The Undoing of de Luca
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‘At least you admit it,’ Lil replied cheerfully. ‘Look, I know you can’t come now, but you are due for a visit. That manor is bringing you down, Ellery, and you need someone to bring you up.’ Her voice softened. ‘Come back to the city, have fun, have a real relationship for starters—’
‘Don’t,’ Ellery warned with a sigh, even though she knew her friend was right.
‘Why not? It’s not like you’re going to meet a man in the bowels of Suffolk, and you don’t want to die a virgin, do you?’
Ellery winced. Lil was her best friend, but sometimes she was just a bit too blunt. And she’d never really understood how—or why—Ellery had kept herself from the messy complications of sex and love for so long. ‘I’m not looking for some kind of fling,’ she said, even as an image—a tempting image—of Larenz flitted through her mind, his tie loosened and his hair tousled…
‘Well, how about a girls’ weekend, then?’ Lil suggested.
‘Now that sounds lovely—’
‘But?’ Lil interjected knowingly. ‘What’s your excuse this time, Ellery?’
‘No excuses,’ Ellery replied a bit more firmly than she felt. ‘I know I need to get away, Lil. I nearly lost my temper with these idiot guests and it’s just because I haven’t been anywhere or done anything but try to keep things together here—’
‘Then next weekend,’ Lil cut her off kindly, for Ellery knew she sounded too emotional. Felt too emotional. She didn’t like showing so much of herself, being so vulnerable, not even with Lil, and her friend knew it. ‘You don’t have any guests booked then?’
‘Not hardly.’ She injected a cheerful note into her voice. ‘This lot’s only my second. Thanks for chatting, Lil, but I can tell you’re out on the town—’
A peal of raucous laughter sounded from Lil’s end. ‘It doesn’t matter—’
‘And I’m exhausted,’ Ellery finished. ‘I’ll talk to you later.’ After she’d disconnected the call, Ellery sat there, the receiver pressed to her chest, the manor house quiet and dark all around her. She could hear the wind blowing outside, a lost, lonely sound.
The phone call had made her feel a bit better, and she was definitely going to go to London next weekend, but in the meantime this weekend—with its two guests—still yawned endlessly in front of her. Sighing, Ellery rose and replaced the telephone before heading to bed.
Upstairs, Larenz took his two glasses, the ice cubes clinking against each other, and walked past Amelie’s door. She’d taken the best bed for herself—of course—and Larenz knew the only way to enjoy such comfort was to share it. When they’d gone upstairs together, Amelie still chattering on about how perfect this wreck of a house would be for the launch of Marina, Larenz had known with a certain weariness that the moment was coming.
And so it had, with Amelie pausing in the doorway of the best bedroom, giving him a kittenish little smile that might have amused him once, but now just annoyed him.
‘It’s awfully cold in here, you know,’ she said in a husky murmur.
‘You could ask Lady Maddock for a hot-water bottle,’ he replied dryly, stepping back from Amelie’s open doorway just so she got the message.
She did, smiling easily. That was one good thing about Amelie; she caught on quickly. ‘I’m sure she’s using it for herself,’ she replied. ‘It’s probably the only thing that ever shares her bed,’ she added with that touch of malice Larenz had never really liked.
‘Well, at least you have lots of covers,’ he replied lightly. From her open doorway, he caught a glimpse of an ornate four-poster piled high with throw pillows and a satin duvet. It looked a good deal more comfortable than the spartan room he’d had to settle for.
Still, he wasn’t even tempted. Especially not when his mind—and other parts of his body—still recalled the way Ellery Dunant’s violet eyes had flashed at him, the way she’d jerked in response to his lightest touch. She wanted him. She didn’t want to want him, but she did.
He turned back to Amelie, the friendliness in his voice now replaced with flat finality. ‘Goodnight, Amelie.’ He turned away and walked to his own bedroom without looking back.
Back in his own room now, Larenz grimaced at the faded wallpaper and worn coverlet. Clearly, Lady Maddock had not got around to redecorating the other bedrooms.
He put aside his glass with the precious ice—it had been no more than a pretext to see Ellery Dunant again—and pulled the covers down from the bed. A gust of wind rattled the windowpanes and Larenz felt the icy draught. He grimaced again. What on earth was Ellery Dunant doing in a place like this? Clearly her family had fallen on hard times, but Larenz couldn’t fathom why she didn’t sell up and move somewhere more congenial. She was young, pretty and obviously talented to some degree. Why was she wasting away in the far reaches of Suffolk taking care of a house that looked about to collapse around her ears?
Shrugging the thought aside, Larenz began to undress. He normally slept in just his boxers but it was so damned cold in this place he decided to leave his shirt and socks on, making him look, he suspected, rather ridiculous.
He doubted Ellery Dunant’s room was properly heated. He pictured her in a white cotton nightdress, the kind that buttoned right up to her neck, a pair of fuzzy slippers on her feet, clutching a hot-water bottle. The image made his lips twitch in amusement until he found his mind leaping ahead to the moment when he unbuttoned that starchy nightgown and discovered the delectable woman underneath.
She’d been affected by him; there could be no denying that. Larenz recalled the way her skin had felt, as soft as silk and faintly cool. Her fingernails, he’d noticed, had been bitten to the quick. She was undoubtedly worried about finances; why else would she be renting out this decrepit place?
He knew just how to take her mind off such matters.
He stretched out in bed, wincing at the icy sheets. Again, he found himself imagining Ellery there with him, warming the sheets, warming him.