do you eat breakfast?’
Larenz paused, glancing at her over his shoulder. ‘I usually like to eat early, although, since it is the weekend…would nine o’clock be all right?’ His lips twitched. ‘I’d like to give you a bit of a lie-in.’
Ellery glared at him. The man could make anything sound suggestive and even sensual, and she certainly didn’t need his consideration. ‘Thank you, but that’s really not necessary. I’m an early riser.’
‘Then perhaps we’ll watch the dawn together,’ Larenz murmured and, with a last wicked smile that let her know he knew just how much he was teasing—and even affecting—her, he left, the door swinging shut behind him with a breathy sigh.
Ellery counted to ten, and then on to twenty, and then she swore aloud. She waited until she heard Larenz’s footsteps on the stairs—the third one always creaked—and then she reached for the telephone. It was late, but Lil was almost always ready for a chat.
She picked up on the second ring. ‘Ellery? Tell me you’ve finally come to your senses.’
Ellery gave a little laugh as she brought the telephone into the larder, where there was less chance of being overheard in case Larenz or Amelie ventured downstairs again.
‘Just about, after tonight,’ she said and Lil laughed, the pulsing beat of club music audible from her end.
‘Thank heavens. I don’t know why you shut yourself away up there—’
Ellery closed her eyes, a sudden shaft of pain, unexpected and sharp, slicing through her. ‘You know why, Lil.’
Lil sighed. They’d had this conversation too many times already. No matter how many times Ellery tried to explain it, her friend couldn’t understand why she’d thrown away a busy, full life in London for taking care of a mouldering manor. Ellery didn’t blame Lil for not understanding; she barely understood it herself. Returning to Maddock Manor when her mother had been preparing to sell it had been a gut decision. Emotional and irrational. She accepted that, yet it didn’t change how she felt, or how much she needed to stay. For now, at least.
‘So what happened tonight?’ Lil asked.
‘Oh, I have these awful guests,’ Ellery said lightly. Suddenly she didn’t feel like regaling Lil with stories of Amelie and Larenz. ‘Completely OTT and high maintenance.’
‘Throw the tossers out, then,’ Lil said robustly. ‘Take a train—’
‘Lil, I can’t. I have to stay here until—’ Ellery stopped, not wanting to finish the thought.
‘Until the money runs out?’ Lil filled in for her. ‘When will that be? Another two weeks?’
Ellery managed a wobbly laugh. ‘More like three.’ She sighed, sliding to the floor, her forehead resting on her knees. ‘I know I’m mad.’
‘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.
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