maintain a certain emotional distance from those around him, including family. It was a protective mechanism that worked for years. Foolishly, he’d allowed Eva to penetrate that wall. He’d lowered his guard and let her get close, sharing pieces of his past with her he hadn’t shared with anyone else. He didn’t need to get burned twice to understand fire burned, and Eva was pure fire. Deceptively soft and with an angelic face, it made it easier for her to cut a man off at the knees if she were so inclined. That’s why he had to be careful with her.
Ever since he’d seen her in that restaurant with her friends, she’d had an unbreakable hold on him he couldn’t shake. He was starting to wonder if he even wanted to.
****
Eva yawned and stretched. An inordinate amount of contentment filled her body, and no wonder, after being made love to by Derrick.
He had accused her of purposely coming into his bedroom to force a response, and he’d been right, though she hadn’t realized it until he called her out.
She rolled over into the spot on the bed he’d vacated. The sheets were cool, meaning he’d probably been up at the crack of dawn. The sheets and pillows smelled like him, and her body tingled with delicious sensations. She missed him already. Boy, she had it bad.
Chapter Twelve
A few Saturdays later, Eva strolled into the kitchen.
“Good morning, Mrs. Hoffman,” Svana said. “Breakfast on the terrace today?”
“Yes, that would be nice.”
“What would you like?”
“Surprise me.” On her way out the door, Eva asked, “Have you seen my husband this morning?” My husband. She never got tired of hearing the way those two words sounded together.
“He’s in the garage with Saunders discussing a problem with one of the cars.”
Svana started to prepare breakfast while Eva sat at the table on the terrace. Heat lamps kept the fall temperature at a comfortable degree, but soon it would become too cold to sit out there.