The Last Night in London by Karen White (reading list .TXT) 📕

Eva hoped Mrs. St. John would be quickly distracted by her guests and wouldn’t notice the way Graham looked at her. Not that it mattered. As soon as she was in Graham’s arms, nothing else mattered.

The terrace doors had been opened, allowing dancers to waltz in and out of the ballroom. Graham led them outside, dancing to the strains of “Begin the Beguine,” and they remained, the sounds of the orchestra and the warm night air caressing her bare shoulders as they swayed.

Eva smiled up at him. “I missed you. Am I allowed to ask what you were doing in France?”

“Isn’t it enough to know I missed you?”

“For now. I just hate being without you, knowing you’re far away. The nights are the hardest.”

The moonlight made his eyes gleam. “Even if you dream we’re together in your house by the sea?”

“Even then,” she whispered. She moved her hands to his shoulders to bring him closer. He winced, and she pulled away.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m all right. Just a minor accident. You know the French—never paying attention to where they’re going.” He smiled, but his eyes were hidden in the darkness. “I have a bit of a bruise, but that’s all.”

“Thank goodness,” Eva said, breathing in the scent of him. “I couldn’t bear knowing you were hurt.”

“I know. I promise to be extra careful in future.”

The notes of the orchestra died, but they continued swaying to their own music. They were dancing on a precipice, and Eva was ready to fall.

When he came to her room that night, she was waiting for him in the dark, the full moon outside pouring into the open window, painting her skin with opalescent light. She rushed to him, and he took her in his arms.

“I couldn’t go to sleep without wishing you a proper good night,” he said, his lips placing small kisses on her neck and jaw.

“I wish you could stay.”

“Me, too.” He held her so they could be face-to-face. “But I would never dishonor you, darling. You mean too much to me.”

He kissed her, and the room disintegrated beyond her closed eyelids as she allowed her world to become only the two of them.

After he left, Eva lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling for a long while, watching the shadows move across the room, imagining she and Graham were together, listening to the crash of waves far below their house by the sea.

CHAPTER 21

LONDON

JULY 1939

Eva stood at her open bedroom window, wearing only her silk step-in and trying to catch the breeze, looking past the roofs of the park terraces toward Regent’s Park. Throngs of people continued to flock there due to the spell of hot summer weather, and they exposed as much pale skin as decency allowed.

Her thumb rubbed the ivory dolphin Graham had given her, her nail having memorized each curve, each notch. She carried it with her always, even slept with it on her bedside table to keep Graham near. Drawing on her cigarette, she closed her eyes, feeling utterly exhausted.

Ever since the fashion show at Lushtak’s, Eva and Precious had found themselves thrown into a social whirl that neither had anticipated or prepared for. They were in demand at work, too; the number of private showings for which they’d been requested had added to their paychecks as well as to their confidence.

Then there had been the near-nightly entertainments and dinner parties with Graham—when he was available—Sophia, and David. Because of uncertainties in Europe, the newlyweds had postponed their wedding trip, which meant Sophia was available and happy to orchestrate everyone’s social lives. Sophia never wanted Precious to feel like a fifth wheel, so she always included Alexander Grof, ensuring there would be an even number at every dining table. Of course, Eva wanted Precious to be a part of their group, but Alex’s presence always seemed like the fly in the sauce, unappetizing and out of place.

Although, judging by the way Alex joked and conversed with their entire party, Eva was the only one who noticed his silver eyes that missed nothing; who saw the way he always managed to seat himself next to her, close enough that she could smell the starch in his shirts. He was the cat and she the mouse, waiting for him to pounce.

Alex had been at the wedding and the reception at Hovenden Hall, but thankfully there had been enough guests and commotion that he’d managed to get her alone only once, cornering her in the main hall as she’d returned from helping Sophia change. He’d been waiting for her, with the pretense of giving her a glass of champagne. She’d wanted to refuse, to walk past, but she didn’t want to call attention to herself and him. To have him say something she didn’t wish anyone else to hear.

“You’re looking splendid as ever, Eva. Sophia is a beautiful bride, don’t you agree? Of course, she couldn’t hold a candle to you.”

“What do you want, Alex? What could I possibly have that you might find useful?”

He smiled, took a sip from his champagne glass. “Why was Graham in France?”

His question caught her off guard. “What?”

“He just returned from France. I was wondering why he was there.”

“Why would you care?”

“Curious, I suppose. Just curious.”

She drained her glass, then handed it to him. “Excuse me, won’t you?” She walked away, feeling those silver eyes on her back like pinpricks of fire.

For the remainder of the reception, Eva had felt Alex’s stare, seen the mocking grin on his face, the knowing look in his eyes that told her he was aware of her charade and capable of blowing it up into as many pieces as wedding confetti. She hadn’t been able to eat anything; even a bite of wedding cake had tasted like sawdust in her mouth. She’d been more than relieved when he’d left with the other guests who wouldn’t be staying overnight, grateful for the