don’t mind if I play the piano as long as my fingers aren’t sticky or I don’t drop crumbs between the keys. Correct?’
Julius found the picture she was painting of him increasingly annoying. What gave her the right to sum him up in such disparaging terms? She made him sound like some sort of house-proud obsessive. ‘Do you play an instrument?’ he asked.
‘No.’
‘Would you like to learn?’ Music was supposed to tame wild things, wasn’t it? He could engage a tutor for her. What was that saying about the devil and idle hands? Piano lessons would at least keep her out of his way.
‘What?’ she said, the cynical glint back in her gaze. ‘You think you can teach me the piano in a month?’
‘I have other instruments.’
‘I just bet you do.’
He gave her a droll look. ‘Flute. Tenor recorder. Saxophone.’
She looked at him, one side of her plump mouth curved in a mocking arc. ‘Impressive. Gotta love a man who’s good with his mouth and his hands.’
Julius put his hands deep in his trouser pockets in case he was tempted to show her just how good he was. Why was she being so damn brazen? Winding him up for what reason? To prove he was as predictable as all the other men she’d dealt with? What did she hope to gain? Would he be just another male trophy for her to gloat over? Another man she had slayed with her sensual allure? He wasn’t going to fall for it. He had no time for vacuous game playing. She might think him predictable and a walking, talking cliché but he was not when it came to this. She could flirt and tease and taunt him as much as she wanted but he wasn’t going to fall into her honey trap. He might be his father’s son by blood, name and looks but he wasn’t like him by nature.
‘I’ll leave Sophia to show you around the rest of the house,’ he said, his tone formal, clipped. Dismissive.
Her mischievous gaze danced. ‘Aren’t you going to show me where I’ll be sleeping?’
‘I’m not sure where Sophia has put you.’
But I hope to God it’s nowhere near me, Julius thought as he turned and strode briskly away.
HOLLY WATCHED AS Julius Ravensdale made his way down the lengthy and wide corridor with long, purposeful strides. She felt strangely breathless after their encounter. Her pulse was thrumming too hard and too fast. It felt as if something small and scared was scrabbling inside the valves of her heart.
Her reaction to him confounded her. Confused her.
Men didn’t usually have that effect on her. Even good-looking ones. And they didn’t come much better looking than Julius Ravensdale. She’d been expecting some long-haired, bushy-bearded, shoulder-hunched computer geek and instead had found a man who looked as if he could fill in for a European male model in an aftershave or designer watch advertisement. His tall, broad-shouldered athletic build gave him an air of authority that was compelling. There was something about his looks that rang a faint bell of recognition in her head. Had she seen a picture of him somewhere? Or was his twin famous? Even his name struck a chord of familiarity but she couldn’t remember where she’d heard it before.
His thick, wavy dark brown hair was tousled in a mad professor sort of way she found intensely attractive. He was clean-shaven but with just enough regrowth to confirm he hadn’t been holding the door for everyone else while the testosterone was being handed out. She had felt the impact of his male hormones as soon as she’d entered his office. It was like a collision against her flesh. Potent. Powerful. Primal. Making her aware of her body in a way she hadn’t been in years. Maybe had never been.
He triggered something in her, something deeply instinctive. Something rebellious. She felt an irresistible desire to dismantle his façade of cool civility. To unpick the lock on the brooding passion she could sense was under lockdown. She wanted to tease out the primitive man behind the aristocratic manners. He was so rigidly controlled with an aloof and haughty air. There was an invisible wall around him warning her not to come close. But what if she did? What if she dared to come so close he wouldn’t be able to keep that iron control in place? She gave a secret smile. Tempting thought.
Holly couldn’t get over his incredible eyes. Dark as navy fringed with thick lashes and strong eyebrows. Intelligent eyes. Observant. Intuitive. He had a straight nose and a jaw that hinted at a streak of stubbornness. He looked like he lived in his head a lot. Thoughts and logic were his currency. Action would come later after due consideration.
If nothing else it would make a change from the men she’d been forced to share quarters with—her low-life stepfather being a perfect case in point.
Maybe this month wouldn’t be such a hardship after all. It was exhilarating, winding Julius up. It amused her to see him act all schoolmasterish and stern in the face of her brazen behaviour. She was picky when it came to whom she shared her body with but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have a bit of fun rattling his chain. He was starchy and formal in that ‘stiff upper lip’ way the well-born English male was known for. Maybe it would fill in the time to try and loosen him up a bit. Show him a top-notch university degree didn’t make him any different from any other man she’d met. Men driven by hormones. Greedy to have their lust slaked with whomever was available. She’d prove to him he had no right to look down his nose at her.
Holly gave a little smile. Yep, this period of house arrest could prove to be the best fun she’d had in years.
The housekeeper appeared at the end of the corridor and came towards Holly with her wrist supported in a brace. It brought back memories of the time her stepfather had snapped her wrist when she’d been eleven and then told her he would kill her or her mother if she told anyone how she’d got injured. She’d had to pretend she’d fallen off her bike. A bike she hadn’t even possessed. The plates and screws in her wrist weren’t the only scars her stepfather had left her with.
Her issues with authority, her rebellious streak, her distrust of men and her cold sweat nightmares were the hoofmarks of a childhood and adolescence spent at the mercy of a madman. She wouldn’t have had to be here doing this ridiculous programme if it hadn’t been for the way her stepfather and his bullying lawyer had made it seem as if she was the criminal.
‘Come this way, Holly,’ Sophia said as she led the way to the next floor. ‘So, what do you think of the place so far?’
‘It’s okay, I guess.’ Holly didn’t see the point in getting too friendly with the natives. Sophia seemed nice enough but it would be a waste of energy striking up a friendship when in a matter of weeks—if not before—she’d be gone.
‘I had to twist Señor Ravensdale’s arm to agree to having you here,’ Sophia said as they came to the first-floor landing. ‘It’s not that he doesn’t want to do his bit for charity. He’s incredibly generous and supports lots of causes. He just likes to be left alone to get on with his work.’
‘Has he got any lady friends?’ Holly asked.
Sophia’s expression closed down. ‘Señor Ravensdale’s privacy is of paramount importance to him.’
‘Come on, there must be someone in his life,’ Holly said.
Sophia’s
