Silencing Eve

mentally, that she had just accepted what Doane had said to her about the memorial service. Joe would never have thrown a huge media party like this because he would have known she’d hate it.
    Which meant he had set it up for someone else. Doane?
    Doane had been so certain that everyone had been fooled by his grand plan. He had been smug and completely obnoxious about it.
    “And there’s Jane MacGuire,” Doane said. “She’s very beautiful, and it’s no wonder the cameras focus more on her than anyone else. Poor Jane, she has to be heartbroken that there was nothing she could do to save you.”
    “Heartbroken,” Eve repeated, intently studying Jane’s face.
    Jane had been more close friend than daughter to her since she’d adopted her when she was ten years old, but the love was strong between them. She knew exactly how Jane would react.
    Jane was pale and unsmiling.
    No agony. Only tension. And the same impatience Eve had seen in Joe’s face. They wanted this show over.
    Eve felt the joy and hope surge through her.
    Oh, Doane, you’ve underestimated them again.
    They’ve found out about your little escape plan.
    They know I’m alive.
    *   *   *
    “YOU NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE,” Margaret whispered to Jane when she reached her. “Your nerves are shredded from all this crap. Why don’t you go up in the house with Kendra?”
    That sounded wonderful to Jane. Peace. Quiet. No pretense. She reluctantly shook her head. “Kendra isn’t family. I am. I’m expected to be at this circus. I can do this.”
    “You can do it,” Seth Caleb said roughly as he suddenly appeared behind her. “But why should you? You’ve only been out of the hospital a week, and you’ve been under stress all that time. You’ve done your job. The cameras love you, and the TV crews focused on you during most of the service. Now let someone else have a photo op.” He took her elbow and firmly swept her away from Margaret and started propelling her toward the steps leading to the porch of the cottage. “You need a break.”
    “You don’t know what I need. Let me go, Caleb.” Jane carefully kept her voice low to keep anyone around them from hearing as she tried to pull away from him. “What do you think you’re doing?”
    “I’m being kind and concerned and sympathetic. Can’t you tell?” He glanced across the crowd at Mark Trevor, who was nodding with agreement at something a guest was telling him. “Since Trevor is involved with doing all the right things like you are, I figured someone had to be the bad guy.” He smiled faintly, as he murmured, “And who does it better than I do?”
    “No one.” She glanced up at him. Dark eyes glittered recklessly from that strong, fascinating face. She was immediately aware of the animal magnetism and powerful sensuality that were parts of his basic personality. She always tried to ignore and block them out, but she seldom succeeded. Even now, his grip on her elbow was sending a tingling through her arm. “I’ve been surprised how tame you’ve been during the last week.”
    “Oh, I’m an excellent actor when I need to be. In this case, the need was yours, and I always try to meet your every desire.” His smile was fading. “Though I haven’t had an opportunity lately. Trevor has been covering you with that cloak of golden charm he drapes over you whenever he’s near. It’s hard to compete when I have no golden cloak, and you’re so wary of me.”
    “Golden cloak? That sounds like something from Disney. Bullshit.” She didn’t try to deny the last part of his sentence. They both knew she was wary of Caleb. She not only had an erotic response whenever she was around him, he was not like anyone she had ever known. Hell, he was probably not like anyone the majority of the population had ever known, she thought ruefully. That weird talent he possessed that allowed him to affect the flow of blood in those around him was bizarre and a little frightening. Eve had told her she had seen him kill a murderer with that talent a couple years ago. And Jane, herself, had experienced the hypnotic sexual aspect to that control of the blood.
    Yes, “wariness” was definitely the word for what she felt for Caleb. Among other more confused emotions. It was Caleb who had been there for her, flown her here from London, when she’d first become drawn into the nightmare of Eve’s kidnapping. He’d stayed with her after she’d been shot by Doane’s accomplice, and no one