Desire by Design - By Paula Altenburg Page 0,8

uncle. “Just because I’m not in my office doesn’t mean I can let things pile up.” A thought landed and took root. “You aren’t trying to hook us up, are you?”

“You and Eve? Don’t even joke about such a thing. I’m not getting any younger, and my heart won’t take it.” His uncle sounded so entertained by the idea that Matt’s suspicions were eased. Whatever his uncle was up to, matchmaking wasn’t it. “But I need you here tonight, and it won’t hurt to make Connor happy.” Uncle Bob lowered his voice, as if about to convey a big secret he didn’t want anyone to overhear.

A reluctant grin tugged at Matt’s lips. Oh yeah. Those caterers were probably dying to find out what his uncle’s current scheme was. And he knew his uncle. There had to be one.

“There are a few councilors I want you to talk to,” Bob admitted. “They aren’t convinced yet about the need for design changes, and I’m hoping you can sway them.”

So that was what his uncle was up to. Matt relaxed. Business, he could understand. And family loyalty. Uncle Bob might not be keeping score but Matt was, and Matt owed him for all the years he’d tried his best to fill in as a father. If Uncle Bob wanted a modern City Hall, then that was what he’d get. Matt could impress a few councilors.

It was the unimpressed project manager he seemed to be having the difficulty with. He wondered what her type was. And why he wasn’t it.

Maybe he’d find out at the fundraiser. He might even get a chance to make amends.

“Okay,” he said, feeling more enthusiastic than he had a few minutes ago. “What time should I be there?”

“Eve will pick you up around eight.”

Matt disconnected and tossed his phone into a padded armchair, then rubbed his stubbly chin. He glanced at his watch. Plenty of time for a shower and shave.

…

Eve hopped around her bedroom on one foot, trying to stuff the other into an uncooperative pair of pantyhose while cursing the man who’d invented them. Then, she cursed men in general.

I forgive you, Eve, Claude, her ex-husband, had said.

Even after three days, her anger over that statement hadn’t burned itself out. It seemed they had vastly different recollections as to why their two-week marriage had ended, and she didn’t feel quite as forgiving about them as Claude. Maybe she should have said so before blowing that rape whistle in his ear.

To call her five years later to tell her he forgave her for some figment of his imagination was only one example of his unfortunate tendency to fixate.

For what felt like the millionth time, she wondered what it was that had attracted her to him in the first place. Flattery, she supposed. He’d been a marine biologist with a PhD who traveled all over the world, and had been working on a research project in the Bay of Fundy, near her small Acadian hometown, the summer they’d met. Handsome and brilliant, he’d treated her like the sun rose and set for her pleasure alone. He was handsome, too, in a bookish, nerdy kind of way. The attention had been overwhelming for a girl who’d seen nothing of the world and never gotten more than a drafting diploma from the local community college.

His teasing about that education should have served as her first warning. It hadn’t taken her two days after the wedding to realize the magnitude of her mistake. Claude’s adoration turned to obsession in the blink of an eye. He’d trashed their apartment because he hadn’t liked her talking to an old boyfriend from high school. He’d called her stupid on several occasions, and she’d almost begun to believe it. After all, she’d made the mistake of marrying him.

But when he said they were going to spend the next few years on an isolated island in the Pacific doing marine research, and had given her only a few days to prepare, Eve dragged herself out of denial and finally balked. He’d actually raised a hand to hit her, violent anger burning in his eyes, and that was the end, as far as she was concerned. An older brother had taught her how to defend herself, and she’d laid Claude out flat, breaking his nose and blackening both of his eyes, then packed her bags and moved home.

When faced with a choice between leaving for the Pacific and pursuing her, Claude had chosen to leave—as she’d expected him