by Sara Wood
He shrugged. ‘It’s a useful deterrent, as I’m sure you’ve discovered for yourself. I gather you’re much sought after. Being free suits you—whereas living with Gemma and me was unpleasantly inhibiting for you—’
‘Let’s forget that!’ she said hastily, with a dismissive wave of her hand. She wasn’t going to sit there while he reminisced about bad times. Her knees began to tremble and she squeezed them together. ‘Water under the bridge,’ she said, more airily than she’d intended. She blushed. It sounded as if their break-up had meant nothing to her.
‘More like an ocean,’ he muttered.
For a moment she thought she saw regret in his eyes. Hers must have responded and gentled, because she felt her animosity vanishing like melting snow as his dark gaze captured and held hers.
They were very close to one another. Maybe a foot apart. Some Italians, she thought hazily, had no sense of personal space. They were close enough for her to find herself inching forwards to confirm the whisper of his breath across her throbbing mouth. Close enough to smell him. It was something she wasn’t prepared for: the familiar scent which was Luc, and Luc alone, clean, fresh and male.
It did terrible things to her. It reached parts she’d thought would never feel anything again. She could touch him if she chose to, perhaps run her finger along his mouth and trace the impossibly sultry outline of his lips. Her own mouth became soft and pouting at the thought.
And then she remembered why they were both here—to sever all links. That was why he looked as though he were pleading with her. To say ‘Shame it all happened, let’s call it quits, let me make a life of my own with Miss Right and Gemma’.
Ellen flinched. Caught like a helpless animal in the path of his monstrous aura, she forced herself to lean back in her chair, cutting off the invisible strings which had been drawing them together.
When he continued to study her with narrowed eyes, she floundered around for something to say. All she could come up with was a banality.
‘You’re better dressed than I remember. Otherwise you’ve hardly altered at all,’ she trotted out brightly, pretending to make an indifferent and cursory examination.
But everything she’d seen had been etched indelibly on her mind, and she wished he’d changed beyond all recognition too. He showed the same striking masculinity which had attracted her instantly. That identical terrifying chemistry which had bonded them together, in an instant, fatal attraction. An unchanging, awesome energy emanating from every pore of his body.
Yet there was something essentially different about his eyes and mouth. Ellen’s heart missed a beat. They showed no life. No softness.
‘Sometimes I wish I were the same man you married,’ he said, almost too quietly for her to hear.
Surprised by a painful echo of that wish, she grabbed the doughnut and bit deeply into it. Jam dripped on her chin and she absently set about it with her finger. She became aware that Luc had become unnaturally still. He wasn’t even breathing. And something definitely sexual was curling through her body in response to his raw animal attraction.
It wasn’t going to get her anywhere so she might as well ignore it. She’d worked too hard to overcome the past for it to overwhelm her now. Deliberately defying all the rules about provocative behaviour, she took as much time as she wanted in licking her finger clean and then met his black, unreadable eyes as though she were invincible.
‘You didn’t bring me here to wallow in old memories,’ she pointed out, amazed at her ability to cover up her confusion. ‘And I’m certainly not here to be sociable. Let’s get down to business.’
Her throat felt as if it had been sandpapered as she prepared to cut her daughter out of her life. Needing a caffeine rush, she sipped her hot coffee and flicked a brief glance at Luc. He was watching her as if he wanted to remember every detail of every inch. And yet there was a suppressed anger in his hard eyes and she instinctively drew back, scared of the venomous hatred he bore her.
‘Of course.’ He was all efficiency suddenly, confirming Ellen’s suspicions about his purpose. ‘It’s about Gemma,’ he said briskly.
Her stomach lurched. ‘I gathered that.’
She kept her tone dry and even, determined not to beg him to keep things as they were. He tapped his fingers on his folded newspaper impatiently, and it was as clear as day that he wanted to end this uncomfortable meeting. But she’d do that. She’d take charge of the situation and move from being victim to victor. Her heart pounded as she spoke again.
‘I know what you’re going to say. That’s why I agreed to meet you,’ she said quickly, anxious to get her ordeal over with. ‘I think…’ She dived in before she played chicken. ‘I’ve decided that it would be better for us all if Gemma never came to see me again.’
There. The deed was done. She sat frozen with horror at the terrible ease with which she’d eliminated the only person she loved in the whole wide world.
Luc, for his part, looked totally dumbfounded. He stared at her for a while then gave a short, mirthless laugh. ‘Well, you’ve taken the wind out of my sails! I was expecting a battle. You’re right, of course.’ He studied her pale, wan face curiously. ‘I suppose I have to thank you for making things less awkward for me.’
‘I’m doing this for Gemma,’ she said like an automaton.
She felt sick, the nausea clawing its way up to her throat. Desperate to be alone, to crawl into a corner somewhere and curl up in a miserable ball, she pretended to stare out of the window instead, forcing back the bile and willing him to take the hint from her stiff, cold body. She longed for him to leave so that she could let out her inner scream at last.
All she could see was her reflection and his. The two of them sat in seeming intimacy, huddled over the small table. Her own chalky face looked back at her with two large dark pools where her eyes should be. He was in profile, the lines of his face hard, intimidating and rigid.
‘Of course you’re thinking of her welfare,’ he said with heavy sarcasm, and she bridled because he plainly didn’t believe that. His next words proved her to be right. ‘But I imagine,’ he added silkily, ‘it also makes your life easier if you don’t have to give up your holidays and leisure time to look after her.’
Holidays? Leisure time? Chance would be a fine thing. Bleakly she wondered what it would be like to be totally alone. No Gemma. Not ever again. The pains were slicing into her heart and she had to put her hand there, on the pretext of sliding her fingers up to rub her collarbone.
‘I don’t want to do this. But Gemma’s obviously disturbed by being uprooted from all she knows. She hates being left in a foreign country,’ she began miserably.
‘You’re her mother. She’d accept the situation if you loved her, if you welcomed her with warmth and affection. Donatello says you’re cool and indifferent—’
‘No! I’m…’ Defeated by the thought of the lengthy explanation, she let her voice trail away.
How could she explain her caution? Whenever she’d put her arms out and offered a warm, loving smile, Gemma had stared at her stonily and clutched at Donatello’s legs. From way back in the early days Gemma had begun yelling even as he’d handed her over, and it had even crossed Ellen’s mind that Donatello must have pinched the child for such a sudden and alarming response to occur. But gradually she’d realised that Gemma hated the visits. And Ellen had tried hard not to demand too much from her child, hoping that in time they could come to an understanding.
Now they’d be strangers for ever. She coughed to disguise a sob, and sipped coffee to moisten her raw throat. And suddenly she knew she couldn’t bear to talk about this any longer. She wanted him to leave.
‘It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?’ she said, her voice near to breaking up. She needed privacy. Time to recover, to blank out her mind and get used to what she’d done. ‘There’s nothing else to say. Why don’t you go?’ she suggested sharply.
‘Oh, I will, and gladly,’ he growled. Then he leaned nearer, invading her space wi
th his tantalising male scent and the hateful soft murmur of his mocking voice. ‘Know something amusing, Ellen? I thought I was going to hurt you by telling you this evening that I intended to end your access rights.’
Her chest compressed. She’d been right. And she’d foiled his nasty little plan.
‘I’m sure you were looking forward to that enormously. I’m so sorry to have spoiled your fun by jumping the gun.’
She turned to give him one of her cold stares, but she felt far from cool inside. He’d looked forward to inflicting pain on her, she thought bitterly. So she was damned if she’d give him the satisfaction of knowing her heart was being chewed to shreds.
‘My mistake,’ he drawled. ‘I should have known you wouldn’t care. You’ve never cared, have you, Ellen? You always resented carrying out your motherly duties.’
‘That’s not true!’ she whispered.
‘The facts speak for themselves.’ His eyes glittered and he added, ‘It’s ironic that when I rang you earlier, it was at Gemma’s own request.’
Ellen’s spine stiffened. ‘Gemma?’ she repeated in amazement. ‘About what?’
The metallic glint in his eyes frightened her. She saw his intention to turn the knife and she braced herself for what he was about to say or do.
Luc smiled faintly, but it was a dark and bitter smile which sent shivers up her back. ‘She wanted to stay with you.’
Ellen’s mouth opened and closed in amazement. Then she cottoned on to his game. ‘You’re lying,’ she said coldly. ‘That’s impossible! Last time—’
He cut her off with a gesture of his hand, pushed back his chair and stood up abruptly, as if he didn’t want to remember that occasion. ‘I know what happened. You upset her. I never did find out the cause.’ His face twisted.
‘Then it doesn’t make sense—’
‘I know that!’ he said testily. ‘I am as puzzled as you. But she did beg to be with you.’
‘Beg?’
‘Believe it or not, I don’t intend trying to convince you, since you don’t want her—’
She didn’t hear the rest. The breath had deserted her lungs, leaving her gasping for oxygen. With grey eyes growing wider and wider, she stared uncomprehendingly at Luc, her lips parting in bewilderment as she struggled for understanding, for air, for speech.
‘You’re not…kidding?’ she burst out breathlessly, her eyes starry with hope. ‘She…she wanted to stay with me?’
She felt her blood rushing through her like hot oil, pushing up her pulse-rate. A hard, choking lump came to her throat and she swallowed convulsively.
The dark eyes were full of scorn. ‘Forget it,’ he said in dismissal. ‘You’ve made your decision to write her off. I can’t say I’m not sorry. I don’t think your life-style adapts very well to part-time motherhood, do you? I’d hate Gemma to interfere with your social activities,’ he finished with a scathing glance, obviously intending to leave.
Frantically Ellen jumped up and planted herself in front of him. ‘Wait a minute!’ she cried jerkily.
It was unbelievable. A turning point. After all that had happened, Gemma wanted her!
Somehow she sucked in air, frantically trampling on her joy. He mustn’t know what this meant to her. If he did, he’d pull the plug. He’d like nothing better.
‘I can’t waste any more time.’ A small frown pulled his dark brows together. ‘I must make other arrangements for her urgently—’
‘No.’ Her hand detained him. He looked at it pointedly and she let it drop in embarrassment. But she had to put her pride, if not her emotions, on the line. This could be a breakthrough in her relationship with Gemma. ‘Please sit down,’ she said in breathless excitement. ‘I have to explain!’
With a show of irritation, Luc looked at his watch. ‘Make it short,’ he said grumpily, and perched on the edge of his chair with a show of reluctance.
Ellen gathered her scattered thoughts, knowing how important the next few minutes would be. She’d have an uphill task in persuading Luc that she was reliable enough to look after Gemma. But everything depended on her doing so. Taking a huge breath, she began.
‘First, Cyril—the man you spoke to on the phone—is my landlord, not my lover. I live in a block of flats,’ she said as calmly as she could. ‘That’s why he answers the phone. It’s a communal one.’
‘Really.’ Luc eyed her steadily, without emotion. ‘If this is true, why didn’t you tell me at the time?’
Ellen bit her lip. Good question. ‘You were the one who jumped to conclusions and flung accusations at me,’ she reminded him. ‘I had no reason to explain anything. You annoyed me. If you want to know, I didn’t bother to disillusion you because I didn’t care what you thought. And because, to be honest, I took a perverse pleasure in knowing you hated the thought of me having fun,’ she finished ashamedly.
‘Petty.’
‘Yes. It was,’ she admitted, willing to eat humble pie if that helped.
‘And this…landlord’s…heavy breathing?’ Luc drawled.
‘He’s unfit,’ she explained, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. He wasn’t buying it. And she had to convince him! ‘He wheezes because activity makes him short of breath.’
‘Yeah.’
She bit her lip, remembering Cyril’s remark. ‘When you heard him complaining about the calls I get from men—’
‘Oh, yes. Double-glazing salesmen, are they?’ he suggested, looking down his nose at her.
‘No,’ she answered, stifling her impatience. ‘People— OK, men— I meet at work, parties—friends of friends at the local pub, that kind of thing—’
‘You don’t have to detail your busy love life for me,’ Luc said coldly.
‘I wish I didn’t,’ she cried in frustration, ‘but it seems you’ve formed the impression that I’m promiscuous—or at the least that I have a string of boyfriends. I want you to know that I’m not and I don’t. I meet them, they call, I turn them down.’
He looked sceptical. ‘And the snow is freezing in hell.’
‘It’s true!’ she cried, getting desperate. He might as well know the whole story. Bang went her pride, then. ‘I’ve been ill for a long time, Luc, and I haven’t been fit enough to make any relationships with men, even if I’d wanted to! I lead a very boring and proper life. I’m only just getting on my feet and carving a future for myself—’
‘So that’s why Gemma is becoming a hindrance,’ he commented.
‘No,’ she answered gently. Without her knowing it, her face and voice, her whole demeanour, softened with tenderness. ‘She’d never be that.’
‘You have changed your attitude rather suddenly, haven’t you?’
Abandoning caution, she leaned forwards eagerly. This was an opportunity she mustn’t miss. Gemma had asked for her. She could risk showing Gemma how much she was loved. Fixing him with her wide, dove-gentle gaze, she leaned across the table, gazing at him pleadingly.
‘Please, Luc, try to understand. I decided to stop seeing her because I thought she hated it here and I wanted to spare her distress. This seemed the time to do it. But I swear I did nothing to upset her last time. In fact, she was in a state when she arrived. Now the situation has changed. She’s asked to be with me and I’m happy to have her if that’s what she wants,’ she finished confidently.
There was a strange light in his dark eyes. For a long while he contemplated her, as if trying to come to a decision, a frown creasing his forehead, his lips parted over perfect pearly teeth. Ellen’s eyes were glued to his as she waited breathlessly for his judgement, afraid that she’d handed him a powerful weapon by revealing that she would like to see her daughter. Had she gone too far—or not far enough?
‘I don’t know,’ he said slowly.
She bit back her annoyance, acknowledging that perhaps she’d be doubtful if she were in his position. ‘Try me,’ she urged, trying to sound as normal as possible. Her eyes sparkled, brilliant with optimism. He liked to please his daughter. He couldn�
�t refuse, could he? ‘You can ring Gemma every hour, if you like, to check that she’s all right,’ she said recklessly, ‘and to make sure I’m not knocking back double whiskies in an opium den.’ Encouraged by the small quirk of his mouth, she said persuasively, ‘She’ll have a great time, I promise. Give me this chance.’
To her surprise, he reached out and tentatively touched her face. ‘We were spectacularly wrong for each other, weren’t we?’ he mused, almost as if he wanted to convince himself of that fact. Ellen swallowed, feeling suddenly light-headed, as if she had indeed been knocking back neat whiskies. ‘I suppose we were too young when we ran away to get married,’ he continued, holding her startled gaze with his. ‘We thought we could conquer the world. And it conquered us.’
He was right. ‘The arrogance of youth,’ she said, a little tremulously. ‘We were nuts to imagine that the rich, indulged daughter of a wealthy man could slip easily into life with—’
‘A lorry driver without a penny to his name.’
‘Yes,’ she said with a forced laugh. ‘Madness!’
‘Sex,’ he murmured, ‘makes sane people behave recklessly.’
It was making her feel dizzy and ready to do something rash right now—like place her hands either side of his smooth jaw and kiss that wildly desirable mouth. She felt appalled. Whatever had happened to drive them apart, there was still a fatal chemistry pulling them back together, even now with all the heartache they’d caused one another.
Ellen resisted it with all her might, but she wanted his touch. Wanted that soft, warm and alarmingly near mouth to cover hers…
‘Luc—’
He started at her involuntary hoarse whisper and sat back sharply in his seat, as if she presented a danger to his sanity.
‘We destroyed each other,’ he said harshly, his eyes black slits between the long, fringing lashes. ‘We have to admit that our needs and values were vastly different. We made the mistake of thinking that being good in bed together equated with love. It was nothing but lust. The biological urge can be very powerful.’
