Had she come from this side at all? It was all so symmetrical she really had no idea of which way to turn. She went back to the steps of the front door and stood very still, trying to get her bearings.
The dusk was fast becoming full dark and the near silence of the woods surrounded her, whispering tired sounds as the day came to an end. The only other sound came from her own jagged breathing and the loud thumping of her heart. She knew it was irrational. Even if she did have to stay here until the morning, it wouldn’t be so bad. It really only meant a chilly, damp night camping and she had had plenty of those in her youth, when she had been a girl guide.
She would miss her fabulous dinner and Justin might be worried, but as she had stormed off, leaving him standing open mouthed beside the stunned estate agent, she could hardly expect him to have mounted a search party. He was probably sitting, relaxed at the hotel bar, starting on the first of his vodka and tonics. She put her hand in her pocket to find her phone, but then stopped as she clearly remembered leaving her mobile in the car because there was no signal
“Damn, what a fool!” She muttered to herself crossly, but she secretly knew that she probably wouldn’t have telephoned Justin for help. She wouldn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
She rubbed the patch of filthy glass again and pressed her face close, wondering if she wouldn’t be better off inside the château, but she could only make out a tiny patch of damp floor before it gave way to impenetrable inky black. She could see shards of shattered windows winking in the moonlight and then nothing. She suddenly felt that she would rather stay outside than attempt to get in. At least she wouldn’t be in danger of cutting herself out here.
She squatted and then eased herself down onto the top step, staring away from the doors, into the darkness. The hard flagstones were cold under her backside and it wasn’t long before she was shivering almost uncontrollably. She thought again about trying to find her way through the trees, but she had no idea of where to start, and short of stumbling through the forest all night long, without any guarantee of finding civilization, she was better off staying put, cold or otherwise.
She tried to make herself more comfortable, pressing her back into the corner of the stone doorway where it met the outside wall and rubbing the tops of her arms briskly, she attempted to regain some of the heat of her march. She closed her eyes, tucked her chin into her chest and wished the hours away, not thinking of the luxurious mattress and fluffy quilt waiting at her hotel.
But the thought of the warm covers was too much and, in a sort of waking dream, she pulled the fluffy down duvet over her now freezing shoulders and huddled into the château entrance.
It was only as she heard the heavy breathing, breathing very unlike Justin’s that she realized that somebody was right beside her and that a thick coat had been thrown across her body.
She sat bolt upright and tried to catch her breath as she saw the shape of a well-built man looming over her. He staggered backwards, surprised at her sudden movement and the darkness disguised his features for a moment. Then the moon appeared from behind a cloud and she caught a glimpse of an almost familiar, handsome but ragged face, pale in the moonlight, shadowed or perhaps wrinkled strangely on one side, with glinting sapphire eyes peering at her from under long dark hair. Another cloud raced across the moon again and everything was plunged into darkness.
She scrabbled back into the corner as far as she was able, but he leaned in towards her, tall and heavy across the shoulders. She felt his breath, warm and garlicky, waft over her. He reached out his hand as she opened her mouth to ask who he was, and put a warm palm gently across her trembling lips. He muttered in a hoarse whisper.
“Shhh. I’m not going to hurt you. Come with me. I’ll take you to the road.”
He waited for just a moment, checking that she had understood him, before he took his hand away from her mouth again and grappled at the top of her arm. She swallowed dryly as he pulled her gently upright. She caught another hint of garlic and something that smelled like fresh herbs. Rosemary maybe? It wasn’t unpleasant. It was delicious. She was so caught up in his scent that she didn’t realize for a moment that he had spoken to her in English.
He towered over her, the dark shadows of the château masking his true outline, his forceful presence electrifying the air all around her. And then she noticed he was favouring one side as he dragged her, with a slightly uneven lope, down the stone steps. She twisted away from his grasp as they reached the rough grass and she stared towards him, willing the clouds out of the way.
She wanted to see him clearly. She wanted to know who this Englishman was. The clouds moved across the sky in a thick blanket of darkest grey. Ellen was about to turn across the front of the château, but he caught hold of her again, his huge hand encircling her upper arm firmly, fiery heat penetrating through her flimsy jacket. He began pushing her towards the even darker leaves of the forest. It was several seconds before she found her voice.
“Stop! I’m fine, you don’t need to hold me. I don’t need your help.” She could hear the slight tremor in her own voice, though she wasn’t afraid.
The man gave a gravelled grunt, and then what may possibly have been a laugh. He let go of her arm suddenly and caught the edge of the coat still draped around her shoulders then, in another hoarse whisper, he growled.
“If you want to stay out in the cold all night then fine, I’ll leave you here, but I guess you’d rather go back to your hotel.” His voice was deep, rasping in the back of his throat, his words punctuated with breathy swallows, but she noticed the accent. Very much like her own, often mistaken by the French for London, but really Essex.
She was so taken aback that she stopped struggling and let him pull her through the undergrowth. It took her a few more minutes of being dragged along through the now pitch black forest, before she had the breath to speak again
“I need to get to Plestin. I know it’s not far but I have to admit that I’m slightly disorientated. Do you know the way?” She kept her eyes on the space above her. Although she could see virtually nothing, she looked at where she could hear the sound of his breathing, steady and firm.
There was a low throaty laugh at her ear and the man let go of her entirely. For a second she was lost in the inky dark, she whimpered as she stretched out her hands, blindly batting air until he caught her arm again. He laughed once again. His tone was more normal now. Not nearly so gruff. It was as though he was getting used to using his own voice.
“I know the way better than you, and you obviously do need my help. I said I’d take you as far as the road. We’re nearly there. Can you see the lights yet? You’ve got about another half mile after you reach them, but if I point you the right way you should be able to manage that on your own even with your terrible sense of direction.” As insulted as she was she kept quiet. Something in his tone made her thrill and shiver and want to hear him again. His voice was warm and as deep as his breathing, but he was silent now as he guided her further onwards.
She caught the hint of a perfume, rich and spicy. She breathed it in deeply and closed her eyes. And then a sudden feeling of complete arousal nearly overcame her. A feeling that she hadn’t had for years and with an intensity she had never experienced before. She clamped her lips together as incredibly erotic sensations shot through her body. She balled her hands into tight fists, almost afraid that she would say something or even do something regrettable. She felt almost faint as his muscled arm brushed past her cheek as he pointed in front of her.
He spoke again, this time his voice melted over her, thick and velvety.
“There, see them now? The lights along the road.”
She couldn’t answer and she didn’t look at his hand, she didn’t want to see the lights. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribs and she knew that she wanted to stay with him here in the dark forest.
What the hell was the matter with her? He was a complete stranger. A hobo, obviously living rough in these woods, ma
ybe a tramp who sheltered in the château. Not some Prince Charming about to sweep her off her feet. And why would she want a Prince Charming anyway? She had Justin. Her heart plummeted and she shook herself back to reality, pushing this strange man’s husky, secret tones into the back of her mind as she stared ahead, straining her eyes into the endless darkness and seeing nothing at all. He guided her further along the path, his body so close to hers that she could feel the heat pulsing from him.
Another twenty paces she could see pinpoints of light in the distance. Relief surged through her. She wasn’t sure if it was relief to see the lights or relief that she could now move away from his intoxicating presence. She breathed out a huge lungful of air.
“Yes, I can see them now. I knew I was near the town. I was just disorientated. Thank you so much.” She turned towards the man at her elbow, but his warmth was no longer at her side and she realized that he was already gone. She stood still for a few seconds, feeling horribly empty and cold, listening to the small, whispering sounds of the forest moving gently as someone pushed their way through the undergrowth, and then there was complete silence again. “Thanks Essex boy!” She yelled playfully out into the dark.
From further away than she would have imagined possible in the few short moments he had left her, she heard a faint.
“No problem, Essex girl. Night.” There was a slight laugh in his deep tones.
She peered after the beautiful voice for a long moment, strangely glad that he had known her accent too, and then she turned back toward the lights of the town and walked briskly along the main road.
She skipped up to the wide entrance of her hotel, about to push through the heavy glass doors when she realized she was still holding the overcoat the man had thrown over her. She clasped it tightly around her shoulders. It was made of a heavy khaki material with a furred lining, thick and warm and she breathed in the fabulous, woodsy smell of it. She stood for a second on the threshold of the hotel and turned back towards the forest wondering where he lived.
Would he be missing it? She didn’t know whether to run back and call out to him again. But then she heard raised voices coming from inside the hotel foyer, and recognizing one of them, she turned to the glass doors to see a glowering Justin, red in the face, shouting furiously at the hapless receptionist.
The man was watching the hotel entrance, invisible amongst the thick shrubbery. He stood quietly, his eyes fixed upon her from the opposite side of the road. He saw her march up to the wide glass doors, shoulders tight, back straight and then she stopped and looked back to the road for a second. She seemed to shrink in on herself for a moment but then she shook her shoulders, pushed the door open with a determined shove and disappeared inside.
He drew his eyebrows together, a little confused. She hadn’t sounded at all unhappy as he had marched her through the forest but she had been frowning as she had approached the hotel and, if he wasn’t mistaken, she didn’t look as though she really wanted to be there.
He had turned away from her as she had seen the lights along the road and had melted back into the bushes to go home. He had only doubled back and kept watch over her to make sure she wasn’t stupid enough to turn the wrong way when she reached the junction. And then, quite suddenly, as her perfume stole about him again, warm and succulent in the night chill, he had not wanted to let her out of his sight. He forgot about his dinner congealing in his oven and walked parallel to her, keeping in step, as he remained hidden by the thick screen of bushes. He caught another hint of her scent as he watched her slender figure striding out purposefully.
He had been impressed when she sat down by the door of the château. He had hoped she would be able to find her way to the hotel after he had altered the route of the path. It was quite direct if you knew where to start.
It was obvious that she didn’t have a clue.
She had missed it completely, not noticing the marker as she ploughed through the undergrowth around the château.
He had thought that she was going to dissolve into a sudden deluge of tears, but to his complete surprise, she had just sighed, in a resigned sort of way, brushed a few leaves away from around where she was going to sit and had squatted down. She was asleep almost immediately.
He had nearly laughed out loud at her gentle snoring, her hair falling all about her shoulders and lifting slightly as she breathed rhythmically. She had looked almost comfortable, tucked against the cold stone. Certainly not scared. He had been about to leave her there, when she had given an involuntary shiver as she nodded gently. It rolled right through her body and he knew he couldn’t leave her, cold and unattended for the entire night.
If she hadn’t woken as he’d placed his coat over her, he would have just kept an eye on her, but he thought that she had been about to scream at him and he didn’t want her to do that. He hated screaming. He had heard enough screaming to last him a lifetime and he didn’t think her being a woman, would make it any easier for him to bear. He placed his hand as gently as he could over her mouth.
Her breath had whispered through his fingers, warm and moist and her eyes had opened wide. He took hold of her arm, steadying her as she wobbled down the stone steps.
Her arm had felt thin, not skinny, but strong and tightly muscled under his hand. She had wrenched herself away from him with unexpected strength. He’d stared at her curiously in the darkness, seeing her tumbling hair, dark against the smooth, pale skin of her face. She glimmered softly in the moonlight. Her huge dark eyes sparkled under heavy black lashes as she stared up at him. In the fading light he couldn’t decide if they were brown or green. Whichever was the case, it didn’t matter. He knew he had made a huge mistake.
He had stood stunned.
She was utterly beautiful.
He breathed deeply as he thought of her wide eyes, and a strange constricting sensation gripped his chest.
She hadn’t recoiled from him and he had assumed that she hadn’t or couldn’t see his terrible face. Maybe she needed glasses, or maybe she just couldn’t see well in the dark, she hadn’t seen the streetlights for minutes after they were visible to him. He felt relieved, his vile features were not something that anybody would want to see unexpectedly.
He rubbed his hand over the side of his face and recoiled from himself. The disgusting waxy feeling, cold and hard and unnatural was still there, a constant reminder of how careless he had been. He flexed his square jaw for a brief moment, then dropped his hand to his side and sighed miserably. It was nothing he could fix and at least she hadn’t appeared to notice. He was glad that she hadn’t seen him clearly. He hated the way people reacted to the way he looked. Either a grim determination not to look away from him, smile fixed on their horrified lips, or an embarrassed glance down, then a flick back to his eyes before they looked anywhere else but his face. For the last two years he had stayed hidden away in the forest, avoiding contact with others as much as possible.
He watched her carefully through the hotel doors for a few moments longer, feeling slightly uneasy as he saw her talking to a good-looking blond man. He smiled grimly when she didn’t look very pleased to see the man. She turned away from the looker sharply and stalked up the wide staircase beside the foyer.
He sighed as she disappeared from his view. The man at the desk was obviously her lover, however displeased she appeared to be by seeing him. He had noted her lack of wedding band almost immediately. Not that her wearing of a wedding band or not would ever concern him. He turned and sighed deeply as he trudged, back towards his house in the woods, pushing the undergrowth out of his way as he stomped unevenly along the familiar but nearly invisible path.
It was only when a thick stemmed bramble tore painfully at his shoulder, scragging his skin through his shirt, that he realized that the woman still had his coat. He stopped and turned back for a second, wondering if he dared go and ask for it, but then he shrugged, it wasn’t that cold. He’d seen her pick up the “For Sale” sign at the château and had heard her breathe o
ut “Fantastic.” She would obviously be back and with a bit of luck, she would bring his coat. He wasn’t entirely adverse to the idea, she was certainly lovely to look at, and he wanted to look at her again.
He wouldn’t mind hearing her soft voice again either. Funny how they had both recognized the Essex accent. The few people in France that he’d had the courage to talk to seemed to think he came from the East End of London. She had a graceful, educated tone and he wondered where she came from exactly. Not Dagenham, that was for sure. He took a deep breath. It wasn’t as if he was going to ask her. If she did bother to bring back his coat, he would have to be careful and stay out of sight. He hadn’t scared her tonight but it wouldn’t be so easy to remain invisible during the daytime.
He gave an unexpected shudder as he imagined the look on her face if she ever saw his, and he hoped fervently that it would never happen.
Chapter Two
“Do you have any idea of who I am? I want the police called now! It’s dark and she could have wandered anywhere. She has no sense of direction at all. The cliff is only a few hundred meters away. You’ll take the blame if any harm comes to her.” Justin’s voice was carrying all around the hotel. Several other guests had stopped in the reception area to stare at him.
The receptionist sighed in relief as she saw Ellen walking towards them. She smiled broadly and spoke in heavily accented English.
“Actually Monsieur, I ‘ave no idea of who you are but it is of no consequence anyway, she is ‘ere now. She ‘as not been lost. You ‘ave made an error. I think she ‘as just been for a walk.” She added as she looked down at the mud on Ellen’s jeans.
Justin was about to bluster in fury again but then he looked over his shoulder at Ellen as she trudged towards him. Ellen smiled graciously at the receptionist and then raised her eyebrows at her fiancé. His handsome face was blotched red, his normally perfect hair dishevelled.
Running Scarred (Scarred Series Book 1) Page 2
