Red Rose For Love Read online

  Bart's expression was at once scornful. 'And how many of them have been allowed to so much as kiss you?'

  'I don't see that it's any of your business-'

  'How many, Eve?' he repeated tautly.

  'I—It—Only one,' she revealed tightly.

  He gave a mocking laugh. 'I'm sure he considered himself highly privileged,' he said insultingly. Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides, her blue eyes dark with pain. 'I don't know. Did you?' She faced him defiantly.

  He frowned, searching her rebellious features with deep intensity. 'You're saying I was the first man to kiss you in five years?' he said slowly, disbelievingly.

  'Yes!' she snapped.

  'My God!' he breathed deeply.

  Eve turned away, hating the pity in his eyes. 'I—I don't think 111 have any tea, thank you. I think I would rather stay up here and rest.'

  'Have I upset you again?' he asked softly, gently.

  'No.' She still stood with her bade towards him. 'I— I'm just tired.' Which was true, but she was emotionally, not physically, tired.

  Bart's hands came down gently on her shoulders. 'I'm sorry, Eve. I had no idea.'

  She had to stop herself leaning back against the hardness of his body. 'Maisie will be expecting you for ypur tea,'

  she said jerkily, knowing that if he didn't soon leave she was going to burst into tears. 'Apologise for me.'

  'I will.' His hands fell away, although she could still feel the imprint of his fingers on her naked shoulders. 'Get some sleep,' he advised abruptly. 'Everything will look different once you're rested.'

  She just managed to wait until the door closed softly on his exit before the tears started to fall. Maybe some things would look different when she woke up, but one tiling would never change. She was in love with Bart Jordan, and he no longer wanted her.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE room was in darkness when she woke up, and her watch told her it was after eight, which meant she had been asleep over three hours. Bart would already have left for his dinner engagement, so at least she wouldn't have to face him when she got downstairs. His sharp gaze wouldn't have missed the slight puffiness around her eyes. She had cried herself to sleep, her face buried in the pillow so that no one should hear her sobs. Bart knew more about her than Derek had managed to find out in the whole of the five years she had known him. She seemed to tell Bart things without actually meaning to, seemed to want him to know all about her disastrous past. At least this way he could never accuse her of holding anything back from him. The door opened quietly and Maisie peeped inside the room. 'Ah, you're awake.' She came fully into the room, a wide smile lighting up her features. 'I just thought I'd look in on you, make sure you're all right.'

  'I'm fine.' Eve turned from taking a pair of denims and cotton shin-top out of the wardrobe she had unpacked them into earlier, unembarrassed in the bra and briefs she had slept in. After all, they were both women. Now if it had been Bart...!

  'Bart's already gone out.' Maisie seemed to read her thoughts. 'He looked in on you before he went, but he said you were still fast asleep then.'

  Colour flooded her cheeks. So Bart had seen her in the bra and briefs after all!

  'I suppose you're feeling a little hungry now,' Maisie continued to talk as Eve dressed.

  'Ravenous,' she admitted with a smile, aware that she was overstating somewhat.

  'I've got some homemade soup downstairs, a nice tender steak and green salad. Bart said I was to keep it light but nutritious. There's strawberry shortcake for dessert.'

  'It sounds lovely. I hope I'm not .putting you to too .much trouble having to cook for me like this.' Eve finished buttoning her shirt. 1 could always get my own dinner,' she offered tentatively.

  'I wouldn't hear of it!' Maisie looked affronted. 'Besides, I usually cook for Bart. He very rarely has these business meetings in the evenings. It's just unfortunate that tonight should be one of those occasions.'

  Eve frowned, tucking her shirt into her denims. 'But surely he—Bart often stays in town overnight?' She tidied the bed, now ready to go down and have that delicious-sounding dinner.

  'Not that I recall,' Maisie shook her head. 'And I should know, I've looked after him here for the last four years, since his parents died.'

  'I didn't know his parents were dead.' So Bart didn't stay in town, and he didn't bring his women here either. So when did he meet them?

  'It was a boating accident.' The two women walked down the wide staircase together. 'On their second honeymoon, ironically enough.'

  'How tragic!' And she meant it. What an awful thing to happen when it was supposed to be such a happy occasion.

  'My own parents are dead too,' she revealed huskily.

  'Then you and Bart have a common bond. Of course Bart has a sister, but she lives in America now.'

  'I didn't realise.' She was learning more about Bart in these few brief minutes than she had in the rest of the time she had known him.

  'She's lived there for about five years now. Bart misses the children, I know. They used to spend a lot of time here. Many's the time I've caught one of them sliding down the banisters,' Maisie recalled with a chuckle.

  'Darren, he's the oldest boy, he's a lot like Bart was as a boy. It's like going back twenty-five years to see Darren here. Bart used to slide down the banisters too, amongst other things. He was a holy terror!'

  It was. strange to hear Bart talked of as a boy. He was such a self-assured, self-sufficient man that it was hard to believe he had ever suffered the awkwardness of being a teenager, the uncertainties of a first date, the first painful love affair.

  The smile instantly left her face as she remembered how Carl had been her first and only love affair. And now she was in love with a man who could hurt her a hundred times more than Carl ever had.

  'Bart usually eats in the small family dining-room,' Maisie told her. 'You go in and make yourself comfortable and I'll bring your soup through to you.'

  'I—Could I possibly eat in the kitchen?' Eve looked pleadingly at the older woman. 'I don't feel like being alone at the moment.' When she was alone she thought too much, and usually about Bart.

  'You come along into the kitchen with me, dear,' the housekeeper said warmly. 'Although Adam may come in later,'

  she warned.

  Eve remembered the tall, dark-haired chauffeur, a man of about thirty, rather good-looking. 'You said he's your son,'

  she said interestedly, following Maisie into the huge spotlessly clean kitchen.

  'Actually Bart told you that.' Maisie set about warming the soup. 'No, you sit down, Eve,' she was told as she went to lay the table. 'This won't take me a minute. Yes, Adam's my son.' She took a freshly baked loaf out of the cupboard. 'When my husband died it seemed only natural that Adam should take over from him as chauffeur. He and Bart grew up together. They're more like brothers than employer and employee.'

  So the formality she had witnessed that first evening had been for her benefit. In private Adam probably called Bart by his first name like his mother did. Bart was proving to be a constant surprise to her.

  'Do you and Adam live in the house?' Eve asked as she ate the delicious soup. It was years since she had had anything but the tinned variety, and this soup was a meal in itself. If all of Maisie's cooking was like this she wouldn't have any trouble putting on the pounds she had lost.

  'I do, Adam doesn't,' Maisie was watching over the steak as it grilled. 'I have a flat at the back of the house, Adam has one over the garage.' She smiled. 'There are times when a man doesn't want his mother about.'

  Eve laughed too. 'I suppose there are.'

  'Bart said your aunt and uncle are in Egypt,' Maisie went on conversationally. 'It must be interesting work.'

  Eve nodded. 'They like it.'

  'Bart had terrible trouble trying to reach your uncle. I think he must have been disconnected half a dozen times.'

  Her empty soup bowl was replaced by the steak and green salad. 'He's spoken to m
y uncle?' she asked dazedly. Maisie frowned. 'Didn't you know? Bart must have forgotten to tell you. He's been so worried about you, and he's been working day and night so that he could get this nasty embezzling business cleared up before you came out of hospital.'

  Eve was completely puzzled now. 'Embezzling?'

  'Oh yes, dear.' Maisie sat down opposite her. 'One of Bart's employees had been taking money for the past year. And he was so clever at it that no one even realised he was doing it.'

  So this was the reason Bart had been gone six days instead of the two or three he had first implied. 'I didn't know,'

  she said softly, wondering what else she didn't know.

  'Bart wouldn't want to worry you when you've been so ill. But now that you are here perhaps he'll be able to take a few days off to be with you. He really does work too hard.'

  'I doubt if my being here will stop him,' Eve said ruefully.

  'I'm sure if you asked him he would.' Maisie gave her a coy look.

  Eve bit her lip. 'I don't think you understand. Bart and I—We aren't-----'

  ‘What you are or aren't is none of my business,' the other woman said briskly. 'All I know is that you're the first woman he's seen fit to bring home in ail the time I've known him, and that's over thirty years.'

  'Oh, but I—I work for Bart,' Eve desperately tried to explain her role in Bart's life, for all she wished it could be different. 'The doctor said I should continue to rest, so Bart brought me here to make sure I do.'

  "He could have done that in one of those fancy clinics,' Maisie dismissed.

  'Oh, but-—'

  'Eat your dinner, Eve,' she was told firmly.

  Bart was right, no one argued with Maisie's instructions!

  Her thoughts were all of Bart as she ate. He must be very discreet if even the astute Maisie didn't know about the women in his life. Although the housekeeper hadn't exactly said there hadn't been any, just that she had never met them. Bart was obviously very fond of Maisie, so perhaps he was just being thoughtful by not introducing her to any of his women friends.

  Adam came into the kitchen as she was halfway through the huge piece of strawberry shortcake his mother had given her. He hesitated in the doorway as he saw her sitting at the kitchen table looking quite at home, his mother sitting opposite her drinking coffee.

  'Well, don't just stand there,' his mother encouraged. 'You're letting moths into the room.' . Still he hesitated, obviously unsure of Eve's reaction to him coming inside.

  'Join us for coffee, won't you?' she invited with a smile. 'And you really should have some of this shortcake, it's delicious,' she added enticingly.

  A smile lit his handsome features as he came in and closed the door. Out of his uniform he wore a casual checked shirt and faded denims, and he looked younger than his thirty-two years.

  Maisie stood up, smiling fondly at her son. 'I suppose now Eve's suggested it you would like something to eat?'

  'Just the shortcake will be fine.' He put his hands in his back pockets. 'I ate earlier.'

  'I can imagine,' his mother derided. 'Well, stop cluttering up my kitchen and sit down. Eve doesn't bite, do you, dear?'

  Eve had to hold back a smile at Adam's obvious embarrassment. Maisie really was incorrigible—but very likeable. She loved her already. 'I haven't been known to,' she smiled sympathetically at Adam. 'But there's always a first time. Please sit down, Adam.'

  He did so, although he still looked uncomfortable. 'I saw one of your concerts in London, Miss Meredith,' he finally spoke.

  'Please call me Eve,' she invited.

  He flushed with pleasure. 'I really enjoyed your show, Eve.'

  Thank you,' she accepted.

  Dart tells me you won't be doing any more, so I'm glad I got to see you.'

  She frowned. 'Bart told you dial?'

  Well, of course he did,' Maisie scorned. 'Anyone can see just by looking at you that you aren't suited to that sort of life.'

  Bart had told these people, obviously his friends, that her career was at an end—then why hadn't he told her? There seemed to be quite a few things he hadn't enlightened her about, including the telephone call to her uncle. She wondered what Uncle George had made of receiving a telephone call from a complete stranger. No doubt Bart had made it all seem perfectly natural, he seemed to have that effect on most people. She enjoyed her evening with the Merricks, joining in a good natured game of cards with Adam. He had thawed towards her as the evening progressed, and the two of them were now firm friends.

  'It's lucky for you we aren't playing strip-poker.' He sat back in his chair, grinning as he won yet another game.

  'You'd be stark naked by now.'

  'Adam!' his mother reproved. 'Eve's still Bart's guest, even if she doesn't mind spending time with you.'

  ‘Very true, Maisie.' Bart stood in the doorway out to the hall, pulling impatiently at the bow-tie at his throat. Cold green eyes were turned on Eve. 'I didn't expect to find you in here. It's after eleven, you should be in bed,' he said abruptly.

  She had missed him this evening, had been looking forward to seeing him, but she instantly saw red at his arrogant tone. 'I'll go to bed when I'm ready,' she snapped, ignoring how handsome he looked in the dark evening clothes, his blond hair slightly ruffled by the light breeze outside.

  'It's my fault, Bart,' Adam packed away the cards. 'I was so enjoying winning that I forgot Eve hasn't been well.'

  'I'm perfectly all right,' she defended. 'And. I'm, quite capable of deciding when I should go to bed.' She gave Bart a defiant look.

  He ignored her, talking to Maisie. 'Could I have a tray of coffee in my study?'

  'You aren't working this time of night?' she instantly scolded.

  'Yes,' he confirmed curtly. 'And make the coffee strong, Maisie. I think I'm going to need it.' He turned on his heel and walked away, and a door slammed with controlled force several seconds later. Eve looked down at her hands, blinking back the tears. She was responsible for Bart's bad mood. If only he hadn't spoken to her like that!

  Adam stood up noisily. 'Time I went, I think.'

  Eve looked up guiltily. 'It's all my fault,' she choked.

  'I didn't mean to anger him, but--'

  'You didn't, child,' Maisie soothed. 'He's just overworked and tired. I'll make the coffee, and then you can take it in to him and the two of you can make your peace.'

  Eve flushed as she realised how Maisie expected them to 'make their peace'. The older woman obviously expected them to be in each other's arms as soon as the study door was closed. If only that were the truth! But the real truth was that they would probably end up arguing, as they usually did.

  But she didn't like to disappoint the other woman, so she obediently took the tray of coffee to Bait's study.

  'Come!' came the barked command at her tentative knock. He didn't seem surprised to see her. 'Maisie : never knocks,' he explained dryly, making room on the clattered desk for her to put the tray down. She did so, running her hands nervously down her thighs. 'I'm sorry about earlier,' she said awkwardly. 'You won't be angry with Adam, will you?'

  'You like him?' he answered her question with one of his own, pouring coffee into the two cups Maisie had put on the tray and drinking his black.

  Eve frowned. 'I—Yes, I like him.'

  'Maybe you would have preferred it if you had been playing strip-poker,' he said coldly. She gasped. "You heard that?'

  Bart's mouth twisted, his black evening jacket now discarded, his shirt partly unbuttoned, the cuffs turned bock to just below the elbows. 'Yes, I heard,' he drawled. 'When I brought you here I didn't expect you to get involved with Adam.'

  'I'm not involved——'

  ‘He's attracted to you, and you say you like him.' He shrugged dismissively, leaning back in the comfortable chair that stood behind the huge mahogany desk. Books covered every wall, a sofa the same leather as the chair was placed in front of the unlit fireplace.

  'I like him, yes,' Eve said impatiently. 'But not like�
��not like----' she bit her lip, realising how close she had come to telling him of her love for him.

  'Not like the man from your past,' he finished in a chilling voice. 'Don't you think five years is enough time to have got over him?'

  'I am over him!' she insisted vehemently.

  'But don't mean to ever forget what he did to you,' Bart scorned, standing up to flex his tired back muscles. He did look very tired, she could see that now. 'Do you have to do that work this evening?’ she asked concernedly.

  'It's very late, and -----'

  'And I do have to do it,' he abruptly sat down again. 'My assistant turned out to be a crook, and now I have to double check everything he's ever been involved-in.'

  Her eyes widened. 'Your assistant was the embezzler?'

  His mouth twisted. 'Maisie told you.'

  Eve flushed. 'She—she seems to think we're good friends. I tried to explain, but----'

  'Maisie is a romantic at heart,' he mocked.

  'She's a very genuine person,' Eve defended indignantly. 'I like her very much.'

  He nodded. 'Most people do. Sit down and drink your coffee,'he invited tersely. She did so watching as he bent over the papers on his desk. 'Couldn't someone else do that?' she ventured after several minutes' silence.

  Bart looked up, blinking to focus on her. He put his gold pen down, leaning back with a sigh. 'After the way Sean let me down I'm not sure I can trust someone else to do it. He'd been with me ten years. I never would have believed it of him if I hadn't been the one to discover his discrepancies.'

  'I'm sorry.' It sounded as if Sean had been a personal friend as well as an employee.

  'So am I,' he said heavily, running a hand around the back of his neck.

  'Does it ache?'

  'Mm?' he frowned his puzzlement.

  'Your nape, does it ache?'

  'Yes,' Bart sighed.

  'Would you like me to——' she broke off. 'No, never mind.' She looked away, blushing.

  'Would I like you to ...?' he prompted softly.

  She looked down at her hands, wishing she had never started this. 'My uncle—he often gets an ache there, it comes from bending down so much, I think.

  Anyway,' she licked her dry lips, 'I usually—massage it for him.'