Unexpected Eva (Triple Trouble #3)(13)
Eva knows her stats.
She takes in a huge gasp of air. “Is this it? It can’t be? Can it?”
I don’t know if she is asking me or speaking to herself, but I answer.
“The one and only.”
“I… I… I think I might faint,” she mutters, astonished. “This whole time, my dream car is sitting in your garage. Here. In Castleview Cove. I think I’m hallucinating.”
This is her dream car. I shake my head, baffled. “How the hell do you know so much about cars?”
And how does she know the specifications of my ten-million-pound investment?
“I love cars. I watch this American dude on the television. The Revamp…”
“Champ.” I finish her sentence.
Well, what do you know?
“It’s the only television program I watch,” I tell her.
Managing a five-star resort is a full-time job and then some. I don’t have time to binge series after series, but that is the only one I make time for.
“I love it,” she stares wide-eyed at my supercharged beauty.
“The program or the car.”
“The car, silly,” she scoffs. “Look at her.” She spreads her arms wide, then clutches her hands to her chest.
I don’t know what I expected Eva to be like, but she’s a complete surprise. I take her in as she stares with hearts in her eyes, standing in her blue silk evening gown, wearing my dress jacket which is a billion sizes too big for her, and she’s talking about cars. Now that is a turn-on. She’s smart, refreshing, gorgeous, and we share the same interests.
It’s just a coincidence, Knox. Stop overanalyzing this. Two nights. Just two nights.
“Have you ever driven her?” Her inquisitive face stirs something in me.
“Yeah, a couple of times.”
“Wow. What does she sound like?”
“Beautiful.”
I don’t know if I’m talking about her or the car at this point.
“Best Friday night. Ever,” she whispers to herself, smiling widely.
It’s about to get a whole heap better, gorgeous girl.
“If it’s dry tomorrow, we can take her out,” I suggest. What am I saying? We’ve said we are supposed to be keeping us a secret; we shouldn’t be seen together. And now I’ve labeled the gender of my car too.
“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow. Typical Scotland. You cannot take her out in the rain. Does she have a name?”
“No.”
“That’s a travesty. She needs a name, Knox.” I love the way she says my name in her soft and soothing voice.
“Name her then.” What the hell am I saying?
“Me? You want me to name her?” She points at the resplendent supercar.
“Yes.” I dip a quick nod.
“Well, that’s easy. Lydia. That’s what I would call her if she was mine. It’s Greek for—”
“Beautiful one.” I know what that means.
“How do you know that?”
“My mother is Greek.”
She blinks at me with realization. “Ah, that’s where your Mediterranean features come from?”
I bob my head.
“You’re very handsome, Knox.”
“And you are the most beautiful woman I know.”
She is.
She wraps her arms around herself, bows her head, then quickly snaps it back up again and looks directly at me. “Thank you.”
I hold my hand out, gesturing for her to take it, picking up her overnight bag as I walk toward her. I guide her through the side garage door leading into my house.
I’m actually doing this.
CHAPTER 4
Eva
As I think back over the last few hours of my bizarre evening, I remember how I longed to see inside a home on Cherry Gardens Lane.
Well, at midnight on a bitter cold Friday night in November, I’m standing in one. Exactly what I wished for came true.
And it’s… I’m not sure I have the words for it.
Extraordinary?
Splendid? Nope, that’s not it.
Magnificent? That’s not it either.
Palatial? Yes! That’s it.
Edge to edge luxury.
I’m in awe.
And I feel utterly out of place in this palace Knox lives in.
“Do you live here alone now?”
“Yes. Sometimes, when Lincoln is too lazy to walk the extra three hundred yards to his own house farther down the garden, he stays in his old room. But it’s just me.”
“Wow. How many bedrooms does this have?” I tiptoe farther into the large kitchen area, clicking my heels delicately against the sparkling black tiled floor. It’s like an ebony sea of glitter against the stark matte-white kitchen units.
“Only nine. I converted two into a large office.”
“Nine,” I whisper to myself.
The whole footprint of my compact house would fit into the kitchen and dining area alone.
“I love your kitchen.” I eye up the sleek white cast iron Lacanche induction cooker. Those things cost at least ten grand. How do I know this? Because I want one, that's why.
My parents were far from hard up when I was young. They put all three of us through dance school, and now they own the top sports retreat in Scotland for pro athletes, but this, this is next level wealth.