on stage and screen. He still was.
Now she glanced at Matt who was focused on his driving and Eve tried hard not to compare him to her father. She knew it wasn't fair to liken Matt's behaviour to her father's but she just couldn't seem to help it. She couldn't forget that Matt had walked away and refused her attempts to reach him either.
He'd apologised and now he wanted more, much more.
Maybe too much?
But Matt's behaviour had brought back too many bitter memories and Eve was finding it hard to get past them. The scars of rejection and of old hurts burned too brightly in her psyche. She might be able to forgive Matt, but would she ever be able to forget? Somehow she doubted it, because she'd never been able to forgive her father for the way he'd abandoned her or been able to forget sitting on the front porch-step waiting for him to come and collect her.
She'd been seven, wearing her best frock with her hair brushed until it shone with her little suitcase at her side. The excitement of the little g irl cut deep into a heart that had been utterly broken. After two hours sitting on the step she'd been worrying herself to death that something bad had happened to him. Then her mother had placed her arm around her thin shoulders and whispered that her father wasn't coming. Eve would never forget the creeping disappointment and bitter tears that she wasn't going on a plane with her daddy to visit his house in Hollywood. He was too busy with a big movie. His big chance, her mother had told her not bothering to hide her own bitterness and hurt from her little daughter. And he'd promised to make it up to her. He never had. Her mother had refused to permit him to disappoint his only child again and the rift between father and daughter had been permanent.
And l ike her father Matt had big plans for his future too.
The difference was that he wanted her and their child with him.
But for how long?
Anxiety crawled into her gut at the thought of marriage and everything it entailed.
Marrying a man like Matt would mean that there would be a good chance she'd come face to face with her father. And Eve wasn't sure she'd ever be ready to deal with that event.
Now she was pulled back to the present as Matt drove along the road leading to The Dower House. She took a s urprised breath. Set in landscaped gardens covered in snow and glittering with frost the house was gorgeous. Constructed of pristine sandstone, the building was a stunning miniature of Ludlow Hall. The house and gardens were illuminated by up lights and in the middle of the turning circle stood a fabulous pine tree at least twenty feet high lit by thousands of tiny white lights.
Matt brought the Range Rover to a halt, got out and jogged around to open her door.
He took her hand as she stepped out. The air was crisp with winter, nipping her cheeks and rippling her hair. She didn't feel a thing. All she felt was Matt's hand in hers and his eyes on hers.
"What a stunning house," she said.
"You like it?"
"Love it."
Still holding her hand , he picked up a big bag from the trunk and led her to fabulous arched double doors of ancient oak.
Before he had the chance to tug the bell pull, the door was opened by Nico Ferranti.
He was dressed in black jeans and a cashm ere sweater in pale grey.
Eve's head tipped back to meet dark eyes that went sharp as they studied her face. And she got the distinct impression that this was not a man to cross. Then he smiled and the handsome face went from hard to welcoming. Nico grabbed her hand and pulled her into the house. She stepped onto large stone tiles that stretched through the vast entrance hall. To the right a wide wooden staircase of polished oak wound up to the next floor and tucked in the curve of the staircase was another beautiful Christmas tree, this time decorated for children. Candy canes hung from the lower branches.
Nico gave her a brotherly kiss on each cheek before giving Matt a backslapping man hug.
"Welcome," he
Now she glanced at Matt who was focused on his driving and Eve tried hard not to compare him to her father. She knew it wasn't fair to liken Matt's behaviour to her father's but she just couldn't seem to help it. She couldn't forget that Matt had walked away and refused her attempts to reach him either.
He'd apologised and now he wanted more, much more.
Maybe too much?
But Matt's behaviour had brought back too many bitter memories and Eve was finding it hard to get past them. The scars of rejection and of old hurts burned too brightly in her psyche. She might be able to forgive Matt, but would she ever be able to forget? Somehow she doubted it, because she'd never been able to forgive her father for the way he'd abandoned her or been able to forget sitting on the front porch-step waiting for him to come and collect her.
She'd been seven, wearing her best frock with her hair brushed until it shone with her little suitcase at her side. The excitement of the little g irl cut deep into a heart that had been utterly broken. After two hours sitting on the step she'd been worrying herself to death that something bad had happened to him. Then her mother had placed her arm around her thin shoulders and whispered that her father wasn't coming. Eve would never forget the creeping disappointment and bitter tears that she wasn't going on a plane with her daddy to visit his house in Hollywood. He was too busy with a big movie. His big chance, her mother had told her not bothering to hide her own bitterness and hurt from her little daughter. And he'd promised to make it up to her. He never had. Her mother had refused to permit him to disappoint his only child again and the rift between father and daughter had been permanent.
And l ike her father Matt had big plans for his future too.
The difference was that he wanted her and their child with him.
But for how long?
Anxiety crawled into her gut at the thought of marriage and everything it entailed.
Marrying a man like Matt would mean that there would be a good chance she'd come face to face with her father. And Eve wasn't sure she'd ever be ready to deal with that event.
Now she was pulled back to the present as Matt drove along the road leading to The Dower House. She took a s urprised breath. Set in landscaped gardens covered in snow and glittering with frost the house was gorgeous. Constructed of pristine sandstone, the building was a stunning miniature of Ludlow Hall. The house and gardens were illuminated by up lights and in the middle of the turning circle stood a fabulous pine tree at least twenty feet high lit by thousands of tiny white lights.
Matt brought the Range Rover to a halt, got out and jogged around to open her door.
He took her hand as she stepped out. The air was crisp with winter, nipping her cheeks and rippling her hair. She didn't feel a thing. All she felt was Matt's hand in hers and his eyes on hers.
"What a stunning house," she said.
"You like it?"
"Love it."
Still holding her hand , he picked up a big bag from the trunk and led her to fabulous arched double doors of ancient oak.
Before he had the chance to tug the bell pull, the door was opened by Nico Ferranti.
He was dressed in black jeans and a cashm ere sweater in pale grey.
Eve's head tipped back to meet dark eyes that went sharp as they studied her face. And she got the distinct impression that this was not a man to cross. Then he smiled and the handsome face went from hard to welcoming. Nico grabbed her hand and pulled her into the house. She stepped onto large stone tiles that stretched through the vast entrance hall. To the right a wide wooden staircase of polished oak wound up to the next floor and tucked in the curve of the staircase was another beautiful Christmas tree, this time decorated for children. Candy canes hung from the lower branches.
Nico gave her a brotherly kiss on each cheek before giving Matt a backslapping man hug.
"Welcome," he
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