The Undoing of de Luca

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.

And he could warm her…He would take great pleasure in thawing the ice princess, Larenz thought, folding his hands behind his head. Sleep seemed a long way off. From outside he heard a telltale creak of the floorboards and hoped it wasn’t Amelie making a last-ditch effort. Surely she had more pride than that; their working relationship was too important to throw away on an ill-conceived fling.

His mind roved back to Ellery. He wondered whether she was pining away for some prince while she waited in her lonely manor. Was she hoping for some would-be knight to rescue her? Well, he was no knight or prince, not in the least. He was a bastard through and through and there was surely no way Lady Maddock would consider him as husband material for a second, which suited him fine.

But as a lover…? Larenz smiled and settled more deeply into the bed.

Then he heard the floorboard creak again, past his room, and the sound of a door closing somewhere at the other end of the hall. It must have been Ellery, on her way to bed.

Larenz stretched out, trying to make himself more comfortable despite the rather lumpy mattress and the coldness of the room. Had Ellery walked past his room on purpose? Was she curious? Longing?

He hoped so, because he had just decided that she most definitely needed to be seduced.

Chapter Two

ELLERY woke early, determined to fill the day with chores and errands. If she kept herself busy and productive, she’d have less time to think. Imagine.

It had been imagining that had kept her up last night, restless with a nameless longing that had suddenly risen up inside her, a tide of need. She’d replayed the moments with Larenz, the feel of his fingers on her skin, over and over again, hating herself for doing so. Hating him.

She needed to focus, she told herself as she tied an apron around her waist and reached for a dozen eggs from inside the fridge. Focus on getting work done now and then having a weekend away, as she’d promised Lil. She tried to imagine herself in London at some random club or bar, having fun, but the image remained both blurry and vaguely depressing.

‘It would be fun,’ Ellery insisted in a mutter as she cracked six eggs into a heavy china mixing bowl and began to whip them into a foamy froth. ‘We’d talk and laugh and dance—’ And Lil would try to convince her—again—to come back to London.

When Ellery had told her friend she was returning home in an attempt to make Maddock Manor a success, Lil had looked at her as if she’d gone completely mad.

‘Why on earth would you want to go back there?’

Ellery hadn’t been able to answer that question. She’d only visited her home once or twice a year since her father had died; her mother usually preferred to meet her in London. She had never even had much affection for the house, really; four years at boarding school and another three at university had made her a stranger to the place, and she still remembered the shock slicing through her at its decrepit state when she’d returned after her mother had announced she planned to sell it. When had the paintings been sold? When had the grounds gone to ruin? Had she never noticed, or had she simply not cared? Or, most frighteningly, had their family’s slide into financial ruin happened a long time ago, her father hiding the truth from her, as he had with so many things?

Yet, despite the Manor’s decrepit state, Ellery had been determined to keep it for as long as she could. Somehow the prospect of losing it—losing her childhood memories there—had forced some latent instinct to kick in and so she’d rushed into this unholy mess. Even now she couldn’t regret it, couldn’t shake the fear that if she lost the Manor, she lost her father. It was a stupid fear, absurd, because she’d lost her father long, long ago…if she’d ever really had him.

Grimacing, Ellery reached for a tomato from the windowsill and began to slice it with a bit too much vigour. She didn’t like to dwell on memories; if she thought too much about the past she started wondering if anything was true…or trustworthy.

‘Careful with that. You’re liable to lose a finger.’ Once again, Ellery jumped and whirled around, the chopping knife still brandished in one hand. Larenz stood in the doorway, looking even better than he had last night. Even in her pique, Ellery could not quite keep herself from gazing at him. He was dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a worn grey T-shirt. Simple clothes, Saturday slumming clothes, Ellery supposed, yet Larenz de Luca looked far too good in them, the soft cotton and faded denim lovingly hugging his powerful frame, emphasizing his trim hips and muscular thighs.

‘I’m fine, thank you,’ she said crisply. ‘And, if you don’t mind, I’d rather you knocked before coming into the kitchen.’

‘Sorry,’ Larenz murmured, sounding utterly unrepentant.

Ellery made herself smile and raised her chin a notch. ‘May I help you with something, Mr de Luca? Breakfast should be ready in a few minutes.’ She glanced pointedly at the old clock hanging above the stove. It was a quarter to nine.

‘Why don’t you call me Larenz?’ he suggested with a smile.

Ellery’s smile back was rather brittle. ‘I’m afraid it’s not the Manor’s policy to address guests by their first names.’ That was a complete fabrication and, from Larenz’s little smile, she could tell he knew it. He was amused by it.

‘The Manor?’ he queried softly. ‘Or Lady Maddock’s?’

‘I don’t actually use the title,’ Ellery said stiffly. She hated her title, hated its uselessness, its deceit. As if she was the only one who deserved it. ‘You may simply call me Miss Dunant.’ Listening to her crisp voice, she knew she sounded starchy and even absurd. She wished, for a fierce unguarded moment, that she could be someone else. Sound like someone else, light, amused, mocking even. She wished she could feel that way, as if things didn’t matter. As if they didn’t hurt. Instead, she just bristled and it made Larenz de Luca laugh at her.

‘Miss Dunant,’ Larenz repeated thoughtfully. ‘I’m afraid I usually prefer to be a bit more informal. But if you insist…’ He took a step closer, still giving her that lovely lazy smile, and Ellery’s heart began to beat like a frightened rabbit’s. She sucked in a quick, sharp breath.

‘Will Miss Weyton be joining you for breakfast?’

‘No, she won’t.’ Larenz’s smile widened. ‘As a matter of fact, Miss Weyton is leaving this morning.’

‘What…?’ Ellery couldn’t keep the appalled shock from her voice. She realized she was disappointed, not simply to lose the money, but to lose the company. Larenz de Luca, the most intriguing and infuriating man she’d come across in a long time. She was actually disappointed that he might be leaving.

‘Yes, she has to return to work,’ Larenz continued, sounding anything but regretful. ‘However, I’ll be staying for the rest of the weekend.’

Ellery’s breath came out in a slow hiss. ‘You’ll be staying?’ she repeated, and heard how ridiculously breathy her voice sounded. Inwardly, she cringed. ‘Alone?’

Larenz had been moving slowly towards her so now he was less than a foot away. Ellery could smell the clean citrusy tang of his aftershave, and she found her fascinated gaze resting on the steady pulse in his throat. The skin there looked so smooth and golden.

‘Well, I won’t be alone,’ Larenz murmured. He reached out to tuck an errant tendril of hair behind her ear and Ellery jerked back in shock; her skin seemed to buzz and burn where his fingers had skimmed it. Her senses were too scattered to make a reply and, seeing this, Larenz clarified, ‘I’ll be with you.’

She took a step backwards, away from both danger and temptation. She didn’t want to be tempted, not by a man she couldn’t even like. Not by a man who looked poised to use her and discard her—and any other woman—just as her father had her mother.

Or perhaps Larenz de Luca wouldn’t even get that far. Perhaps he was simply amusing himself with her, enjoying her obvious and inexperienced reactions. Perhaps he never intended to act on any of this. She didn’t know which was more humiliating. ‘I’m afraid I’ll be busy with my duties most of the weekend,’ she told him crisply, ‘but I’m sure you’ll enjoy the relaxing solitude of Maddock Manor…especially such a busy man as yourself.’