Causing Havoc (31 page)

"I know." Tilting her head back on his shoulder, Eve smiled at him. She slipped her hand around his warm throat to the side of his neck. "Dean?"

"Hmmm?"

"Why did you tel me?"

Hel if he knew. But talking with Eve was easy. She knew his sisters, cared about them, and

expected him to do the same. Unlike Gregor, she wouldn't harass him about assisting Cam.

No, she just cried over it.

Making a big production out of rearranging her pony-tail, Dean smoothed it down her back. Eve

needed an answer, so he cupped her cheek, touched her eyebrows with his thumb. "I guess ... it was

bothering me. What Cam and Jacki are going through, I mean."

"What are they going through?"

He looked away from her insightful gaze. "Hel , I don't know. It's just that I always figured—that is, I assumed— that they had the better bargain after our folks died. Not that Uncle Grover was bad. He

wasn't. I cared a lot about him."

"You loved him."

Dean nodded. He felt no shame in his feelings for Grover. "And respected him and liked and

admired him. He was a hel of a role model. Fair without thinking about it. Considerate almost by

accident."

"Honorable," she said with conviction.

Dean frowned at her. "Grover was strong as a horse and determined to have things his own way,

but never by force or abuse."

"Hmmm. Sounds like someone I know."

To keep her from singing his praises again, Dean picked up her hand and examined her fingers. So

delicate and feminine, but with a woman's strength.

He imagined them wrapped around his cock, squeezing, stroking, and lust twisted through him.

Feeling her warm, soft weight in his lap, her gentle breaths, Dean knew it'd be easy to change her

mind about lovemaking during her monthly.

But he wouldn't.

Lacking a rationale that he could easily discern. Dean wanted her to know that he could enjoy her

company with or without the benefit of sex. Dropping his head back on the couch and closing his eyes

helped him to stay focused on their conversation.

' When I compare Grover with Lorna, it torments me, because I have to admit that I've lived with

things backward in my mind."

"That's not true."

"I had the bargain," he insisted. "I always felt like I'd been kicked out. Now. . . now I feel like I abandoned them."

"Dean." Eve squirmed around on his lap, making Dean's teeth lock, until she could kiss his chin.

"Don't think that Lorna was al bad. She wasn't." With a gentle touch. Eve brought his face down to hers. "Cam and Jacki had whatever they real y needed."

"Not love."
And not me.
His hands clenched. "They didn't have affection, either." That resounding fact was made utterly clear every time Dean witnessed Lorna with them.

"I don't know. Lorna's an odd duck. On the surface, she might seem to care mostly about

appearances and her own comfort."

"With Lorna, I'm not sure there's anything below the surface."

Eve poked him in the ribs. "She took Cam and Jacki to the doctor when necessary. They never

missed a dental appointment. They might not have had the newest fads in clothes or makeup, but they

were always decently dressed and clean." She gave him an encouraging smile. "That has to count for something, right?"

With every word Eve spoke, Dean felt more pained. He put a hand to Eve's back and rubbed.

"Sometimes, in the countries where we worked, the nearest doctor was a day's drive away. Only in

the case of an emergency did you bother with a doctor."

"Somehow I can't imagine you being il very often."

"I rarely am. I think I built up a great immune system." Without even realizing it, Dean's hand had wandered from Eve's back to her hip. He raised it again. "If I went to the dentist, it was because I had a toothache. And clothes were things you bought when there were too many rips to keep them

together."

Eve made a wry face. "Huh. Wel maybe that explains your choice of wardrobe now."

Because he wore ragged jeans and a faded black SBC shirt, Dean laughed. "Comfort wil explain

most of what I do."

"Right. Like getting the crap beat out of you in the ring?"

Pretending to dump her off his lap, Dean listened to her squeal, then righted her again, saying,

"Smart ass. I catch a few punches here and there. That's unavoidable. But they pay me wel to fight

because I fil the stands."

She looked dubious, and damned if Dean didn't feel defensive again.

Other than negotiating a new contract, he never discussed money with anyone, mostly because he

didn't al ow a dol ar sign to define him as a fighter or a man. He'd grown adept at avoiding a direct

reply to media inquiries, and anyone daring enough to ask out of sheer nosiness got rudely put in

place.

But this time, before Dean could censor himself, the words came out. "I get a quarter of a mil ion just to step in the ring."

Eve's jaw dropped.

"Winning gets me more, and as I told you, Eve, I usual y win."

When she final y found her voice, Eve gasped, "I had no idea."

"I noticed."

She shoved back from his chest to glare at him. "I wasn't asking about your personal finances."

"No, you were just assuming a lot." He gave her a look. "Al of it bad."

Her gaze skipped over him. and she relented. "Okay, so you dress for comfort. I believe it."

Damn it, did she have to sound so sarcastic. "It bothers you?"

"No. Why should it?"

Even the less-than-astute Roger had noticed they were fast becoming an item. "You're a regular

fashion plate, honey, and I'm far from it. That's why."

"So?"

"You're seen in public with me."

Her absurd look of confusion wouldn't fool anyone. "But it's not like we're married or anything. We're not even real y al that involved."

Her denial of a real relationship had Dean stiffening with unreasonable affront. In a cold whisper ful

of chal enge, he said, "You don't think so?"

"Of course not." As if she mistook his mood and wanted to reassure him. Eve patted his chest.

"Don't worry, Dean. I won't forget that you're here for a visit only and that you'l be taking off again soon."

"I don't know when I'm leaving."

She just smiled. "But you know you're not staying. So I won't complicate things, I promise,"

"Damn it, Eve—"

"I'm enjoying you a lot; I won't lie about that. While you're here, I hope to see you more. But I won't make the mistake of fal ing for you."

"You won't, huh?" He'd have to see about her determination to keep him at arm's length. If he put his mind to it, he could get her to—
What the hell was he thinking?

Dean scowled at her, though his irritation was mostly self-directed because of his gut reaction to her

lack of interest.

"No, I won't. You don't have to worry about me trying to change you in any way. How you dress is

none of my business and I know it." After she said that, she dared to smile and touch her fingertips to his col arbone in an innocent caress that set him on fire. "Besides, no matter what you wear or don't wear, you look pretty darn hunky to me."

Shit. Dean knew he needed to get his mind on other things ASAP. His physical need for Eve was

hard enough to resist. Now he wanted to seduce her into admitting it was
more
than physical for her.

Because it was more than that for him.

He hadn't known her long enough to feel the way he did. The rational part of his brain told him that,

but every other inch of his body, psyche, and soul insisted that time frames didn't matter one iota. Not

this time.

He knew part of his fascination with Eve might be her close relationship to his sisters. She had an

inside track with Cam and Jacki; already she knew them better than he ever would, guaranteed by a

shared history that he'd missed.

But Dean was smart enough to know that not just any woman would have drawn him so easily. From

the moment he'd spied Eve standing there in Roger's bar he'd felt the chemistry. Just as she had.

From the jump, he'd wanted her, and having her hadn't made the craving go away. If anything, knowing

her intimately had only intensified things.

Catching Eve's playful fingers, Dean held her hand flat on his abdomen and asked something that

had been bothering him for a while. "Does Cam know how our parents died?"

The question stumped Eve. "What do you mean? They died in a car wreck, right."

"That's al Cam knows about it?"

Growing more concerned, Eve said, "Why? What else is there to know?"

"She's never said anything more to you?"

"Dean." Eve scooted off his lap before he could stop her. "I'm not in a tolerant mood today, as you already know. Stop playing around and tel me what's going on."

Dean ran a hand over his hair. Should he tel Eve before Cam and Jacki knew? He could trust her

not to say anything. That wasn't the point.

Thinking aloud, Dean said, "I'm not even sure they should know. I mean, it's not a nice story for a

daughter to hear." He turned his head toward Eve, and said by way of question, "I can't imagine that either of the girls remembers much about our parents?"

"No. And with almost al the photos missing, they didn't have any visual reminders to grow up with."

"That might be a good thing." In fact, perhaps that was Lorna's reasoning for removing al the

photos. Could she have altruistic motives after al ?

No. Dean didn't think so. "Some people aren't cut out to be parents."

' Meaning Lorna?"

He shook his head. "You know I was nine years old when my mother and father died."

"A very young boy."

"Not mature by any stretch," he agreed, "but old enough to remember my friends, the games we played and the scuffles we got into. Unfortunately I can't recal much other than a few brief smiles

from my mother. My memory is of a beautiful woman who didn't look or act like a mother."

Eve settled back into the couch and listened quietly.

"She hired people to care for Cam and Jacki and only involved herself enough to dictate how they

were dressed, so that her friends would go on about how cute they were."

"What about you?"

"Boys were a father's responsibility." He shrugged, remembering his mother's sentiments. "But Dad was the type who enjoyed the image of a family man, and not the family itself. When he wasn't

working, he was golfing with his business buddies, making connections. That sort of thing."

"As you said, you were only nine when they died. It was an awful time, losing your folks, being

removed from your home. Maybe you aren't remembering it exactly right."

She sounded hopeful and sad. Dean smiled. Eve had said she wanted children some day. He

instinctively knew she'd be a loving, caring mother. Seeing her interaction with her own family shored

up that impression, and then there was her close, caring relationship with Cam.

"Because your parents are so close with you, it probably seems impossible to you for a mother and

father to be so detached. But that's how it was. I do remember a lot of it, and what I don't remember

was there in photographs and letters. Anything that wasn't real clear to me, my uncle helped me with."

"And you don't think he might have a skewed perception of things?"

"No." Dean touched her face—and unburdened himself. "My mother was having a long-standing

affair. My father found her in bed, in our family home, with another man. I was out playing with friends,

but Cam and Jacki were there, supposedly down for a nap with the nanny watching over them."

"Dear God."

Dean dropped his hand. "According to the nanny, there was a lot of screaming. The man left.. . and

my mother went with him."

Eve sat there, speechless.

"I guess my father wasn't ready to let her go. Or maybe he was too angry to let her lover just walk

away. He drove after them, both cars were going too fast, and that's how they wrecked. Ironical y,

though my parents were in separate cars, they both died." Dean shook his head. "Mother's lover

didn't."

Her face pale, her hands twisted together, Eve whispered, "Cam and Jacki have no idea."

"I figured as much, but I wasn't a hundred percent certain. Lorna knows. She could have told them."

He shrugged. "She and Grover were at the house together after the funeral when the man showed

up."

Eve's hand slipped into his. In a voice tinged with anger, she asked, "Where were you?"

"Sitting on the couch." The corners of Dean's mouth lifted with the memory. "Grover had been explaining to me that I was coming with him, that I wouldn't be staying with my sisters. He was doing

his best to make it sound like an adventure when this loud, enraged guy barged in without knocking."

"Jesus, Dean." Eve curled into him, putting her arms around him, squeezing him tight.

She wanted to comfort him, not excite him. Since returning to Harmony, he'd had more unique

experiences with women than in al his years away.

They were good experiences.

With good reason, it had been years since Dean relived that day. He hated the memories, how they

always brought back that hol ow sickness and the awful sense of being lost and scared. "I remember

that the guy was shouting about my father kil ing my mother, though I didn't real y understand what he

meant. He kept saying that without her, he had nothing to live for."

"The selfish bastard."

Dean realized that Eve was crying again, but this time in anger. Her emotions real y were on a rol er

coaster, and he wasn't helping.

Best that he get through the rest of the story in a hurry. "Grover was impressive as hel . He charged across the room and shut the idiot up with a Superman punch that knocked him out cold."