Never Too Late (42 page)

his plate away and smiled at Evie.

‘Sorry to change the subject, but I know you’ve got to

get back to work. Do you know why I’ve asked you out?’

he asked abruptly, eyes boring into hers.

Evie could feel her pulse rushing along like a freight

train. She could imagine what he was going to say. Because I can’t stop thinking about you, Evie. Because I’m crazy about you. That’s why I want to spend more time in Ireland, to be close to you. I know you’re engaged but…

‘… I don’t know what you’d think about that,’ he was

saying.

‘Sorry, what?’ Evie reined in her imagination, which was

now on a windswept beach with herself and Max in a

clinch beside frothing waves and a sandy cove that was a

dead ringer for the one in From Here To Eternity.

One of Max’s eyebrows veered upwards. ‘I was telling

you about this idea I have for a summer holiday to bring both families together. I know you usually spend some time with your father during the summer and I thought

we could combine that with my gift to the newly weds.’

‘What gift … combine what?’ asked Evie stupidly. What

was he talking about?

A villa in Spain. I’ve booked a villa in the south of Spain

for two weeks at the end of July. It’s my wedding present

to Andrew and my mother but your dad is understandably

worried because you normally spend time with him for the

summer. Mother doesn’t want to upset things, she knows

their marriage was difficult for you to accept, so I thought

that if you, Rosie and Cara came with us, it’d solve lots of

problems.’

‘With us?’ Evie asked again.

‘Naturally I was going to go too. If you don’t object?’

There was that grin again, a wry grin, as if he knew what

she’d been thinking. Wrongly thinking.

‘I don’t know,’ Evie said coolly, recovering her composure

somewhat. ‘Where in the south of Spain?’ she asked,

as if she were intimately acquainted with every centimetre

of the Costa del Sol instead of only knowing it from

holiday programmes on TV.

‘Puerto Banus.’

‘Oh,’ she said in a blase tone, making a mental note to

look it up on the atlas when she went home. ‘I’ll have to

think about it.’ She drained her coffee cup in one go.

‘It’s a beautiful part of the coast,’ he said, as if reading

her mind, ‘and it’d be a wonderful chance for us all to get

to know each other.’

Evie eyed him suspiciously.

The amused expression disappeared from his eyes. ‘I

mean that,’ he said softly. ‘I’d love to get to know you better.’

The way he looked at her was like nothing she’d ever

experienced before. Those incredibly blue eyes roamed

over her face, drinking her in. The moment was unbearably

charged, incredibly seductive. Evie felt the rest of the

world melt away, as if there was no other sound or

movement around - just her and Max, his gaze fastened

on hers.

‘Rosie, Cara and me?’ she asked, deliberately misunderstanding

him.

‘Just you.’

‘Oh;

He was speaking in a very low voice now, the words

electric. ‘I know what you said last week at the wedding

but I wanted to see you again.’

She looked away, as if he could see inside her and know

she’d been longing to see him too. To talk to him, laugh

with him, touch him.

‘You never answered my note.’

‘How could I?’ she demanded fiercely. ‘You know about

Simon, how could I possibly meet you?’

They were so close now, both leaning across the table

towards the other, almost touching. Intimate, like lovers.

Evie didn’t know what she was going to do next. It was

heady, this feeling of being carried away with emotion.

That’s what Max did to her - changed her, made her like

someone different, someone who followed her instincts

and not a prepared script.

‘I know you’re engaged, Evie, but I can’t help the way I

felt about you the moment I met you. I thought you felt the same way too?’

His hand reached across the table to hers. She watched

it, fascinated. His skin was a golden tanned colour, the

strong wrist covered with surprisingly pale hairs for a man

with such a shock of Italianate dark hair.

‘Evie!’ shrieked someone. ‘Fancy meeting you here!’

Startled, she jerked back in her seat and looked up to see one

of Simon’s colleagues bearing down on them, a tray

jammed with a plate of chips and sausages in his hands. Younger than Simon but a partner in the firm, Phillip Knight was always promising Simon he’d play squash in

the evenings. But judging from the man’s vast stomach, it

seemed unlikely. Of all the people to meet now.

‘Phillip, how nice to see you,’ Evie said dishonestly.

‘Phillip works with Simon, my fiance,’ she added with

heavy emphasis for Max’s benefit.

She felt a tell-tale flush of guilt rise from her throat to

her face like a crimson tide. Phillip, though not the

brightest man she’d ever met, would be sure to mention to

Simon that he’d met Evie with Max and then where would

she be? Nobody with even a quarter of a brain cell could

misconstrue the body language between them. She grinned

inanely at Phillip, shock making her incapable of saying

anything else. OmiGod, omiGod, went a little voice in her

head over and over again.

Phillip stood there with his tray clutched to his vast,

pinstripe stomach, obviously waiting to be invited to sit

down at their table. Beautifully brought up and endlessly

polite, he wouldn’t have dreamed of plonking himself

down without being asked. Which was why Evie found

dinner in Phillip’s house such a nightmare. She was always

afraid she’d make a terrible faux-pas by using the wrong

family-crested knife for her bread.

In one swift movement, Max got to his feet.

‘Max Stewart,’ he introduced himself genially, ‘Evie’s

new …’ he hesitated, as if he had only just come up with

the notion ‘… stepbrother. Imagine that! Her father and

my mother have just got married and we’re hatching a

plan for the newly weds.’ He slapped Phillip on the arm, as

if letting him in on some wonderful secret.

The tray wobbled.

‘Phillip Knight,’ he said formally, still holding his tray.

‘Yes,’ Evie said brightly. ‘A wedding gift! Gosh, it won’t

be too long until it’s Simon and me getting hitched!’ She

got up and slapped Phillip’s other arm heartily. The tray

wobbled some more.

‘I’d love to stay, Phillip,’ she gushed, ‘but I’ve got to get

back to work and Max has got to …’ she faltered ‘…

pick up his wife from the …’

Both men were looking at her expectantly.

‘The hospital!’ she said triumphantly, it being the first

thing that had come into her head. And a wife. That was a

master stroke, she thought. Phillip couldn’t get the wrong

idea now.

She ignored Max’s face, which was a picture of barely

suppressed mirth.

‘Is she working in the hospital?’ Phillip said politely.

Evie blinked a couple of times. ‘No, she’s … er …

having a baby!’ Even better. What man would be flirting

with his stepsister when his wife was expecting?

‘Lovely. Congratulations,’ Phillip said.

Max took the tray from him and put it on the table.

‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘I’d better go. Mia hates to be kept

waiting. Especially,’ he glanced at Evie mischievously, ‘as

she’s the size of a house.’

‘Huge,’ supplied Evie, rounding both arms to make a

pregnant belly gesture that would surely signify a hippo

baby instead of a human one.

She pecked Phillip’s cheek, smiled as brightly as she

could and sailed away, Max in her wake.

He managed to stay silent until they reached the car

park. ‘Thanks for the pregnant wife,’ he said conversationally.

‘That was a neat touch.’

‘I thought so myself.’ Evie said lightly.

‘Did she have to be quite so enormously pregnant or, indeed, did we have to be married?’ he inquired. I’m only asking because Simon will hear about it and will probably

wonder what I’ve done with the said pregnant wife,

especially when I don’t bring her to Spain. I don’t want to

get a reputation as a complete bastard.’

‘I was desperate,’ hissed Evie.

‘I could see that. But why lie quite so outrageously?’

‘Phillip may be stupid but he’s not blind,’ she retorted.

And he’d have to be blind not to notice the way we were

sitting so close to one another, staring into each other’s

eyes!’ Evie shivered and didn’t know whether it was from

the shock of seeing Phillip so unexpectedly or the thought

of the conversation she and Max had been having when

he’d showed up.

‘Since you now have the perfect alibi for meeting me,

and since I’m officially “safe” because of my pregnant

missus, can we meet again?’ Max asked. ‘Before the quadruplets

are born, I mean.’

‘How can you ask that?’ Evie demanded furiously. ‘You

can see I can’t meet you.’

Max drove into Wentworth’s car park. The onlookers

weren’t at their posts, Evie noticed idly.

‘No, I don’t see that you can’t meet me,’ he said softly,

and turned the ignition off and faced her for the first time,

making her aware of how small the car was inside and how

disturbingly close they were. ‘If you don’t want to see me

again, that’s one thing.’ His face was in shadow, the hard

planes shaded in, making him look saturnine, devilish. But

if you’re afraid to take the chance, that’s different. You do

want to see me, don’t you?’ he asked, sounding strangely

vulnerable for a moment.

He reached out and touched Evie’s full bottom lip,

letting his thumb caress it gently. She closed her eyes

briefly, letting the sensation ripple through her. It was the

most erotic sensation she’d ever felt. Unexpected, unusual.

She could smell his skin, smell the warm, musky maleness

of him, could taste the saltiness of his skin. She almost

kissed his thumb as it rolled lazily over the plumpness of

her mouth. Then she pulled back abruptly. What was she

doing? What was he doing?

‘Who the hell do you think you are, touching me like

that, coming into my life and trying to screw it up?’ she

screeched at him.

A muscle moved in his jaw, just a tiny flicker.

“I don’t want to see you again,’ Evie said, her voice

growing hoarse.

He said nothing but just stared at her, his face dark.

‘It’s impossible for me,’ she said in anguish. ‘Don’t you

understand?’ She fumbled with the door and finally

opened it, dragging herself out of the car frantically.

Aware that she could be seen from the office, she tried

to set her face into some sort of normal expression. It was

almost impossible. Her pulse was pounding in her veins

and she wanted to cry, longed to cry. Smile, Evie, she told

herself. Don’t cry. Don’t look back. She knew he hadn’t

driven off yet, could feel him sitting quietly in the car

watching her walk into the office.

The muscles in her neck were corded with the effort of

smiling as she pushed the office door open and marched

straight for the stairs. Please don’t let anyone speak to me,

she prayed. Nobody did. She walked up the stairs to her

office slowly, her senses reeling. Had she done the right

thing by sending him away? She had, hadn’t she? You

couldn’t be engaged and about to be married and have

clandestine meetings with another man, especially a sexy,

single and utterly handsome man. She had done the right

thing, definitely. She was sure of it. But why did it hurt so

much, then? Why did she have a lump in her throat that made her want to sit on the floor and wail? Why did she want to run back down to the car park, throw herself into

Max’s arms and beg him to hold her tightly?

Lorraine’s eyes lit up when Evie walked into their office.

‘Wow, your stepbrother is something else,’ she said. ‘He’s

a stud. Can you have sex with your stepbrother? No, sorry.

Can I have sex with your stepbrother?’ She crowed with

laughter at the idea. ‘Craig need never find out, I won’t tell

him!’

Evie dug her nails into the palm of her hand and tried to

join in. Even to her own ears, her laughter was very forced.

She’d turned Max down for the second time. He’d never

come back, never bother her again, that was for sure. So

why did she feel so utterly depressed at the thought?

Simon positioned the jack under Evie’s rusty Fiesta and

expertly began to elevate the car off the driveway. He’d

taken his sweatshirt off and she could see the muscles in

his back ripple through the thin fabric of his T-shirt. All

that squash made him very lean. Probably too lean, she

thought. He was getting positively scrawny.

He’d never had a big appetite and he wasn’t using his

deep fat fryer as much since she’d remarked that she didn’t

want to be eating chips morning, noon and night when

they were married.

‘It’s lucky I noticed this nail in the tyre, Evie,’ he said,

only slightly out of breath after the job of unscrewing the

ancient nuts. ‘If I hadn’t, you’d have ended up with a flat