by Jennie Lucas
He loathed the weakness of his body. His migraines were not as frequent as they once had been but they more than made up for it when they came. Last night’s had been the worst in a long while. The doctors had told him stress was a contributing factor. Bella pushing him for information about his childhood had been the trigger; he should never have allowed her to get under his guard like that. She had a way of slipping under his defences, ambushing him with her concerned looks and softly spoken words.
He could just imagine the shock and disgust on her face if he told her about his past. For all these years she had goaded him, taunted him with words about his background that were a whole lot closer to the truth than she probably realised.
He felt filthy. He had lived in filth so long he still felt dirty underneath his skin even though the outside was now clean.
He felt uncivilised. His childhood had been a black hole of despair. He had wanted to die at times rather than endure it. His anger and rage at the world had been like a cancer growing inside him. He had hit out at everyone. He hadn’t trusted anyone to do the right thing by him. He could not afford to get his hopes up only to have them brutally dashed down again. It had been so much harder to summon the will to live after a let-down.
Bella had grown up with every privilege. She had never wanted anything she couldn’t have had at the click of her finger. She had never had to fight to stay alive.
He was still fighting his demons. They plagued him when he was awake and they tortured him when he was asleep.
Sometimes he wondered if he would ever be free.
* * *
It was late in the afternoon before Bella saw him again. She was coming back from a walk to the lake when she saw him up on a ladder doing something to one of the second-storey windows. She would have walked past without acknowledging him but the ladder shifted as he reached for one of the tools on his work belt, and her stomach suddenly lurched at the thought of him falling to the icy ground below. ‘Do you need me to hold the ladder steady?’ she said.
He gave her a brief glance and turned back to the task at hand. ‘If you like.’
She watched from below as he shaved some wood off the casement with a plane. The muscles of his wrists and forearms bunched as he worked. He looked strong and fit and every inch a man in his prime. She tried not to think about what she had seen that morning but it was impossible to rid her mind of the image of his aroused body. Her insides were still smouldering with lust. She had been trying to ignore it all day but it was like a switch had been turned on inside her and she had no idea how to turn it off.
The ladder started to shudder again as he came down. She leaned her weight into it and only stepped away once he was safely down. ‘What was wrong with the window?’ she asked.
‘Water damage,’ he said, wiping some wood dust off his forehead with his forearm. ‘We had a big snowfall a few weeks back. The wood’s swollen with moisture. It’ll need replacing eventually.’
‘Why don’t you get a professional to do this sort of stuff?’ Bella asked.
‘I enjoy it,’ he said as he gathered his tools.
‘That’s beside the point,’ she said. ‘What if you had a fall? There would be no one around to help you. You could break your neck or something.’
His eyes met hers as he straightened. ‘That would be quite convenient for you, wouldn’t it?’
She frowned at him. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘You’d get the manor back,’ he said. ‘That’s what you’d like, isn’t it?’
‘It’s my home,’ she said, shooting him a resentful look. ‘Generations of Havertons grew up here. I don’t see why a blow-in like you should take it away from its rightful owner.’
‘Not happy with your four-storey mansion in Chelsea and the millions of pounds in assets?’ he asked.
She glowered at him. ‘That’s beside the point. This is where I grew up. This is where I expected my children to grow up. You don’t belong here. I do.’
‘Your father obviously thought differently,’ he said.
‘He should have consulted me about it,’ Bella said. ‘The least he could have done is put it in both our names.’
‘Would you have been happy living with me here?’ he asked.
‘No, I would not,’ she said. ‘Would you?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said with a glinting smile. ‘It could prove to be quite entertaining.’
She gave him a flinty look. ‘I can assure you that if you get sick again I will not be racing to your aid in the middle of the night. You can jolly well fend for yourself.’
‘Suits me.’
She pressed her lips together for a moment. ‘Nor will I allow you to take advantage of me like you did this morning.’
‘How did I take advantage of you?’ he asked. ‘You were in my bed.’
‘Not because I wanted to be.’
His smile was arrogantly, irritatingly confident. ‘No one forced you into it. You came of your own free will. And I have a feeling you’ll be back before too long.’
Bella glared at him. ‘Do you really think I’m that much of a pushover? I don’t even like you. I hate you. I’ve always hated you.’
‘I know, but that’s why it will be such great sex,’ he said. ‘I can hardly wait to feel you come. I bet you’ll go off like a bomb.’
Her cheeks fired with heat and she clenched her hands into fists. ‘I am not going to have sex with you.’
He ran his eyes over her leisurely, heating her with the caress of his gaze as if he had physically touched her. She felt her breasts tingle, she felt her insides contract and shamelessly weep with want. ‘It’s going to happen,’ he said. ‘You can already feel it, can’t you?’
‘I feel nothing,’ she bit out.
He took half a step to shrink the distance between their bodies. Bella had nowhere to move as the garden bed was behind her. She drew in a breath as he trailed a lazy finger across the sensitive skin stretched over her left clavicle. Her nerves leapt and danced and shimmied under his mesmerising touch. ‘Can you feel that?’ he asked, locking his gaze on hers.
She swallowed tightly as a host of sensations coursed through her like a shivery tide. ‘You have no right to touch me,’ she said, although her voice wasn’t as strong and determined as she had intended. It sounded breathless and husky.
‘You give me the right every time you look at me like that,’ he said, tracing a pathway down the neckline of her top.
She felt her breasts tighten in anticipation. Her breathing stalled. Her heart stuttered like an old diesel engine inside her chest. She scrunched her eyes closed, fighting for strength of will. ‘I’m not even looking at you, see?’ she said.
He leaned in closer. She felt him. She felt his thighs brush against hers, and a wave of heat went through her like a knife through soft butter. She felt the sexy breeze of his breath against the skin of her neck. She breathed in the warm, male scent of him: the sweat, the musk, the complex cologne with its intriguing layers of citrus, spice and wood. The hairs on the back of her neck lifted one by one as his lips moved against her skin in a caressing nibble that shot an arrow of need straight to her core.
Bella made a little whimpering sound in her throat, a mixture of frustration and acquiescence. ‘I don’t want you,’ she said.
‘I know you don’t,’ he said, brushing his lips against hers in a teasing touch and lift off caress.
‘I hate you,’ she said, but the words somehow lacked conviction.
‘I know you do,’ he said and sucked softly on her lower lip until her legs threatened to fold beneath her.
Bella grasped his head between her hands, seeking his mouth in blind passion. The hot press of his mouth on hers detonated her senses and sent them into a fiery tailspin. She pushed her body against his, hungry for him in a way s
he had never thought possible. She ached for his possession, an urgent pulsing ache that was centred at the feminine heart of her.
He gripped her hips and ground against her shamelessly as his mouth worked its masterful magic on hers. It was so raw and primal. She felt the hot, hard heat of him throbbing against her stomach. It awoke every earthy sense in her body.
His hands moved from her hips to tug at her clothes. Her senses shrieked in rapturous delight at the rough urgency. He had her sweater pulled up, her top out of her skirt and her bra undone before she could find the fastener on his jeans. The wintry air danced over her flesh, but before she could shiver, his calloused hands moved over her naked breasts, making every nerve twitch in response. Her nipples tightened as he rolled his thumb over them, her spine turning to liquid as he brought his mouth over each one in turn. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the pleasure of feeling his rough, stubbly face moving over her soft skin.
His mouth came back to hers just as she undid his jeans. He grunted with approval as she finally freed him. The hot, silky length of him filled her hand. Her heart raced as she thought of him moving inside her. She had never been so lust-driven in her life. Every other sexual encounter paled to insignificance. No one had ever made her feel so alive and in tune with her senses. Her skin was super-sensitive to his touch, to the stroke and glide of his hands, to the hot, moist possession of his mouth.
He lifted up her skirt and ruthlessly ripped her knickers and tights down to her knees. Her mouth was still jammed on his, her tongue duelling with his in a battle that was not just about strength of wills but about mutual need.
He played her with his fingers, gently at first, exploring her in intimate detail, before upping the pace. She was swept up in the moment, unable to stop the sensations that ricocheted through her like a speeding bullet. She cried out as her body shuddered and shook against his fingers, her breath coming in startled gasps.
She sagged against him when it was over, shocked at how completely he had unravelled her.
Shocked and shamed.
She stiffened and pushed back from him, grabbing at her tights. ‘Oh, dear God...’
His expression was inscrutable. ‘We can finish this indoors,’ he said, zipping up his jeans. ‘I haven’t got a condom in my tool belt.’
Bella felt anger shoot through her like a powerful, galvanising drug. This was all a game to him. He had no feelings for her. All he felt was lust. He had ‘serviced’ her to prove a point. He wanted to reduce her to a shameless hussy who was driven by physical desires instead of intellect and morality.
‘You did that deliberately, didn’t you?’ she asked, shooting him a contemptuous glare as she tried to fix her disordered clothes. ‘You seduced me like a common little trollop to prove a point.’
‘I was right,’ he said with a glinting look. ‘You went off like a bomb.’
Bella swung her hand through the air and landed a stinging slap on his cheek. He barely flinched but her hand felt as if the bones had splintered. ‘You...you bastard,’ she said, cradling her hand to numb the jarring pain.
The silence pulsated with tension.
Bella suddenly wondered if he would hit her back. His face was a marble mask, his eyes soulless. Her gaze went to his hands; they were clenched tightly by his sides. Fear was like a cold, hard hand on the back of her neck. She stood rooted to the spot, staring at him with wide, uncertain eyes.
He slowly released a breath and unlocked his hands. ‘Is that really the sort of man you think I am?’ he asked.
She licked her paper-dry lips. ‘I shouldn’t have slapped you... I’m sorry...’
He picked up the ladder and tucked it under one arm. ‘Apology accepted,’ he said and strode away until he disappeared from sight.
CHAPTER SEVEN
EDOARDO sat behind the mahogany desk in the study and looked sightlessly at the figures in front of him on his computer screen. Work was usually the panacea for all ills but he couldn’t get his brain to focus. All he could think about was the feel of Bella in his arms. His body still throbbed with desire. It was like a banked-down fire deep inside him. Just one spark of her gaze and he was alight again.
He had made her confront her desire for him but it had come at a price. The look on her face, the shadow of fear in her brown eyes as she had stood there, made his stomach churn. He had seen that look in his mother’s eyes before his stepfather had raised his hand in one of his drunken rages. Even after all these years he could still hear the sound of that clenched fist landing on his mother’s face or body.
He pushed back from the desk, stood up and wandered over to the window. The weather forecast had predicted a heavy fall of snow overnight. He could see the clouds gathering in brooding clusters on the horizon.
They reminded him of his mood.
Fergus got up from the rug with a tired sigh and made his way creakily to the door. Edoardo opened it for him just as Bella was walking past. She gave him a startled look and stepped backwards, one of her hands going to her milky throat. ‘You scared me,’ she said.
‘That seems to be a habit of mine just lately,’ he said.
Her eyes fell away from his. ‘I know you’re not like...that,’ she said in a quiet voice.
‘So you feel safe with me, do you, Bella?’ he asked.
She slowly brought her toffee-brown eyes to his. ‘Of course I do...’
‘You don’t sound very sure about that.’
Her teeth tugged at her lower lip for a moment. ‘I know you would never physically hurt me,’ she said.
‘I sense a “but” lurking somewhere in that statement.’
She let out a wobbly little breath. ‘This thing between us...it has to stop. It has to stop before it gets complicated.’
He slanted her a cynical smile. ‘It’s already complicated, Bella,’ he said. ‘Your father made it a hundred times more so by putting me in charge of your life.’
Her gaze appealed to his. ‘You could always quit the guardianship. You’d be free of me and I’d be free of you. It’s a win-win for both of us.’
‘Not going to happen, princess,’ he said. ‘I made a promise to your father. He trusted me to keep you out of trouble. He worked damn hard to get where he got. I’m not going to stand by and see some gold-digging gigolo waltz into your life and take everything.’
‘Why do you think I’m gullible enough to let something like that happen?’ she asked with a frown.
‘You’re too trusting,’ Edoardo said. ‘You’re so desperate for approval and acceptance you can’t see the difference between genuine friendship and exploitation.’
She flashed him a glare. ‘I have lots and lots of genuine friends. Not one of them exploits me.’
He cocked a brow. ‘How much rent do you charge those four girls who share your house?’
She pressed her lips together without answering, her cheeks turning rosy red.
‘Nothing, right?’ he said. ‘You’re a fool, Bella. They’re using you, and you can’t or won’t see it.’
‘You know nothing about my friends,’ she said. ‘So I help them out with a place to stay—what of it? They help me in turn.’
‘How?’ he asked with a curl of his lip. ‘Let me guess: they help you spend your allowance on useless fripperies each month.’
Her eyes gave an annoyed little roll. ‘I don’t have to explain my personal expenses to you.’
‘For God’s sake, Bella, you went through fifteen thousand pounds in the last couple of months,’ he said. ‘You can’t keep spending like that. You have to take responsibility for yourself. I’m not going to be around to keep you on track for ever.’
She sent him a caustic look. ‘I can keep myself on track. I don’t need you.’
‘You do need me,’ he said. ‘And you’ve got me for another year, so y
ou’d better get used to it.’
‘What’s the point of stringing this crazy guardianship thing out for another year?’ she asked. ‘You want to be free of me just as much as I want to be free of you. Anyway, once I get married to Julian, you’ll have to relinquish your hold over me.’
‘You’re not getting married until you’re twenty-five,’ he said. ‘Not while I have anything to do with it.’
She clenched her hands by her sides, anger in every rigid line of her body. ‘Is that why you’ve been busily trying to seduce me any chance you could?’ she asked.
He returned her fiery look with cool ease. ‘Are you going to tell your God-fearing boyfriend that you’ve slept with me?’
Her eyes turned to flint. ‘I have not slept with you.’
‘Are you going to tell him you had an orgasm with me, then?’ he asked.
Her cheeks bloomed with colour again. ‘I didn’t have any such thing with you. You didn’t...you know...’ She whooshed out a little breath and shifted her eyes from his. ‘We didn’t go that far.’
‘You probably won’t have to tell him.’
Her eyes flew back to his. ‘What do you mean?’
‘He’ll know as soon as he sees you,’ Edoardo said. ‘You won’t be able to hide it, especially if he sees you interact with me.’
She clamped her lips together as if she was struggling to keep back a retort. She released them after a moment. ‘I can’t think of any situation or event where you and Julian would be present at the same time.’
‘So you’re not going to invite me to your wedding?’ he asked.
She gave him a pointed look. ‘Would you come if I did?’
Edoardo considered her question for a moment. Over the years his mind had occasionally drifted to the day when she would walk down the aisle to some man standing at the altar. He had no doubt she would make a beautiful bride. She would love being the centre of attention; it would be her chance to be a princess for the day.
