The Undoing of de Luca (12 page)

‘Time to rinse,’ he murmured, and Ellery arched back so the water wouldn’t get in her eyes, her head still cradled in Larenz’s hands. She was achingly conscious of how intimate an experience this was, how it filled every sense with longing. ‘Ellery…’ On his lips her name was no more than a raw plea and Ellery’s eyes flew open, stunned and gratified to know that he felt it, too, to see the flame of need turning Larenz’s eyes to blazing sapphire.

Her lips parted but she couldn’t think of a thing to say except, ‘Kiss me.’

Larenz obeyed, leaning down to claim her lips with his own and Ellery’s hands came up of their own accord, fisting the collar of his shirt, careless of how soaked he became.

The kiss went on endlessly, and yet it still wasn’t enough. When Ellery felt Larenz lift his mouth from her own, she must have made some protest for he murmured, a sleepy laugh in his voice, ‘I don’t want to drown you.’

Easily, he scooped her up and carried her out of the bathroom, just as he’d carried her downstairs at the Manor. Ellery, wet and naked, curled into him; she’d never felt so safe, so cherished as she did in Larenz’s arms.

Except, perhaps, for when he lay her down on the bed and gazed at her not with hunger, but with wonder. Something shifted inside her then; she felt her soul opening in a way it never had before, even when her body had yielded to his. Yet she didn’t dare question just what it was she felt; the physical need was too great. And it had to be enough.

She reached up and twined her arms around his shoulders, bringing him to her, needing him near her, skin upon skin.

‘Too many clothes,’ she mumbled and, laughing, Larenz pushed away briefly to remove his clothes; his shirt was damp in patches from where he’d held her.

Then, as he returned to her and she felt the beauty and bliss of his skin on hers, their bodies aligned perfectly, no more objections—or even thoughts—came to mind.

Afterwards, they lay in the room, now nearly dark, their limbs in a satisfying tangle, when Larenz glanced at the clock and murmured, ‘If we don’t get moving, we’re going to miss our dinner reservation.’

Larenz swung his legs over the side of the bed and was now striding through the room, magnificently naked. Ellery watched as he threw open the doors of the wardrobe and reached for a crisp white shirt. She saw her own clothes had been hung up there as well, no doubt by the same maid who had cleared their dishes.

As Larenz began to dress, Ellery was strangely moved by the intimacy of the scene; they’d just risen from bed and were now dressing. It felt like something a couple would do, even a married couple, and the realization that they really were just two strangers made Ellery feel disconcerted, even disappointed, as if what they’d just shared was sordid rather than sweet. She pushed such thoughts away and rose from the bed.

‘I’ll just go dry my hair,’ she said and, without turning around, Larenz nodded.

By the time she’d returned to the bedroom, Larenz had gone into the living room, although Ellery could still smell a faint citrusy whiff of his cologne. She dressed quickly, grimacing slightly at the rather plain black dress she’d brought. It was a classic, if rather inexpensive, LBD, which was why she’d bought it, but she’d realized afterwards that the cut was too severe and black made her look rather washed out. Sighing, Ellery pulled her hair into a chignon of sorts, not as tight a bun as she normally would have but still a severe hairstyle. She grimaced again. She looked like a disapproving housekeeper. At least her shoes were pretty: a pair of sparkly black open-toed stilettos she’d bought only a few weeks ago. She’d travelled to Ipswich to run errands and had seen them in a shop window. It had been an impulse buy and surely a ridiculous one, for she didn’t usually wear heels and had no call to don a pair while living at Maddock Manor. Besides, they’d pinched her toes even in the changing room. Still, gazing in the mirror, she focused on her feet and decided any pain was worth it. They were fun, frivolous and entirely unlike her, but she loved them. And they gave her the courage to walk out of the room and into this strange—and amazing—new world.

Taking a deep breath, she headed out into the living room. Larenz turned around as soon as she entered, although Ellery had hardly made a sound. He looked magnificent in a beautifully tailored suit of grey silk and his gaze swept over her, taking in the plain unflattering dress, the severe hairstyle and ending at her feet. He smiled.

‘Nice shoes.’

Ellery grinned. She couldn’t help it. It was the best thing he could have said—the kindest and the most honest—and she gave a little laugh as Larenz’s glinting gaze met hers and he smiled back.

‘Shall we?’ He held out his arm and Ellery took it.

‘Yes.’

The restaurant was as opulent and luxurious as Ellery had suspected, yet on Larenz’s arm the insecurities over her own attire faded to nothing. She was smugly conscious of the covetous looks a few women shot her, as well as a few curious and assessing glances by the men.

She felt like a movie star.

‘The usual, Signor de Luca?’ a waiter murmured, and Larenz gave a brief nod. Within minutes—seconds, even—the waiter had returned with a bottle of Krug and two delicate crystal flutes.

‘I’ve never had so much champagne,’ Ellery confessed after the waiter had left and Larenz raised his glass in a silent toast. She followed suit.

‘I must admit, I am partial to it, especially when travelling. At home, of course, I drink only the best.’

‘Which is?’ Ellery asked, taking a sip of her champagne. The bubbles fizzed crisply on her tongue.

‘Italian wine, of course. One of my interests is in supporting local vineyards. Drink up.’

Ellery took another sip; she had a feeling that on a rather empty stomach the alcohol would go right to her head. Still, it relaxed her and surely that could not be a bad thing. All around her she heard the clink of crystal and the murmur of conversation. She glanced down at the menu, taking in the decadent offerings: caviar, truffles, filet mignon.

‘So many choices,’ she murmured, and Larenz glanced at her.

‘Surely you’ve been to restaurants such as this before,’ he said almost sharply. Ellery glanced up, surprised by his tone.

‘Not really,’ she said. She paused, wondering how much to reveal. How much she wanted to reveal. ‘There wasn’t much money growing up,’ she finally said. ‘The house is really the only thing of value we ever owned.’

‘And the Rolls,’ Larenz reminded her gently. He was looking at her with a shrewd compassion that seemed far too perceptive, too understanding, when Ellery reminded herself he didn’t know anything about her. Not really. ‘Tell me about him.’

The menu slid from her fingers. ‘Who?’

‘Your father.’

She shook her head too quickly. ‘There’s nothing really to tell.’

Larenz arched one eyebrow in blatant, if kindly, scepticism. ‘There is always something to tell.’

The waiter had returned with a basket of flaky rolls and Ellery avoided Larenz’s knowing gaze by devoting herself to selecting one. Yet, when the waiter had gone, the silence remained, and Ellery just shredded her roll onto her plate while Larenz waited.

‘He was one of those people,’ she finally said, her throat suddenly tight, ‘who was larger than life. Charismatic, you know? Everyone loved him. He was everyone’s friend, from the gardener to the greatest lord.’ She looked up, smiled. ‘My mother said she fell for his charm.’ She stopped there because she didn’t really want to talk about how her mother had realized that that was all she’d fallen for, how her father had deceived and destroyed them both, how hard it was to forgive, how even now she couldn’t let anyone close. She found she just wanted to remember the good things.

‘How did he die?’ Larenz asked quietly.

‘Cancer. It was very quick, just three months from diagnosis to—’ She stopped again, shrugging.

‘I’m sorry. It is hard to lose a parent.’

‘You’ve lost one?’ Ellery asked, for he spoke as though from experience.

Larenz paused, and Ellery knew he didn’t want to tell her about himself, his family. God knew, she had her own secrets. Would it really surprise her that Larenz had some, as well? Yet she couldn’t suppress a little wave of sorrowful longing that he didn’t want to tell them to her, which was silly since she had not told him the whole truth either.

‘My father,’ he said at last. ‘But I was not close to him. In fact, we were…estranged.’

‘Estranged? Why?’

Larenz shrugged and took a sip of champagne. ‘Why do these things happen? I could not say. It is only after—when it is too late—that you wonder if perhaps you should have been a bit more forgiving.’

They both lapsed into silence; Ellery found herself taking Larenz’s words to heart. Should she have been more forgiving of her father? She’d only learned of his deceit upon his death, yet the truth had brought up so many painful memories, recollections of the times he’d disappeared, the birthdays he’d missed, the promises broken, the endless rounds of hope and disappointment, and all the while he’d been—

No. She wouldn’t think of it. She didn’t want the past to spoil the present, this one golden week. Ellery glanced down at her bread plate; her poor roll was no more than a pile of shredded crumbs. She pushed it to the side. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘no use being gloomy. What do you suggest I order?’

‘I’m partial to the wild sea bass,’ Larenz replied, picking up his own menu and glancing at it, ‘but the Angus fillet is very nice, as well.’

‘I’ll stick with steak,’ Ellery decided. ‘I’m afraid I’m not the most adventurous eater.’

‘There are different ways to be adventurous,’ Larenz murmured as he set his own menu aside. ‘Coming with me for a week was certainly in the spirit of adventure.’

Ellery’s cheeks warmed. ‘Foolish, perhaps,’ she said, and Larenz’s eyes narrowed.

‘Ellery, why do you say that? Do you regret your decision?’

She lifted her chin. ‘No, of course not.’ She smiled, keeping her tone light. ‘But the house is going to go to rack and ruin in the week I’m away. I’d been planning to replaster the front hall this week, you know. I’d even gone out and bought the proper tools.’

‘Very impressive,’ Larenz murmured. His eyes danced. ‘However, I have no doubt this week will be far more entertaining.’

Ellery pursed her lips thoughtfully. ‘Well, I don’t know. I was really looking forward to it, you know.’

Larenz laughed aloud, which made Ellery grin. He reached over and squeezed her hand. ‘I love it when you smile. A real smile. You look far too sad sometimes.’

‘I feel far too sad sometimes,’ Ellery admitted quietly. The waiter came to take their orders before either of them could say anything more and she was glad. She’d said too much already.

‘What made your mother decide to sell Maddock Manor?’ Larenz asked eventually, his tone one of casual curiosity.

Ellery arched her eyebrows. ‘You’ve seen the place, haven’t you?’

He gave a small smile. ‘Still, it’s your ancestral home. Hard for her to let go of, I would think.’

‘I suppose my mother had had enough,’ Ellery said after a moment. ‘She didn’t have too many happy memories there.’

‘You didn’t have a happy childhood?’

Ellery shrugged. She didn’t want to explain the endless cycle of disappointments, how her father’s sudden, prolonged absences had affected her. ‘Happy enough. But their marriage—’ she took a breath ‘—went downhill after a while.’ She took another breath, let it buoy her courage and met Larenz’s gaze directly. ‘That’s why this suits me perfectly, Larenz. After seeing my parents’ marriage fall apart, I’m not interested in relationships.’

Larenz didn’t say anything for a moment, just watched her thoughtfully. ‘Good,’ he finally said and took a sip of champagne. He still gazed at her from over the rim of his glass. ‘Because neither am I.’

‘Good.’ Ellery reached for her own glass. She felt wound up inside, everything held together so tightly, so tensely, and she couldn’t explain why. Or why she felt just the tiniest bit disappointed. Hadn’t they just cleared the air? Weren’t they in agreement?

‘You’re an only child,’ Larenz said after a moment. ‘Aren’t you? I haven’t heard you mention any brothers or sisters. So I assume the line will die out with you?’

Ellery felt the tension twang inside her, ready to snap. Why was he asking
that
? ‘Yes,’ she said quietly, too quietly, ‘I’m my parents’ only child.’ The silence ticked on for several seconds before Ellery forced herself to look at Larenz. He was studying her with a rather brooding expression, his brows drawn darkly together.

‘Enough about me,’ she said as lightly as she could, ‘and my concerns. What about you? You said you were from Spoleto. Were you happy there?’

Larenz shrugged. ‘I left Spoleto when I was five or six years old. I’m actually a city boy. My mother raised me in Naples, near her family.’

‘And your father?’

Larenz paused, his expression turning obdurate. ‘He wasn’t in the picture,’ he said flatly.

Ellery nodded, accepting, even though she wanted to ask about the sorrow his scowl seemed to be hiding, and why he didn’t like the kind of probing questions he’d asked her any better than she did. She wanted to know more about Larenz, to understand him, yet she was also realistic enough to know that wasn’t what this week was about. They were enjoying each other; that was all.

As the silence stretched between them, it suddenly seemed very little.

Ellery caught sight of the waiter heading towards them with two silver chafing dishes. She smiled at Larenz, throwing off the pall of gloomy remembrance that had briefly enshrouded them both. ‘It looks like our starters have arrived,’ she said lightly, ‘and I for one am starving.’

They kept the conversation light for the rest of the meal, chatting about inconsequential matters, and yet even so Ellery felt as if neither of them had escaped the hold of the memories their earlier talk had stirred up. Certainly Larenz seemed a bit more preoccupied than usual, his expression sometimes distant and even dark.

By the time the dessert had been cleared and they both had refused coffees, Ellery was glad for the evening to be over. They headed back up to the suite in silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts.