Her father went silent.
“Dad? Is something wrong?”
He heaved out a breath like he dreaded telling her something. Did it have to do with Darius? A little knot of worry started to grow in her belly.
“Tell me.”
“You’re not getting close to him, are you?”
“So what if I am?” The knot tightened.
“Oh, Evie. I didn’t want to say anything, but when you mentioned his name, it tickled my memory. It was something that happened after you left.”
She slowly sat on the bed. Her father was referring to the time after her horrible almost-wedding when she’d fled Boston. As it always did at the memory, the acid in her stomach roiled, making her a little queasy. What couldherdisaster have to do with Darius?
“He was engaged,” her father said.
“Yes. He told me that. Dad, just get on with it.”
“He stood her up at the altar.”
A sharp burning stabbed through her chest, part of it the remembered pain from the day made worse by a fresh, new agony.No. No.Eve’s throat tightened, and her eyes burned. Her father had it wrong. Darius would never do that.
“You must be remembering wrong,” she was finally able to croak out.
“She was high society so he was marrying up, and it was in all the papers. After what you’d been through, it wasn’t something I’d be likely to forget. We never mentioned it to you because, well, you know.”
Yes, she did know. For eight years she’d been running away from that pain, and all she’d managed to do was run into a man who had done the very same thing to someone else. She couldn’t bear the thought of being in the same room with him now.
“Evie?” her father asked softly. “I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, Daddy, I have to go. Please think about how to help your father.” She disconnected the phone and curled up on the bed, pulling the pillow over her head.
She didn’t know how long she lay there, but she finally rose from the bed and went into the bathroom to wash her face. It was a mess, her eyes and nose red and swollen. Makeup should cover the worst of it. It was a good thing she didn’t have her father’s fair complexion.
Eve took the black dress from her closet, trying to forget Darius’s interest in seeing her in it. If she hadn’t worn the flowered one the night before . . . but no. That’d been the one she’d had on at dinner with him. The one where he’d almost kissed her. The lump in her throat made it hard to swallow. Blinking to keep from messing up her makeup, she slipped it on. Could she get to the dining room without seeing him?
Carefully, she eased open her door and looked outside. No one was in the hallway, so she stepped out and began to tiptoe past his door. She could hear their voices inside and was almost past it when it opened.
“Eve, you’re ready before us,” Darius said. “Turn around and let me see you.”
She shook her head and hurried toward the stairs. He took her hand and stopped her forward motion.
“What’s the matter? Did you hear bad news from your father?”
Eve told herself not to start crying again, but she couldn’t speak either. She shook her head.
“Please tell me what’s wrong,” Darius said, his voice gentle and concerned.
Her eyes brimming with tears, she turned around. Joe stood a pace behind, his expression worried. She resigned herself to talk to Darius but in private.
“Joe, do you mind?” she asked.
He shrugged and stepped back. Darius opened her door and then followed her inside.
* * *
The usual warmthDarius felt when he was with Eve had disappeared when she’d faced him in the hallway. Now, alone with her, her expression chilled him. It was like someone had put an ice wall between them.
