Shaking her head, she gave a small reluctant smile. ‘Gentleman? More like gentleman of the road!’
He winced as a drop of rain hit his shoulder. ‘Come on, pireni! You know how much I hate it when my hair goes curly.’
Breathing unsteadily, her heart banging against her ribs, Prudence frowned.
‘I promise I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,’ he said lightly.
He watched the colour spread over her cheeks as she hesitated, and then she nodded. And then the clouds split apart and they ran as rain thundered down.
‘This way!’ he shouted over his shoulder as water splashed at them from every direction, and then, as one, they burst through a heavy close-boarded door into an enormous empty barn. ‘We’ll have to wait here until it stops!’ He glanced down at her feet. ‘Are you okay? You didn’t cut yourself or anything?’
He had to yell to make himself heard and she shook her head dumbly. Was she okay? She was in a barn, alone, standing with a soaking wet, panting Laszlo. How was that ever going to be okay?
Her eyes fixed on his rain-spattered shirt, the definition of hard muscle clearly visible against the damp fabric. Instantly she felt a familiar tingling ache low within her pelvis: she knew exactly what lay beneath that shirt. She could feel a yearning deep inside for the ceaseless touch of his hands, his lips—
And then the air slammed out of her lungs as he suddenly shook his head like a dog.
Abruptly she heard the rain stop.
He looked up at her and Prudence felt her pulse jump.
‘I don’t want to have to drag your grandfather into this, Laszlo. I just want you to give me my job back,’ she blurted out.
Laszlo studied her calmly. ‘I know what you want,’ he said slowly, and his shimmering golden gaze slipped over her skin in a way that made her stir restlessly inside.
Flustered, almost squirming with tension, she lifted her chin. ‘Do you?’ she said challengingly.
His eyes gleamed and the trace of a smile curved his lips for the briefest of moments—and then his smile faded. Staring at her broodingly, he let his gaze drift over her soft pink mouth and felt his body respond instantaneously. It had always been like this with Prudence—this fierce, relentless tug of physical need like a terrible, aching hunger that must be satisfied.
He frowned. He felt as if he was teetering on the brink of something.
‘Okay,’ he said softly. ‘You can stay. The job is yours.’
Heart thumping, Prudence bit her lip. Had he really changed his mind? Or was this some sort of cruel game? But one look at his face told her that incredibly, unbelievably, he was telling the truth. She turned away to hide her confusion as instead of relief a spasm of doubt ran through her body.
‘And you’re sure about this?’ she said slowly, looking up at him and frowning. ‘Only it all seems a bit sudden. You changing your mind like this.’
Laszlo forced himself to meet her eyes. He was just going to have to hope that she accepted his volte-face as evidence of his impulsive nature. But the truth was that he was struggling to make sense of his decision too. ‘You know me, Prudence. I can’t resist a fork in the road. It’s in my blood.’
Prudence stared at him suspiciously. She could hardly refute his claim; his mercurial moods and erratic behaviour had overshadowed their entire relationship. However, if this was going to be a business relationship, they needed to deal in fact. It didn’t mean that he could try to fob her off with some flowery, meaningless nonsense.
‘You’re going to have to do better than that, Laszlo.’ She shook her head. ‘Why have you changed your mind?’
There was a loaded silence and then he shrugged. ‘Seymour’s are the best, and I want the best for my grandfather.’ He surveyed her calmly. ‘So, do we have a deal, then?’
She nodded slowly.
His smile tightened. ‘But don’t think that just because I’ve changed my mind anything has changed between us. I may be willing to forget the past for my grandfather’s sake, but I haven’t forgiven you.’
Nor was he entirely sure that he’d done the right thing, letting Prudence stay. But it would be for only a matter of weeks, and he would be calling the shots. Breathing out slowly, he felt a twinge of satisfaction—for now that he’d rationalised his behaviour, he saw that it would be immensely gratifying to have his beautiful English wife at his beck and call.
Staring defiantly at his face, Prudence clenched her fists, resentment curdling in her throat. She should be feeling relieved—ecstatic, even—for she’d fought to keep her job. But now the full consequences of having achieved that goal were starting to dawn on her and she felt more cornered than anything. He was in control here and she knew that. Worse—he did. And even worse than that was the knowledge that she still responded to the maleness of him with an eagerness that shocked her.
Her pulse leapt. Could she really do this? Work and live with Laszlo? Remembering the heat of his lips on hers, she felt her body still and her breath snag in her throat. How could she still want him? After everything he’d done and said? It was incomprehensible. But while her heart might have hardened against him, her body still melted at his touch. Not liking that fact didn’t make it any less true.
She turned to face him and found him watching her impassively. Looking away again, she swallowed. If ever she was weak and stupid enough even to imagine kissing him again, she’d need to remember that look—right there—to remind herself that Laszlo had coldly and without any compunction discarded her. No kiss and no caress, however sublime, could change that.
‘I understand,’ she said crisply.
It was on the tip of her tongue to say that receiving his forgiveness was not exactly top of her agenda, but she had no desire for yet another confrontation—and then she sucked in a breath as she realised that her inadequate instinct for self-preservation was the least of her worries.
‘What about your grandfather?’ she said abruptly. ‘What are you going to tell him? About us?’
For a moment he said nothing, and she held her breath, and then he turned to look at her, his eyes so golden and fierce it was like looking into the sun.
‘What would you have me tell him? That I’ve deceived him for the last seven years?’
His voice seared her skin and she shook her head. He looked away, his mouth thinning to a grim line. She swallowed and took a stinging breath, hating herself but knowing that there was no avoiding it.
‘And my contract?’
Laszlo studied her for a moment. ‘Will be signed this morning. But until then shall we shake on it?’
Prudence stared at him in silence, her skin prickling. Taking a deep breath, she nodded and offered him her hand. His fingers brushed against hers, and then she gave a sharp cry of surprise as his hand slid over her wrist and he jerked her towards him, hard and fast, pulling her body close to his lean, muscular torso.
‘Let me go,’ she said, trying desperately to yank herself free.
She struggled against him but he simply drew her closer, clamping her body against his until he felt her resistance subside.
‘No. Not until you and I have got a couple of things straight.’
Prudence gritted her teeth. ‘Isn’t that something to do when we sign the contract? You know—with a lawyer present.’
Her stomach flipped as she felt him weave his fingers through her hair, his hand holding her captive.
‘You’ll get your contract, Prudence. But we need to lay down a few ground rules just between the two of us.’
He tilted her face up towards him and her skin grew warm beneath his glimmering hypnotic gaze.
‘Firstly, you’re here to work. And whatever you might like to think, I’m your boss and I’ll be working closely with you on this project. This is something my grandfather has asked me to oversee. So if you don’t think you can stomach taking orders from me then I suggest you climb back over that wall right now.’
Clenching her hands into fists, she counted to fifty un
der her breath. Finally, after a long pause, she said stiffly, ‘I understand.’
Their eyes met and he nodded.
‘Good. Secondly, you will restrict your remarks to matters relating to the cataloguing. You will most certainly not discuss anything to do with our previous relationship or the existence of our marriage with anyone. And I don’t just mean my grandfather.’
Prudence stared at him, her mouth trembling. ‘Oh, don’t worry—I don’t intend to tell anyone about our marriage; it’s not something I actually go around boasting about.’
His hand twisted in her hair and she squirmed in his grip as he jerked her closer. ‘Finally,’ he said softly. ‘Something we can agree on.’
Her eyes slammed into his like thunderclouds colliding with the sun and then she shook her head wearily. She was beginning to wish that she’d just stayed in the taxi.
‘You know what? I actually don’t want to have anything to do with you when I’m not working. That’s my ground rule. I came back for my job and that’s what I’m going to do: my job. Not gossip about a marriage I didn’t even know was real and that quite frankly was so long ago and so short I can’t really remember it anyway!’
His eyes met hers and she held her breath, her blood humming in her veins.
‘Oh, but I can,’ he murmured.
His hand slid down her neck, cupping her chin, the thumb strumming her cheek, stroking slowly, steadily, until she arched helplessly against him, feeling his hard strength, his raw desire, and wanting more of both.
‘I can remember every single moment.’
Prudence swallowed. She opened her mouth to speak, tried to lift her hands and push him away, but her brain and body refused to co-operate. Her head was spinning and she could feel her insides tightening, desire mingling with frustration and anger. And then he shifted against her so that the hard muscle of his thigh pushed against her pelvis.
She moaned softly, tipping her head back as his lips caressed her neck, moving slowly, deliberately over her throat and back to her mouth, and then her lips parted and he lowered his mouth to hers. Tingling currents of sensation snaked across her skin and, reaching up, she curled her fingers through his hair and drew him closer, gripping him tightly, for it felt almost as though she might disappear into the kiss itself.
And then, slowly at first, and then with a jolt, her brain seemed to awaken from a deep sleep and she broke free of his arms.
The air on her skin felt sudden and sharp, like a knife, and she rubbed her hand against her mouth as though to remove all traces of his dark, compelling kiss.
‘We shouldn’t have done that.’
Her voice was raw, her breathing coming in panicky little gasps. It had been wrong. And stupid and dangerous. A shudder ran through her. But how could it be wrong when it had felt so good and so right?
Laszlo watched her shake her head, a fierce, urgent heat flaring in his belly. He wanted her so much he could hardly stand. And she had wanted him—she still did. He could see that in the dark turbulence in her eyes and in the convulsive trembling of her skin.
‘What are you talking about?’ His voice was taut, his breathing fraying apart as he spoke.
‘I don’t want that—I don’t want you—’ she began.
Laszlo cut her off incredulously. ‘That was you not wanting me?’
Biting her lip, she shook her head, too horrified by the violence of her response to him even to try to dissemble her desire for him. ‘No. I do want you.’ Shivering, she took a step backwards, staring at him with wide-eyed agitation. ‘But we can’t. It would be wrong—’ She looked frantically past him, trying to locate the door in the gloom of the barn.
Laszlo frowned. ‘Wrong? How could it be wrong? We’re married—’
It was her turn to look incredulous. ‘It’s not about whether we’re married, Laszlo!’ She shook her head again. ‘It’s not appropriate, our doing that, when—’ She was struggling for words. ‘I mean, you hate me.’
‘I don’t hate you,’ he said slowly, and he was surprised to find that it was true. He didn’t.
There was a shocked silence and she met his gaze.
‘But you don’t like me, and I don’t like you, and we certainly don’t love one another.’ Her voice sounded wooden but her breathing was calmer now and she lifted her chin. ‘This is just sex.’
‘This is not just sex,’ he said, speaking with slow, clear emphasis. ‘You clearly haven’t had much in the way of sexual experience if you think that was just sex.’
Her face coloured. ‘You’re right. I haven’t. But when I make love to someone it will be because I love them and only because I love them. Not because of anything else.’
Knowing just how good that ‘anything else’ could feel, she clenched her fists against the treacherous warmth seeping over her skin.
‘So, no, Laszlo. I’m not going to have sex with you in a barn even though we may be married.’
Crossing her arms in front of her body, she stared at him defiantly.
Laszlo studied her in silence. Had he really thought she would sleep with him? And would he have respected her if she had? He smiled grimly. Would he have respected himself? After all, he’d kissed her twice in twenty-four hours, each time telling himself it was the last time—each time, telling himself it was a mistake, that whatever desire he felt was just some reflex kicking in...a habit from the past. But why, if that were true, did he want to keep on repeating those mistakes? And go on repeating them.
He felt his body stir again and frowned. His mistake had been to believe he was over her—for he saw now that, like a virus in his blood, his longing for her had simply lain dormant until she’d walked back into his life yesterday and turned him inside out.
His jaw tightened. He needed some way to cure himself of this sexual power she had over him. Only he was so wound up he was finding it hard to think. All he knew was that his body was pulsing with frustration.
‘Okay,’ he said finally. He watched her breathe out. ‘Look. We’ve both had a lot to take in. And we’re still coming to terms with—’ he waved his hand towards the roof of the barn ‘—everything. So I think we should cut ourselves a bit of slack. How about we go up to the castle and have some breakfast?’
Prudence nodded wordlessly. Her brain was in overdrive. Why had she said she ‘might’ be married to Laszlo? And why did the thought of being his wife make her stomach turn over and over in helpless response to him? Her mouth tightened. It was foolish and distracting. Even if she accepted his version of events, it was still not something of which she needed to be reminded. Particularly as she seemed determined to give in to the intense sexual chemistry between them at every opportunity.
Pushing back her shoulders, she reached behind her neck and smoothed her hair into a ponytail. Her body clearly had very poor judgement when it came to men and she would need to be on her guard at all times—otherwise this arrangement simply wouldn’t work. And that was what she was here to do: work. Not concoct some parallel life in which she and Laszlo were happily married.
She realised that he had spoken again. ‘Sorry—what did you say?’
He stared at her speculatively. ‘I said that I’ll introduce you to my grandfather after breakfast. And then we can sort out where you’re going to sleep. It shouldn’t be a problem. We have twenty bedrooms at the castle. Eighteen spare, that is.’
His groin tightened painfully as an image of her lying naked beside him in his bed slid into his head and he took a deep breath. Maybe their sleeping under the same roof was not such a good idea after all. Not unless he was prepared to sleep standing upright under a cold shower.
Prudence was clearly having the same thought.
‘Why don’t I just stay in a hotel?’ she said quickly.
‘That won’t be necessary.’
A muscle flickered in his cheek. There was another option—only up until that moment the mere thought of suggesting it would have appalled him. But nothing was the same any more. Looking up at Prud
ence, he cleared his throat. ‘There’s an empty cottage on the estate. It’s small. But it’s clean and private and a lot cosier than the castle.’
His eyes blazed.
‘Just don’t get too cosy! As soon as the cataloguing is complete I want you out of my life and I never want to see you again.’
CHAPTER FIVE
‘AND THIS IS one of my favourite pieces in the entire collection!’ Janos de Zsadany took a step back and stared intently at the portrait of a girl clutching an open green fan. ‘Annuska and I gave this to Zsofia for her sixteenth birthday.’ He turned towards Prudence and gave the faintest of smiles. ‘I think secretly she’d been hoping for a horse. But thankfully she was enchanted.’
Prudence gazed at the portrait. ‘It’s beautiful!’ she said slowly. ‘Were you specifically looking for a Henri?’
Janos shook his head. ‘No. Not at all. But when Annuska and I saw this painting we both knew it was the one. She reminded us so much of Zsofia. Not just in colouring. It’s her expression.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘My daughter often used to look at me like that. You know—that mixture of love and exasperation.’
Prudence bit her lip. She had suddenly realised that they weren’t talking about some random young woman but Laszlo’s mother. ‘I’m sure it was just her age,’ she said hesitantly.
She felt suddenly sick with guilt. Janos was talking so openly about such a private matter with the woman who was secretly married to his grandson. But what choice did she have? She sighed. It had been easy enough to agree with Laszlo not to discuss their marriage with anyone. It was not even that hard to convince herself that it was all for the best. Only now, faced with Janos’s gentle courtesy, their subterfuge made her feel shabby and sly.
She sucked in a breath and managed a polite smile. ‘Whatever your reasons, it was a good choice, Mr de Zsadany.’
Janos laughed. ‘I think so too.’ He beamed at her. ‘I think we’re going to get along very well, Miss Elliot.’ He frowned. ‘But could I suggest we do away with all these formalities, or we’ll spend most of our time together repeating each other’s names. Please call me Janos!’
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