“Wow, that’s neat. Do you have a handle?”
“All truckers on the Citizen Band radio have handles.”
“What’s yours?”
“Casanova.”
“Casanova?”
“Yes.” And before she could ask him anything else, he said, “We’re getting close to that construction zone, so I need to concentrate on the road for a while, Eden.”
He figured she got the message. He was beginning to know her, and was sure she would ask about his choice of handle. She could ask, but there would be no discussion. It was what it was, and her thoughts on it didn’t matter to him.
When she shifted in her seat and turned to look out the side window as if dismissing him, he felt a little bothered that their conversation had ended with her thinking the worst of him. And because of it, her smile had been replaced by a frown. Hell, he suddenly realized that her thoughts did matter.
**
Eden stared outside the window. It didn’t matter that the highway lighting barely illuminated the interstate, or that she couldn’t make out any scenery. All that mattered to her was hiding the disappointment in her features from Drew. He didn’t see a problem calling himself Casanova. Did he admire the Italian so much that he likened his lifestyle to his?
Part of her college curriculum included combined classes on French and Italian studies, which meant she was very familiar with Giacomo Casanova and his numerous seductions, which included little or no emotional commitment to the women he was involved with. He had even written memoirs about his extensive sexual exploits.
So why did she care what Drew called himself or the lifestyle he preferred? Like he said, those women were single and old enough to resist a cad like him. But could she honestly referto him as a cad? He had said he explained his position to the women before becoming involved with them, so he hadn’t truly dishonored them. Was it his fault that they had wanted him in their bed so much they had accepted his terms, and he had happily obliged?
What Drew did and with whom or how many, was not her problem. It was his, to handle as he saw fit. However, the thought of him spending the holidays without his family was sad. But then, wouldn’t she be spending the holidays without hers? The reasons for their predicaments might be different, but the end result was the same.
Eden knew why Drew’s words had disappointed her. The man he described, the womanizer, was not the knight in shining armor she had assumed him to be. Still, for him to be as much of a Lothario as he claimed, it was surprising that he hadn’t once gotten out of line with her. But then he’d made it clear that he thought she was too young to interest a thirty-year-old man. Maybe for her, that was a good thing. She had enough to deal with, and didn’t need to add a testosterone-laden skirt-chaser to the mix. Having to deal with a controlling Elijah Tyson was enough.
Besides, she knew what she wanted out of life, and right now, it did not include getting in a serious relationship with anyone. She had a modeling career that had gotten off to a good start. If she could remain hidden at least through the holidays, then make it to Paris, she’d be happy. Although she couldn’t say her troubles would be over, they would certainly be more manageable.
And the first thing she intended to do in Paris was to get an international restraining order. It was time to show her father she meant business.
Once Drew drove beyond this stretch of hazardous highway, she would tell him what Sophie had told her about her fatherexpanding his search. She’d also let him know about the plan Mark and Sophie had devised.
She glanced out the front window and saw that state troopers had pulled several cars over, probably for speeding. She also saw all the cautionary blinking lights advising vehicles to slow down due to road construction, and understood that Drew needed to concentrate on safely navigating beyond this area. Getting a little sleepy from the gentle rocking of the truck as it maneuvered over the uneven pavement, she eventually leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. It had been one heck of a day.
**
Drew pulled his truck into the hotel’s parking lot designated for eighteen-wheelers. He chose this particular place because he’d had a long-standing relationship with it since the days he’d first started driving for the Steele Corporation, back when he’d been in his early twenties. They always gave him the same room, if it was available -the last one on the breezeway, located on the ground floor. He preferred easy outdoor access, the smell of clean fresh air when he opened the door, and an easy escape if one had to be made. Although he only bedded single women, you never knew when one might decide to lie.
That exact thing happened six years ago in Florida. The woman felt justified in saying she was single because she and her husband had been separated for a year. Unfortunately, her husband hadn’t thought the same way and had shown up at the hotel the next morning with two of his brothers. Luckily, other truckers–friends of his–had happened to be at the hotel and had held the guy back while Drew had made his daring escape through a third-floor window.
He glanced over at Eden. Why did he like the way she looked when she slept? Probably because it made her seem sexy. Her stillness allowed him to really pay attention to the fullness of herlips, the cute shape of her nose, the angular set of her jaw, and those ultra-long lashes without being distracted by her beautiful green eyes. When she was awake, her eyes were what grabbed anyone’s attention. Especially his. At times, he just couldn’t get over how gorgeous she was. Even without makeup, her natural beauty was too striking, too stunning, and too breathtaking to be real. But it was.
He was starting to have a really hard time remembering she was off-limits. In a way, he couldn’t wait to get to Memphis and part ways with her. But once there, what would she do? As she’d said, her situation wouldn’t change; she would still be broke and evading her father.
He had even thought of calling his cousins, Harold and Lester, for advice as to what to do with her. But was it fair to get them involved? Especially, if her father was the tyrant she made him out to be. The last thing he wanted to do was to deliver a problem to their doorstep.
His father had always told him that whenever a real man had a problem, he didn’t pass that problem on to someone else. It was his responsibility to find a solution. But the only solution Drew could see was to take her as far as Tennessee, to Memphis.
Then what?
He was about to get out of the truck when Eden stirred, and in her sleep, she mumbled something. He leaned in closer when he heard his name. When she didn’t say anything else, he was about to straighten up in his seat when she said, “Drew is not a knight in shining armor.”
He drew in a deep breath. Her opinion of him shouldn’t matter, but he would only be fooling himself if he said it didn’t.
CHAPTER 7
“Wake up, Eden.”
