Desire by Design - By Paula Altenburg Page 0,66

sigh of relief once she’d swung her legs over the windowsill and disappeared, then developed a sudden, uncomfortable itch between his shoulder blades. Someone was watching him. He heard a low growl and turned his head. Green eyes glowed in the shadows. Riel.

Last night, when Matt hadn’t wanted his affection, Riel had slobbered him with doggie loving. Now he was growling. Talk about fickle.

“Nice boy.” Matt put out his hand to pat him, then remembered that wasn’t a good idea. He held his fingers low so Riel could smell them instead. “See? It’s just me.”

The dog ignored Matt’s fingers with a regal sniff of disdain. He padded closer, and Matt could hear the crackle of arthritic joints. And faster than Matt would have thought possible considering the dog’s age and infirmities, Riel snatched at the blanket.

A game of tug-of-war began.

“Let go, boy,” Matt said softly, wishing Eve would hurry up with his clothes so he could let the dog have the stupid blanket. Riel growled louder in response.

Maybe if he let Riel have this blanket, Matt could wrap the other around himself instead. He let go just as an upstairs light flickered on.

Please let that be Eve.

Footsteps crunched in the gravel behind him, and the next thing he knew, a flashlight beam had caught him in its glare. Riel shook the blanket between his teeth, and Matt clutched the other in his arms.

“If you wanted to play with the dog, couldn’t you at least have waited until morning?” Giles asked.

Matt had no response. He was too busy trying to cover as much of himself as possible. Riel gave one last, satisfied growl then backed away, grinning at Matt as if well pleased. Oh, yeah. Man’s best friend.

Eve stuck her head out of the bedroom window, having taken the time to pull on her nightdress. Thank you, God. Now if only she’d keep quiet about what they’d been up to.

“I thought we’d agreed you wouldn’t run naked around the neighborhood anymore,” she called down.

On second thought, he’d much rather she’d told her father what they’d been up to.

In detail.

Giles slapped the flashlight into Matt’s hand. “You might need this if that’s what you have in mind,” he said. “The nearest neighbor is two kilometers away.” He walked off, calling for the dog to follow him.

Matt shone the light up at Eve, loving the mischief romping in her eyes despite the acute embarrassment she’d caused. “Thanks. You were a big help.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said.

…

“But what I still don’t understand is what happened to his clothes?”

“They got caught in the tide,” Eve said to her mother.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Therese watched as Eve packed her suitcase. “Couldn’t he figure out for himself that it’s too cold and rocky to swim, especially at night? Even if he couldn’t, why wouldn’t he leave his clothes higher up on the beach? And why didn’t he think to check the car for the keys before walking home in the dark?”

Eve wondered what Matt was going to have to say about the keys. He’d been tight-lipped all morning, ever since her father had driven him down to look for them on the off chance they might have gotten caught between the rocks. As it turned out, Eve had left them in the ignition, not her pocket. She’d also left the car doors unlocked.

Eve rolled her eyes and turned to her mother in exasperation. “You might as well know the truth. We were having sex on the beach. The tide came in and washed our clothes away. I thought the car keys were in my pocket, so we walked home. I climbed up the trellis and in the bedroom window. You know the rest.”

“Fine.” Her mother smoothed a hand over the crocheted bedspread. “Don’t tell me what you were doing, then. You’re an adult. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

This was what happened whenever Eve tried to talk to her mother. They ended up angry with each other because her mother didn’t want to see the truth, and the truth was, Eve wasn’t perfect. Far from it. She did stupid things sometimes. She couldn’t be the daughter her mother wanted her to be.

But she would like to end this visit on a different note. Just once it would be nice to part from her mother on good terms. The dolls on the shelves scowled accusingly down at her through their shiny, lifeless eyes. Say something, they urged her.

But what?

“Would you mind if I took my