Kate Hewitt - The Undoing of de Luca

Ellery shrugged. ‘I don’t think so. They changed sides a dozen times or more.’ She reached for two heavy china mugs and poured coffee. ‘The Dunants aren’t particularly known for being faithful.’ Too late she heard the spite and bitterness in her voice and closed her eyes, hoping Larenz hadn’t heard it, too. Yet, even without turning around, she knew he had; he was far too perceptive for his own good—or hers.

‘Here.’ She placed a mug of coffee in front of him on the table and then walked around to her own seat, all the way on the other end of the table. It looked a little ridiculous for them to be sitting so far apart but Ellery didn’t care. She wasn’t about to give Larenz any excuse to touch her.

Even if you want him to…

Ellery just barely kept from closing her eyes again. It was a good thing Larenz de Luca wasn’t capable of mind reading—except when she looked at him and saw that faint knowing smile on his face she felt as if he was.

‘Thank you,’ he murmured and took a sip of coffee. Ellery began to eat her eggs with grim determination. She didn’t want to talk to Larenz, didn’t want him to flirt or tease or tempt her. Yet, even as these thoughts flitted through her mind and her eggs turned rubbery and tasteless in her mouth, Ellery knew she was already tempted. Badly. She thought of how Larenz’s flutter of fingers on her wrist, skin sliding on skin, had jolted her, an electric current wired directly to her soul.

Except, Ellery thought as she speared a mushroom, souls had nothing to do with it; the temptation she felt for Larenz de Luca was purely, utterly physical. It had to be, for he was exactly the kind of man she despised. The kind of man her father had been.

She glanced up from her breakfast to look at Larenz, to drink him in, for he really was the most amazingly beautiful man. Her gaze lingered on the straight line of his nose, the slashes of his dark brows, those full moulded lips—she imagined those lips touching her, even somewhere seemingly innocuous, like where his fingers had been, on her wrist—and she nearly shuddered aloud.

‘Is something wrong?’ Larenz asked. He lifted his mug to take a sip of coffee and his eyes danced over its rim.

‘What do you mean?’ Ellery asked sharply. She returned her fork to her plate with a clatter. She’d been caught staring, of course, and she pulled her lip between her teeth, nipping hard, at the realization.

Larenz lowered his mug. His eyes still danced. ‘It’s just you looked a bit—pained.’

‘Pained?’ Ellery repeated. She rose abruptly from the table and grabbed her plate, moving to scrape the remains of her mostly uneaten breakfast into the bin. ‘I’m afraid I have rather a lot on my mind,’ she explained tartly. Too much on her mind to be thinking about Larenz the way she had. Too many worries to add temptation to the mix, especially when she knew he could only be amusing himself with her. The thought stung.

‘Breakfast was delicious, thank you,’ Larenz said. He’d moved to the sink, where Ellery watched in surprise as he rinsed his plate and mug and placed them in the dishwasher.

‘Thank you,’ she half mumbled, touched by his little thoughtfulness. ‘You don’t have to clean up—’

‘Amazingly, I am capable of putting a few dishes away,’ Larenz said with a wry smile that reached right into Ellery and twisted her heart. Or maybe something else. She turned away again, busying herself with the mindless tasks of wiping the table down and turning off the coffeemaker. From the corner of her eye, she saw Larenz lean one shoulder against the door, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. ‘So it looks to be a beautiful day out. How about you show me the grounds and we can discuss this business proposition?’

Ellery jerked around, the dripping dishcloth still in her hand. She’d completely forgotten about his business proposition—what kind of proposal could he possibly have?

‘I’m really rather busy—’ she began and Larenz just smiled.

‘I promise you, it’ll be worth your while.’ He reached out almost lazily and took the dishcloth from her hand, tossing it easily into the sink where it landed with a wet thud. ‘An hour of your time, no more. Surely you can spare that?’

Ellery hesitated. Larenz stood there, relaxed and waiting, a faint smile curving those amazing lips, and suddenly she had no more excuses. She didn’t even want to have any more excuses. She wanted, for once, an hour to enjoy herself. To enjoy temptation instead of resist it. To see what might happen, even if it was dangerous. An hour couldn’t hurt, surely? That was all she’d give Larenz—or herself.

She let her breath out slowly. ‘All right. But we ought to wear wellies.’ She glanced pointedly at his leather loafers. ‘It rained last night and it’s quite muddy out.’

‘I’m afraid,’ Larenz murmured, ‘I didn’t bring any—wellies—with me.’

Ellery pursed her lips. She could just imagine the kind of clothes in the case Larenz had brought inside last night, and it didn’t run to rubber boots. ‘It’s a good job that we have plenty for guests,’ she returned, and Larenz quirked one eyebrow in question.

‘We?’

‘I mean I,’ Ellery clarified, flushing. ‘The boots are from when I was growing up—when we had house guests.’ Her throat suddenly felt tight. She tried not to think of those days, when she was little and Maddock Manor had been full of people and laughter, the rooms gleaming and smelling of fresh flowers and beeswax polish and everything had been happy.

Had seemed happy, she mentally corrected, and went to the utility room to fetch a pair of boots she thought might be in Larenz’s size.

Larenz followed Ellery out of the kitchen door to the walled garden adjacent to the Manor. He took in the remnants of a summer garden, now bedraggled and mostly dead, the grass no more than muddy patches. He wondered if the parsnips for last night’s soup had come from here. He imagined Ellery harvesting the garden by herself, a lonely, laborious task, and something unexpected pulled at his heart.

He felt a single stab of pity, which was most unlike him. He’d worked too hard for too long pulling himself up from the gutter to feel sorry for an aristocrat who’d fallen on hard times, no doubt in part due to her family’s extravagant living.

Yet, as he watched Ellery stride ahead of him, the boots enveloping her slender legs, her back stiff and straight, he realized he did feel a surprising twist of compassion for her.

She would be horrified if she knew. Ellery Dunant, Larenz thought with amusement, possessed a rather touching amount of pride. She seemed to love this heap of hers about as much as she disliked him, and was, he knew, most reluctant to spend time with him. She resented the attraction she felt for him, that much was obvious, but Larenz did not think she could resist its tug for long.

He certainly had no desire to. He wanted to release that platinum fall of hair from its sorry scraped little bun; he wanted to trail his fingers along her creamy skin and see if it was as soft as it looked—everywhere. He wanted to transform the disdain that pinched her face to a desire that would soften it. And he would. He always got what he wanted.

‘Did you plant a garden this summer?’ Larenz asked, nudging a row of withered runner beans. Ellery turned around, her hands deep in the pockets of her waxed jacket.

‘Yes—a small one.’ She glanced around the garden, remembering the vision she’d once had, the rows of hollyhocks, the cornucopia of vegetables, the neat little herb garden. She’d managed only a few potatoes and parsnips, things that were easy to grow, for she’d learned rather quickly that she did not have much of a green thumb. ‘It’s difficult to manage on my own,’ she explained stiffly. ‘But one day—’ She stopped, letting the thought fall to the ground, unnourished. One day what? Every day she stayed at Maddock Manor, Ellery was conscious of how futile her plans really were. She would never get ahead on her own, never have enough money to make the necessary repairs, much less the renovations, never be able to see Maddock Manor restored to the glory it had once known. She tried to avoid these damning realizations, and for the most part she did, simply living day by day. It was Larenz de Luca, with his knowing smile and pointed questions, who reminded her of the futility of her life here.