The Care and Feeding of Unmarried Men (12 page)

H
inged screens were set up in three corners of the dressmaker's large workroom. Joey and Téa were already behind two of them, changing into their gowns when Eve walked in. She smiled to herself. The excitement of this final fitting was likely to blow out of the water any talk of what had happened at the party the night before.

Téa would be too preoccupied to tell Joey about catching Nash and Eve in the bathroom. She wouldn't have to defend, pretend, or explain it away.

Which was good, because she didn't have any idea how to rationalize to her sisters, let alone herself, how she'd gotten into such a potentially compromising position. She'd only been thinking of how quickly he could distract her from her fear. How easy it was to lean on him. How strong his arms felt around her. But that had
been her stupid panic talking. No man was reliable. The only one she could depend on was herself.

“Come in, come in,” Mrs. Diaz said, gesturing Eve further into the room with a hand holding a tomato-shaped pincushion. “Your dress is hanging right behind that screen over there.”

“Is that you, Eve?” Joey's head popped around the edge of the screen in the opposite corner. “We thought you might be avoiding us.”

“Avoiding you why? I wouldn't miss the unveiling of the dresses for anything.”

Joey grinned. “Unless you didn't want to talk about your private prayer session in the bathroom with The Preacher last night.”

Eve groaned. “Téa…”

“Sorry,” her sister called back, sounding not the least bit repentant. “It wasn't me, it was Johnny who spilled the beans.”

Joey shook her finger at Eve and slipped into her Ricky Ricardo imitation. “Lucy, you have some 'splaining to do.”

Instead, Eve rolled her eyes and escaped to her own corner of the room. “So, uh, Joe, why don't you tell me about your latest visit to prison and Uncle Benny.”

“Oh, yeah, as if I'd fall for that,” Joey retorted. “I want details, everything from ‘hello' to how you ended up on his lap. For a man you said thought you were the devil incarnate, he sure isn't afraid to get singed.”

Except Nash singed me,
Eve thought, recalling how she'd melted in his hands. Maybe he was right. Maybe she did have a thing about him and sex.

She pushed the idea away by turning her attention to the bridesmaid's dress hanging behind the screen. Her forefinger ran down the cool pale satin of the
full-length skirt. Téa was having a formal evening wedding, but she'd opted to wear black and carry red roses, while her two attendants would be dressed in bridal ivory and carry bouquets of creamy gardenias.

“Do you remember how we used to plan our weddings before going to sleep?” Eve asked her sisters. The three of them had shared a room, and after attending a cousin's nuptials one June Saturday, they'd spent an entire set of summer nights imagining their own big events.

Téa laughed. “I sure do. Joey was eleven and didn't see anything wrong with marrying both Siegfried
and
Roy.”

“I really just wanted those tigers,” Joey admitted.

“Well, you've always liked your men with a dangerous edge,” Téa said. “But I don't recall anything about your groom, Eve.”

“Because she didn't want one,” Joey put in. “She only wanted the fancy dress and the big party. Even then she didn't think there was any guy good enough for her. Already wedded to her ego.”

“Joe?” Eve asked pleasantly, as she loosened the tie of the wrap dress she'd put on that morning.

“What?”

“Just so you know, later today I'm going to staple your earlobes to your shoulder blades.”

“All the better to hear your explanation about doing the naughty with the monster-truck man.”

Téa laughed.

Eve hung her dress on a hook and carefully lifted the satin bridesmaid's gown off the padded hanger. “Don't encourage her, big sister. It's bad karma and you'll end up gaining five pounds and getting a big zit on the day before the wedding.”

“Now that is plain cruel,” Téa complained. “Just for mentioning weight and blemishes in the same sentence, I'm going to tell Joey something Johnny didn't.”

Eve paused in the process of sliding the dress over her head. “Fine. Except don't forget the only reason you know about me and Nash in the first place is that you were making whoopee in the middle of the party yourself.”

Téa didn't respond to that. “She looked dreamy, Joe,” she said instead. “Not just flushed and tousled, but dreamy.”

The white satin gown fell around Eve just as Téa finished. She met her own eyes in the long mirror propped against the screen. Dreamy? No way. She hadn't had a dream involving a man that wasn't a nightmare since she was twelve years old. It was the same with the wedding fantasies. Like any normal girl she'd loved thinking about the fairy-tale dress and the glittery presents, but she'd never fooled herself into believing that some man would stay.

That some groom would love her forever.

She didn't want to love anyone that way herself. It left too much room for heartache and disappointment. Look where loving had gotten Bianca—married to a man who cheated and who expected his wife to raise his lover's daughter. Face it, relying on a man—for his fidelity or his love—didn't make good sense.

Sucking in a breath, she slid up the invisible zipper on the side of the dress and then appraised her appearance in the mirror.

Eggshell-colored satin made tiny sleeves that fell coyly over her shoulders. The bodice was a wide U-shape that revealed just a hint of the top rise of her breasts. Then the dress fit snugly around her waist and
hips, to pool at her ankles in a slight, elegant train. Eve rose on her tiptoes to simulate the height of the matching pumps they'd ordered.

“Hey, Eve, how does yours look?” Joey called out.

It looked…

It looked…

“Oh, no.” Téa's voice had an anxious edge. “Is it bad? How bad? I thought the style would flatter both of you, but if it doesn't, you've got to be honest, Eve. I'm counting on you to tell the truth, because we both know Joey will lie through her teeth if she thinks she's being loyal to the family.”

“I resemble that remark,” Joey said cheerfully. “But really, I think I look pretty darn decent.”

“Eve?” Téa prompted.

Eve gazed at herself in the mirror, at the gleam of the satin and the faint tinge of warmth on her cheekbones. Her eyes looked very pure, very blue.

“Eve?”
Téa said again, her voice edging higher.

“I—” A startling thought came out of nowhere.
I want Nash to see me in this dress
.

And it
was
startling, because it wasn't the kind of dress a woman wore for a man. It wasn't a dress made to knock his intellect out cold while tickling his libido—the only kind of dress she should want to wear around Nash Cargill. That kind of dress would give her the power. This kind of dress…

Made her look like a bride. Someone a man would want to spend his life being faithful to. Someone a man would want to be the mother of his children.
I get a kick out of the kids,
he'd said. And she'd pictured him with some of his own cute Cargill bugs.

Which immediately squashed that silly little notion about Nash and her brideful self. The Party Girl would
certainly never be The Preacher's idea of mother material.

Sending herself a brittle smile, she swept her hair over her shoulders, then stepped out from behind the screen. “I think it's lovely, Téa. I think it's perfect for your big day.”

Joey was already standing in the middle of the room, admiring herself in another set of mirrors. The gown worked just as well for her much more petite figure. Against the ivory, her golden skin gleamed, and her velvet-dark eyes looked full of mysterious fire. “You're the angel, Joe,” Eve said. “You look as if you're just about to unfold your wings and head off for heaven.”

Joey met her eyes in the mirror. “We look good, but I bet Téa will look even better.”

They both turned to watch their big sister step from behind her screen.

Eve's heart jumped to her throat. Téa didn't look bridelike at all. She looked…“Royal,” she heard herself say. “Powerful.” Her older sister had the same apricot-gold skin as Joey, but her body had more height and more curves. The color of her dress was deeper than black, it was a primitive, primeval color, that ran along the lines of Téa's body like a dark river.

“You're going to be a terrific foil for Johnny's blonde looks,” Joey said.

Téa burst out laughing. “You brat. How'd you know I chose it with just that in mind?”

“Because you're an interior designer. You're not just dressing your body, you're setting a scene.”

“The golden boy and the pagan queen,” Eve agreed. “You're going to slay him.”

Téa's smile turned sly. “Just what I had in mind. Have to keep him in line every chance I get.”

That's where Eve had gone wrong with Nash, she realized. Controlling men came second nature to her, but he shattered every hold she had on him. He was attracted to her, he desired her, that was obvious, but instead of her using that against him, he…

Used her attraction, her desire for him against
her
.

That's what had gone wrong at the party. She'd let him use sex to get a hold on her—a move that was usually hers.

“Oh, my God!” Joey exclaimed.

Eve started, then shot her sister a glance. “What is it? What's the matter?”

Joey pointed a finger at her. “I saw it! Téa's right! You were looking dreamy.”

“I was not.” Eve curled her lip and tried looking whatever the opposite of “dreamy” was. “You have me mixed up with someone else.”

“I do not. Nobody knows you better than me…except maybe Téa, and she's already caught you looking dreamy-eyed. That Nash Cargill has really gotten under your skin.”

“He has not.” Eve shot a look of appeal at her older sister. “No man gets to me. You tell her, Téa.”

“I'd like him to get to you, Eve.”

“What?” She took an involuntary step back. “That's because you've gone all the way gooey since you fell for Johnny. But some of us don't need to fall in love to enjoy men and to enjoy sex.”

“I know you've enjoyed the sex, Eve. But have you honestly ever enjoyed the men?”

Licking her lips, Eve darted a glance at Joey. No help there. Her little sister was looking at her with narrowed eyes, an assessing Italian angel. Joey had a legion
of guy-pals. There was no doubt she enjoyed the men in her life.

But Eve had never had one male friend. She'd never told a single man about her claustrophobia, let alone the incident with the FBI that was its cause. Her heart jumped into her throat again. “Maybe you should mind your own business,” she said. “Maybe you don't know one thing about me.”

Téa's expression froze. The back of Eve's neck burned hot, and she didn't dare look at Joey. Though the two youngest traded insults on a regular basis, neither of them ever attacked their oldest sister. Téa was too serious, too responsible, too caring to shrug off the usual sibling barbs.

And that hadn't been a usual sibling barb. It had been a poison-tipped arrow wrapped in Eve's own fear of Téa's question.
“Have you honestly ever enjoyed the men?”

No. Not once. Never.

Until Nash. She enjoyed the way he teased her. She enjoyed the way he treated his sister. She enjoyed the way he looked and the way he touched her. The way she wanted to touch him.

Oh, God.

She swallowed. “I'm sorry, Téa. I didn't mean that to come out the way it sounded.”

Her older sister spun away to stare at her reflection in the mirror. “Don't worry about it.”

Eve's neck burned hotter, and her stomach shriveled to the size of a walnut. “No. Really. It's just that…”

I've lost everything
.

I'm in trouble with the SEC
.

I don't know what Nash is doing to me
.

Téa's spine was ramrod-straight, and Eve had to grip her fingers together so she wouldn't grab her sister's shoulders and cry all over the back of her brand-new bridal gown. She hated the idea that she'd hurt someone who'd only been generous with their father, her family, and her love all these years. But Eve couldn't excuse herself without confessing to all the things she didn't want the Carusos to know.

She didn't want to be more trouble for the family that had done so much for her.

“I'm sorry, Téa,” she mumbled, staring down at her bare feet and wishing she could take back so much of the last months of her life.

“I'll forgive you,” her sister said, “on one condition.”

Eve looked up. “What condition?”

“Johnny bought a table for the hospital auxiliary's masquerade ball at the end of next week. You have to sit with us. Joey's coming.”

“No problem.” It had been on the Party Girl's calendar in any case.

“Invite Nash Cargill, too.”

“No!” Good Lord. Her big sister obviously wanted to play matchmaker. “Come on, it was fifteen minutes in a bathroom, not a sign of true love.”

Joey sidled closer. “Afraid you'll get dreamy again?”

Eve shook her head. “You two are sad.”

Téa turned. “Then make us happy. Invite Nash.”

Eve hesitated. It was a ridiculous request, of course. But Téa had never treated her as less than a one-hundred-percent sister, and she gave far more than she ever asked for. Then there was that sense that she herself was spinning out of control. If she invited Nash and he agreed to come, she could prove to herself at
the masquerade that at least one thing in her life was stable.

That she still held all the cards when it came to men.