Christmas Alpha (14 page)

 
Eva hadn’t seen or heard from Finn since that day.

 
Until now.

 
She looked down at the invitation again. Strangely there was no RSVP at the bottom of the gold-embossed card. No telephone number either. Just the time and place of the exhibition.

 
Did she want to go, if only out of curiosity?

 
As a way of seeing Finn again?

 
Or did she stay away from the exhibition, and the man who was capable of ripping her heart from her chest, if this should turn out to be an ‘out of politeness’ invitation, and Finn barely acknowledged her existence?
 

“One of us is either over or underdressed...”

 
Finn froze in his pacing of the gallery, a tingling sensation running the length of his neck and down his spine as he slowly turned to face the doorway.

 
Eva...

 
The breath caught at the back of his throat at how beautiful she looked in a bright red, knee-length, figure-hugging dress, her hair dark and glossy as it flowed loosely over her shoulders and down the length of her spine.

 
God, she looked so beautiful.

 
“Please tell me I haven’t come here on the wrong night...?” She looked thoroughly confused as she glanced about the empty and dimly lit gallery, with only Finn present and standing back in the shadows.

 
He moistened his lips before speaking. “No, you have the right night,” he assured huskily.

 
Eva didn’t know what to make of any of this.
 

 
She had hesitated outside the gallery for several minutes after the taxi dropped her off, confused by the fact that the gallery door was closed and it appeared to be fairly dark inside, blinds pulled down over all the windows.
 

 
She had expected it to be ablaze with lights, and possibly members of the press outside wanting to interview the private guests before they entered the gallery.

 
Eva had steeled herself for just such an occurrence after making the decision to accept Finn’s invitation.

 
How could she give up the chance to see Finn again one last time?

 
And so she had showered and washed her hair, put on her favorite red dress and some make-up, and then gone downstairs to get in a taxi. Before she had time to change her mind!
 

 
But instead of the glitz and glamour she had been expecting there was just the empty gallery and these dimmed gallery lights, with Finn himself pacing inside.
 

 
Even so, he was a much more familiar-looking Finn than that day at the court; tonight he wore a dark t-shirt and a pair of faded denims low on his hips—unfortunately, with all of the buttons fastened, Eva noted with disappointment.

 
His hair had also grown long again in the past three weeks. That rich dark hair that Eva had so enjoyed entangling her fingers in when he had thrust inside her again and again and she had cried out—

 
“What’s going on, Finn?” She frowned at the strangeness of the situation.
 

 
He stepped forward, and Eva drew in her breath as she now saw that he was thinner in the face than when she had last seen him, and there was an unfamiliar wariness in those Irish-blue eyes, a grim set to those perfectly sculpted lips.
 

 
Understandably so, after the strain he had been under these past seven weeks.

 
The media hadn’t been quite so frenzied around Finn recently though, but no doubt they had continued to make life pretty grim for him.
 

 
Finn had insisted throughout the investigation that Eva had merely been an innocent courier delivering a parcel, and then had become caught up in Moira’s insanity because of becoming stranded in the blizzard. A case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
 

 
As a consequence, Eva had been allowed to fade back into obscurity once the court hearing was over.

 
“You’re looking well,” he told her gruffly.

 
“You’re not,” she came back candidly.

 
Finn gave a grin—without a doubt the first time he’d genuinely smiled since he’d last seen Eva. “Brutally honest, as usual,” he drawled as he stepped further into the light.
 

 
She gave a shrug as she looked around the empty studio. “Where’s everyone else?”

 
Finn ate her up with his eyes. God, he had been hungry just for the sight of her these past three weeks. “There is no one else.”

 
She gave a shake of her head, midnight hair moving like silk across her shoulders as she turned back to him. “I don’t understand...”

 
Finn held out his hand to her. “Come with me and I’ll show you.”

 
Eva stared down at that strong artistic hand.
 

 
The same hand that had grabbed hold of the gun being aimed at Eva. Possibly saving her life.
 

 
The same hand that had touched her, caressed her, made love to her. Utterly ruining her for anyone else.

 
Finn hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath until he exhaled with an audible sigh as Eva tentatively placed her much smaller hand into his.
 

 
As an indication that she trusted him?

 
God, he hoped so.

 
These past three weeks, staying away from Eva had been absolute hell, as he first allowed the frenzy of the media to abate, and then gave Eva the space and time to get over those nightmare events from Christmas and the New Year.
 

 
The only thing that had kept him sane was keeping busy preparing the set of photographs he was about to share with Eva.

 
“Where are your photographs, Finn?” She looked in confusion at the bare walls in the main gallery.

 
He drew in a deep breath. “The public exhibition isn’t until next week.”

 
Eva’s frown deepened as she wondered what was going on. Why Finn had invited her, and her alone, here tonight.

 
Eva gave a shake of her head. “I still don’t understand...”
 

 
“You will, I hope.”

 
She stared at him blankly for several long seconds, and then her cheeks became flushed as realization dawned. “You’re new exhibition is those photographs you took of
me
...?”
 

 
In the confusion of the night of Moira Summers’ death, and then the weeks that had followed, Eva hadn’t given another thought to the photographs Finn had taken of her that day.

Chapter 14

Eva came to a halt as Finn released her hand to switch on the lights in a smaller gallery at the back of the building, revealing walls that were adorned with at least two dozen perfectly lit black and white photographs.

 
All of them of Eva.

 
She crossed the room as if in a dream, totally absorbed as she moved from photograph to photograph.

 
When she had asked Finn about them that day in North Wales, he had told her the photographs of her were beautiful, but this… This was so much more than Eva could ever have imagined.

 
Because of the subject, the mistress, and the poses Finn had demanded of her that day, Eva had fully expected the photographs to portray raw sexuality. A woman ripe for carnal pleasure. A siren. Temptation incarnate.

 
Instead Finn had captured the depth of beauty and sensuality that was a woman. The joy, the expectation, the promise of pleasure, in every shadowed dip and curve.

 
True to his word, Finn had ensured that her face was never revealed. But Eva recognized herself, nonetheless.

 
Finn’s anxiety grew exponentially as he watched and waited for Eva reaction. His heart pounded in his chest as she walked slowly around the gallery, looking at each photograph, her face in the shadows and her expression unreadable.

 
He still had no idea whether or not she liked them. “These photographs will never be seen by anyone else but me,” he assured her softly.

 
Eva’s eyebrows rose as she turned to look at him. “They aren’t ‘The Mistress’?”

 
“Hell, no,” he rasped harshly as he stepped forward, and then stopped again as he realized that he and Eva still had a lot to talk about.

 
He probably shouldn’t have done things this way. Should have just telephoned Eva and invited her out to dinner, like any other man interested in dating a woman, rather than setting up this evening.

 
“Do you have a name for these photographs, Finn?” Eva looked across at him curiously.
 

 
Finn’s anxiety rose to new heights as he wondered how best to answer her.
 

 
With the truth, idiot, he instantly reprimanded himself. If anyone deserved that then it was Eva.

 
The Eva who had insisted on standing at his side during the media frenzy that had followed Moira’s death. The Eva whose determination had never wavered, despite having been hounded by that same media every time she so much as stepped outside of the London apartment she had returned to after the Christmas holidays, in preparation for resuming her university degree, which she had now done, presumably.
 

 
Eva had handled it all with great dignity and strength, completely unflappable, before, during, and after the hearing on Moira’s death.

 
She deserved the absolute truth from him in return.

 
He drew in a deep breath before answering her. “I call them ‘Love’. Don’t panic,” he added quickly as Eva’s eyes widened. “I’m not expecting… Oh hell!” He ran a hand agitatedly through his hair as he could no longer meet Eva’s gaze. “As far as I’m concerned, these photographs—
your
photographs, are the image of the perfect woman. A woman of both sensual promise and innocence. Of what every man dreams of—or should dream of—possessing for himself.” He closed his eyes, knowing that his dreams of Eva these past weeks had been the only thing that had helped to keep the nightmares of Moira at bay.
 

 
Eva chewed on her bottom lip, knowing it would be so easy to misunderstand what Finn was now saying to her. That he could just be telling her that the photographs of her represented the innocence of a woman after the ugliness his relationship with Moira Summers had become.

 
He
could
be telling her that. But he could just as easily be telling her something else completely. Something much more important...

 
Something worth so much more than a few moments of humiliation on her part. Something she would be a fool to walk away from...

 
She gave a rueful smile. “We went about things the wrong way, didn’t we, Finn?” she kept her tone deliberately light. “The photographs. The sex. We should have gotten to know each other a little better first.”

 
His jaw tightened, those beautiful Irish-blue eyes glittering darkly. “That wasn’t just sex, Eva. I know what casual sex is, and that wasn’t it.”

 
So did Eva. And no, that connection between the two of them had been nothing like the relationship she’d had with those other two men. It had been more than just physical. So much more.

 
She had
felt
it. The emotional tendrils wrapping themselves about her heart. And once or twice, just briefly, she had known Finn felt it too.

 
And here in front of her was the proof of that.
 

 
The beautiful photographs that Finn called ‘Love’.

 
Surely Finn was trying to tell her something. The private invitation for tonight. The photographs. The fact that he had assured her they would never be seen by anyone else but him.

 
Eva straightened her shoulders determinedly as she now looked him straight in the eyes. “How would you feel about the two of us having sex that wasn’t sex again right now?”

 
“Don’t mess with me, Eva...” He groaned as he closed his eyes briefly, those blue orbs over-bright when he looked at her again. “These past seven weeks of not touching you, three of them not even seeing you, have been agony.”

 
Eva’s heart rose, soared, as she walked slowly towards him. “It didn’t have to be that way, Finn,” she assured huskily. “We could have been together, instead of both being miserable.”