The clock in the corner gave a low chime, announcing the hour. She flinched, and Alex’s gaze turned to it. Something in his attention shifted, and he relaxed back against the cushions. ‘I haven’t heard that in years.’
‘The chimes?’ Trying to cover her discomfort, she looked to the polished wood and brass fixture. She loved that clock, but she’d gotten so used to the melodic tolls she barely noticed them any more. ‘Did it used to be up in the manor?’
‘It’s been here as long as I can remember.’
His gaze was hazy, as if he was somewhere far away.
‘One of those memories popping up?’ she asked.
His eyes went darker, and he sat up again to return to her computer. ‘This was my secret spot,’ he confessed. ‘It was a good hiding place, but eventually I’d have to go back.’
She frowned. ‘To the main house?’
‘Yeah.’ His fingers stilled on the keyboard. ‘Like now,’ he said, breaking out of it. He closed the laptop with a snap. ‘This needs help I can’t give it here.’
Her heart sank. She’d thought he’d be able to fix it with a push of a few buttons.
‘I have more diagnostic tools up at the manor.’ He held out his hand for her. ‘Come on. We’ll have some dinner while we’re at it.’
She tilted her head back to look at him. She’d heard that line before.
His face took on that flat expression again. ‘I have no seduction plans. You ran back here pretty damn fast this morning, and I hadn’t heard from you. I didn’t know where things stood between us.’
She didn’t know either.
Yet she put her hand in his.
His fingers tightened around hers. ‘That doesn’t mean it won’t happen again.’
No, she was beginning to understand how it was for both of them. A spark. A glance. Something so little could ignite into so much more.
She followed him to the door, but he stopped and pulled the grey hoodie off the hook. He held it out to her, and she obediently put it on. She tugged up the sleeves and pulled her hair out so it swung down her back. When she lifted her chin, she found him looking at her in that intense way and the air in the room became charged. ‘Why did you give this back to me?’ she asked.
‘Because I like seeing it on you.’ He ran his finger around the shell of her ear, sending shivers down her neck. He pulled back. ‘I like what it says.’
‘What does it say?’
He hesitated a moment, but then cleared his throat. ‘That you like me wrapped around you.’
Her stomach flipped. She didn’t think that was what he intended to say, but it made a powerful image. Danger signs flared in her head. Her mother had warned her not to follow her hormones.
Yet she took his hand as he led her up the hill. ‘How bad is my computer?’
She could only tackle one dilemma at a time.
‘I’m hoping I can rescue the data.’
‘But the machine?’
‘Probably shouldn’t even be siphoned for parts. I’ll put everything on a new one.’
Her steps slowed. ‘How much will that cost?’
He got a funny look on his face. ‘You do know who I am, right?’
‘If you have a loaner one I can use …’
‘I have a brand spanking new one you can have.’
‘I’ll pay you for it,’ she promised.
He began walking again. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
A damp chill was in the air, and Elena had a feeling the dog days of summer were gone. Fall had settled in, and it looked like it was going to be a dreary one. The colour of the season was fading fast, and everything was blending into a bleak grey.
It wasn’t an atmosphere conducive to hope.
She hurried through the door to the manor when Alex opened it for her. Tonight, the kitchen was quiet. She frowned when she didn’t see Marta hovering over the stove. The cook seemed to delight in feeding them.
And watching them with curiosity.
‘Leonard?’ Alex called.
The butler appeared in the doorway, his polished shoes somehow not making any sound on the hardwood floor. ‘Yes, sir?’
‘How long until James returns?’
‘Not long. He called and is almost to Bedford.’
Alex nodded and lifted the laptop. ‘We’ll be in the tech room.’
Leonard’s forehead furrowed. ‘Nothing serious, I hope.’
Elena hung up the hoodie and sent a woeful look the butler’s way. ‘Cross your fingers for me.’
A compassionate look came over his face. ‘You’ve got the right man working on the problem, dear.’
The right man.
She stuffed her fingertips into the pockets of her jeans. Was he?
‘This way,’ Alex said. ‘Marta had a doctor’s appointment, so we’re having takeout tonight. Is that OK?’
‘It’s fine.’ She hooked her hair behind her ear. ‘Your staff doesn’t need to wait on me.’
‘They like you.’
He led her down the hallway to the left, a direction she’d never gone before. Her eyebrows lifted when he pushed a button on the wall. It was an elevator.
He stepped inside when the carriage door opened, and she frowned. ‘Your claustrophobia doesn’t bother you in there?’
He punched a button. ‘The controls are on the inside.’
‘Ah.’ She joined him and watched the buttons as they lit up one-by-one. It wasn’t necessarily the small space, but the loss of control. For a man who controlled everything, that made sense.
Prison must have been hell on earth for him.
Her heart ached for him, but the sympathy came with a healthy dose of shame. Most people would say that the punishment fit the crime.
She might have, too, until a few days ago. Now, she wasn’t so sure.
The ride to the third floor was short. When the doors opened, Elena found herself in a long hallway very similar to the one on the second floor. Like there, the doors were open. She followed Alex into a room. The moment she stepped inside, her jaw dropped.
The tech room, he’d so nonchalantly called it.
Talk about an understatement. This was techie heaven.
There were workbenches filled with wires, circuit boards and gauges. Tables held desktop computers, laptops, tablets, phones and power cords. Surge protectors and monitors were on shelves. MP3 players and televisions filled in the gaps.
‘I had a few things brought here in preparation for my arrival,’ he confessed.
‘A few things?’ She walked around eyeing the assortment. It was awe-inspiring, and it reminded her more clearly who he was. Not the criminal, but one of the world’s leading thinkers. She was in the home of a tech industry giant. By all rights, she shouldn’t even know him.
Much less be having sex with him.
He went directly to a workbench in front of yet another window that looked out on Wolfe Lake. He set her laptop down and turned to a metal rack filled with components and newer, fancier models.
He selected a razor-thin silver laptop. ‘Will this do?’
Who was she to argue with him? ‘Whatever you think is best.’
Her guilt over accepting a castoff from him was lessening. He had so much. She sat down on a stool and folded her hands in her lap. Once again, she was afraid to touch anything. ‘I thought your specialty was software.’
‘It is, but I dabble.’
He dabbled. Like he read advanced books on macroeconomics and trained like an Olympic athlete.
He held a tiny screwdriver over her laptop. ‘Is it going to bother you to watch me do this?’
Absolutely.
‘No,’ she said.
He lifted an eyebrow. ‘Liar.’
She lowered her gaze.
He’d just unscrewed the first screw when his phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and then back to her. ‘I need to take this.’
She looked around the room when he stepped away. It was organised and tidy, but not pristine like the rest
of the house. This was a room that was used, not a showpiece. Everything looked to be top-of-the-line, but where there were communication tools and high-end electronics, there were also gadgets. And toys.
She’d wondered once if she’d ever see the true Wolfe. This might be as close as she’d get.
‘You’re sure? Nothing?’ he asked the caller. She sat a little straighter on the stool when he realised she was staring right at her. ‘All right, email me your findings.’
He hung up, and that cool grey gaze settled on her again. Elena tried not to fidget as he walked back over to her. He put down his tools and settled a protective hand over her laptop.
‘Why don’t I work on this later?’
‘Are you sure? It won’t hurt anything to wait?’
‘Only your nerves.’ He cupped her face and ran his thumb over her cheek. He stared at her for so long, it became uncomfortable.
‘What?’ she whispered.
He shook his head briefly. ‘You confuse me, too.’ Pushing away from the tall workbench, he caught her hand. ‘Let’s go see about that dinner.’
They rode the elevator back down to the main floor, but Elena wasn’t hungry. Worry had taken her appetite. The driver was just coming in the kitchen door when they got there. She blinked when she saw the square white boxes in his massive brown hands.
‘Grimaldi’s?’ She recognised the logo on sight, and her mouth began to water. She hadn’t eaten there in months. ‘From the city? Are you serious?’
Alex shrugged. ‘It sounded good. We might have to reheat it a bit. I hope that’s OK.’
She looked at him, dumbfounded. He must have been craving New York style pizza.
‘What would you like to drink, Miss Elena?’
Leonard took over at that point, ushering them into the breakfast nook.
Elena was still stunned. She looked at the pizza on her plate, unable to fathom that they’d brought it in from the city. New York was an hour away, yet Alex had thought nothing of the extravagance. ‘It’s a bit overwhelming to be you, isn’t it?’
He stopped shaking red pepper on his slice. ‘What do you mean?’
‘All of this.’ She toyed with the napkin in her lap. Somehow, linen didn’t seem right. ‘It’s all so much. The houses and the land, the private gym, a NSA-worthy electronics suite …’
His brow furrowed. ‘That’s twice now that you’ve said something like that. Your father was Randolph Bardot.’
She was well aware of the fact.
‘Even before his crimes, he was a very wealthy man.’
She shrugged. ‘Because he knew where to scrimp and save.’
Alex’s brow furrowed. In the dimmed lighting of the nook, it made him look dark and intimidating. It reminded her of that first time she’d seen him watching her from the balcony, and she fought not to shrink back into her seat.
‘Are you saying that he didn’t support you at all?’
She breathed very slowly. ‘He paid the mandated alimony and child support. The judge also made sure he paid for my undergraduate degree.’
‘But nothing more.’
‘His lawyer was better than Mom’s.’
The air in the tiny room turned downright chilly.
‘It was all right,’ she said quickly. ‘She and I did fine together. We had fun. I … I just missed him.’
A muscle flexed in Alex’s jaw.
She turned her attention back to the pizza. Her appetite had fled, but she folded the slice in half and took another bite. Flavour filled her senses, but it might as well have been cardboard. ‘This is delicious. Thank you for including me.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘I would have been happy with a slice from the convenience store in Bedford.’
‘Enough.’ That was when he moved in that lightning-fast way of his. Leaning over the table, he speared his hand into her hair and cupped the back of her head. His grey gaze was searching and Elena caught something she hadn’t seen in him before. Caution.
The air in the nook changed. The outrage was still in his eyes, but it was accompanied by surprise. ‘You’re for real, aren’t you?’
The words were quiet and almost reverent, but she flinched and pulled back. ‘I don’t joke about money.’
This might all be a game to him, toying with numbers here and watching results there, but money had value to her. Apparently those who didn’t have it valued it more.
‘Wait. Stop. That’s not what I meant.’
She hesitated, fingers curling into her napkin. His hand still cupped the back of her neck, but it wasn’t controlling. It was almost … protective. She looked at him warily.
‘Why did you come here, Elena? To Wolfe Manor?’
‘You know why. To finish my dissertation.’
‘You could have done that anywhere. Why here?’
‘Leonard offered and the price was right.’
A muscle in his jaw flexed. With his stubbly beard, it made him look ruthless.
She sighed and shied away from that piercing gaze. ‘The same as you, OK? The truth is that I needed to be here. I needed to plan. And rage.’
She waited for the flash of anger, but her stomach squeezed when she saw what was in his eyes. He still guarded his thoughts and emotions like a wolf defending its den, but desire shone dark and clear. Only this time it wasn’t purely sexual. The wanting went deeper. To yearning.
‘Stay,’ he finally said, his voice raspy.
She’d known that, with them, dinner couldn’t just be dinner.
He shook his head and his thumb rubbed over her ear. ‘Just … stay.’
Chapter Nine
When Elena awoke the next day, she was alone in Alex’s bed. The room was quiet. The door to the office was closed and her clothes had been picked up off the floor. They were folded on the chair in the corner of the room and an extra blanket had been spread over her. Good thing. The air had a nip to it and all she was wearing was a T-shirt he’d loaned her. The bed wasn’t as warm without him.
She curled into the pillow as she surveyed the weather outside. The sun was hidden again amongst the clouds, but she could tell she’d slept later than usual. Her toes pointed as she stretched. She didn’t think she’d moved all night long. She barely remembered putting her head on the pillow and curling up in Alex’s arms.
Her hand settled against her stomach as she watched a hawk soar against the slate-coloured clouds. They hadn’t made love. They’d simply slept together. There’d been a strain in the air, but not with each other. He still seemed angry about something. He was adept at hiding his feelings and protecting his thoughts, but that much was clear. He’d held her to his side protectively. Almost possessively.
She couldn’t believe she hadn’t heard him get up.
She glanced to his side of the bed and spotted a note. Rolling over, she skimmed the brisk masculine handwriting. It made her come awake fast. He was working on her computer.
She flipped back the covers, got up and headed to the shower. She couldn’t laze around when he was doing that. Already she was worried about whether he’d be able to save her files.
And whether he’d look through them.
After a quick rinse, she got dressed in the clothes she’d worn the day before and made the bed. Looking around, she realised she had nothing to do. She didn’t want to go up to the tech room. Seeing her computer in bits was more than she could take. She rubbed her hands against her thighs. She couldn’t dwell on this. She needed to do something.
She went down to the kitchen and was happy to find Marta.
‘Good morning, ma’am.’ It came as no surprise that the cook was a morning person.
‘Good morning, Marta.’
‘You look all pink-cheeked and refreshed.’ The welcoming smile on the woman’s face turned a bit lopsided.
Elena’s cheeks turned pinker. There was no way to hide the fact that she’d spent the night. ‘I slept well.’
‘Would you like some breakfast?’ the cook asked
as she flipped a piece of bread on the hissing skillet in front of her. ‘I’m making French toast.’
The scent of cinnamon made Elena’s stomach growl. She hadn’t eaten much of the pizza last night. ‘That sounds wonderful.’
Marta grinned at the rumble and pointed to the counter with her spatula. ‘There’s some fresh fruit to tide you over until it’s ready.’
Elena was reaching for the strawberries when she noticed the newspaper. It appealed to the sense of hominess she was feeling. She hadn’t read news in print since she could remember, but with her computer on the fritz it was the perfect alternative. She climbed onto the barstool and skimmed the front page. The economy was the top headline as it seemed to be every day.
She opened the paper to the next page. Marta slid a plateful of hot French toast in front of her. Not wanting to let it cool, Elena spread butter on the slices and liberally poured on maple syrup. She rolled her eyes in bliss when she took her first bite.
‘Oh, Marta. This is divine.’
The bubbly chef practically beamed. ‘Orange juice or coffee?’
‘Yes, please.’
She’d made it through half the stack before she glanced again at the newspaper. When she did, she stopped with the fork halfway to her mouth. Bartholomew Wolfe stared up at her, haughty and narrow-eyed. It was an article about the possible sighting in Belize.
Her relaxed mood disappeared.
She read the article carefully, but the story was just as vague as all the ones that had come before it. A man matching Wolfe’s description had gone into a bank to exchange a large amount of American money for Belizean dollars. It was a short piece that the reporter had lengthened by tying it to the story of Alex’s release. How nice for him to bring the attention back to Wolfe Manor.
She took another bite of French toast and chewed mechanically. She didn’t see anything unique in the piece. Nothing stood out as either a hoax or the truth.
She glanced across the breakfast bar. Marta was wiping down the counter adjacent to the stove.
‘Did you work here when Alex’s grandfather was around?’ she asked as innocently as she could.
The woman turned, her gaze going to the newspaper. ‘I did.’
Solace in Scandal Page 13
