Risky (Torn Between Two Lovers #2)(11)

Thinking about it, I didn’t care. I’d rather see her angry than looking lost, alone or scared.

I was more than ready to be preoccupied with Eva and her protests.

Ultimately, I knew I would win.

I always did.





Chapter Four



Eva





It really annoyed me that Trace Walker thought I wasn’t capable of taking care of myself. Granted, it might look that way from his perspective, but now that I was going to have a job, a chance at a better life, I’d be fine.

As long he never finds out…

Abruptly, I banished the negative thought from my mind. He’d made a promise, and he wouldn’t break it. I hoped.

I had been upset when he’d told me he’d taken care of my landlord after I asked him not to do it. I had money now, his check safely deposited in my checking account. I was perfectly capable of taking care of my own problems.

We’d argued about the money, too, but he’d insisted on me taking the offered pay of twenty-five thousand up front, and I’d finally decided to just take it. I could give him back what I didn’t need once this farce was over.

Somehow I need to find a way to stop arguing with him!

Maybe if he wasn’t such an arrogant, highhanded dick, we could get along.

I smiled just a little, admitting to myself that his arrogance fueled my temper. Not that I hadn’t met conceited men, but not one quite like him. Even in his most pompous and audacious moments, he was thinking about my welfare. It didn’t completely deflate me, but it made it damn hard to hate him.

Trace Walker was used to being obeyed. Being bossy was obviously in his DNA.

“You look amazing, darling,” a low, female voice crooned, the voice of my new stylist.

I actually have a stylist for God’s sake.

Claudette was superficial, but pleasant enough to be around. I guessed she was probably in her sixties, but she was brilliantly put together, not one dark hair out of place. She was sporting a chic business look that I hoped I could pull off some day.

She stopped fussing with the red cocktail dress I was trying on, and I turned to look in the full length mirror in my assigned bedroom, still not used to being in a place so enormous and elegant.

I’d spent my first night in Trace’s expansive home wandering around in a daze, almost getting lost in the process, before I finally collapsed on the beautiful sleigh bed in this bedroom, a space that Trace nonchalantly assigned as my quarters for the time being.

I froze as my eyes caught my reflection, looking back at an image I barely recognized.

My hair had been trimmed into a sleek style that left it curling around my shoulders. Claudette had worked some kind of magic with carefully applied makeup, and explained how to do it myself. The dress, that ended in a sophisticated swirl right below my knees, had tight long sleeves that clung to my arms like a second skin, and left most of my back bare. It wasn’t a style I was used to wearing, and I’d never felt so naked in something that was long-sleeved.


“It’s…nice.” I could barely keep myself from gaping.

I looked like a different woman; I felt like a different woman.

“You look beautiful, Eva.” Trace spoke low and husky from the doorway of my bedroom.

I turned to him, my eyes meeting his after he assessed me carefully. My body started to burn beneath his heated stare.

“Thanks. But I don’t really think I need this many clothes.” I nearly tripped on my matching high heels as I stepped back from the mirror to face him.

I’d been hooked up with a complete wardrobe. Claudette was taking back the items she hadn’t liked; unfortunately, she liked far too many of them.

Trace looked at Claudette. “Thank you. I think you’re finished here.”

The older woman nodded and started to walk toward the door, skirting around Trace. “I’ll have my staff pick up the equipment and the clothes that weren’t appropriate later, Mr. Walker.” She left hurriedly, knowing she had been dismissed.

Trace lifted his brow. “The clothes are part of the deal.”

I propped my hands on my hips. “Not this many of them. Where am I going to wear this kind of dress?”

He shrugged. “Parties. I have a corporate Christmas party to attend this year, and I need you to be there. I told you that this needs to be believable.”

My heart raced at the thought of being on Trace’s arm for any event. Just being in his company made me edgy. “You still haven’t told me why.”

I let go of my earlier anger, telling myself I needed to treat this as a job.

Trace moved into my bedroom - which was twice the size of my studio apartment, I might add - and sat down on the oversized ledge of the window seat.

I toed off my heels and moved to the bed. I sat in the middle of the enormous beige and floral quilt and crossed my legs, pulling the skirt over them. I could sense he was going to tell me something important, and I stayed silent.

Trace propped a strong shoulder against the wall. “You know that your mother and my father died in a plane crash?”

I nodded. I knew how my mother had met her demise soon after her wedding to Trace’s father.

“My youngest brother was on board that private jet, too, and he survived…just barely. He was burned and scarred, and even with plastic surgery, he still has scars inside and out.” He paused for a moment and then continued, “I was supposed to be on that plane with them, but I had final exams. I was graduating from college. I had to leave as soon as the ceremony was over. So did my middle brother, Sebastian. Dane was the only one whose classes and exams had ended because he was at a different school, so he stayed a few more days.”