Page 55 of Devil In A Suit

Ilie on the bed staring at the ceiling. In shock.

I can still feel the imprint of his touch. I don’t understand what’s going on. We’ve only had sex twice and he’s already managed to get under my skin. Far, far more than I’d like to admit. It’s starting to feel like… God no!

I’m not falling in love with him. No way.

I don’t even want to be thinking about such a thing. That way lies madness.

I get up, feeling restless, and pace the room. Maybe I should go to the office. But I can’t face Dad, his guilt or misplaced anger. But I have to do something or I swear, I will go crazy. I feel like calling him. I feel like hearing his voice, but I know better to call him at work. I can still remember how cold and horrible he was the last time I called him.

But now that I have thought of calling him, I’m itching to pick up the phone and speak to him. I come to an abrupt halt and shut my eyes again. I am just being pathetic and clingy. No man wants a desperate woman. And yet I find myself walking towards my phone, my hand hovers over it.Don’t do it, Lara. But I pickit up and flick it open. My index finger hovers over his number.Don’t do it, Lara. You’ll regret it.

“Damn you, Ivan,” I mutter.

I bite my lip and just as I’m about to press the button, there’s a knock on the door. The breath I was holding comes out in a rush. Saved by the bell, it seems.

I open the door and find Muriel standing outside with a tray in her hand. “I thought you might want some scones hot from the oven and Chef’s raspberry jam,” she says, smiling warmly. “You barely touched breakfast earlier.”

Barely touched breakfast. I ate enough to feed two horses, but her kindness touches me. “Oh… thank you, but you shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble.”

She steps inside and sets the tray down on the coffee table. “It’s no trouble. I know how overwhelming it can be when you’re in a new place.” The fragrance of the freshly baked scones fills the room and the comforting scent is just what I need.

I nod, eternally grateful for the distraction. “You’re very thoughtful. Thank you. Are you responsible for the fairytale garden on the roof?”

Muriel lights up as if the garden itself fills her with life. “I am. It’s one of my passions. I grew up in a squalid council estate in England, but I’ve always loved gardening so when Mr. Ivanovich has been generous enough to give me complete freedom with it, I went for it.”

I arch a brow, genuinely intrigued. “So you’re from England.”

“Yes.”

“Have you known Ivan for a long time?”

Her gaze softens, as if the memories themselves are as fragrant as the flowers she grows so beautifully. “Oh, yes. I’ve been with Mr. Ivanovich for eleven years now. He had just left Russia and was setting up his base in London. I was supposed tobe based in his London apartment, but after a while he began to take me everywhere he went.”

“I see,” I say softly. “So he’s a good employer?”

“He is family. I’d trust him with my life,” she says simply.

“Oh!” I exclaim.

Ivan Ivanovich’s housekeeper regards him as family and trusts him with her life. Wow. I’m quiet, trying to reconcile this side of him with the man I’ve encountered. It feels like peeking behind a curtain, seeing a glimpse of a person I never expected. I thought he was just another powerful man who coasted through life, buying his way through everything. There’s more to him than I thought.

A small pang of envy flows into my body. She’s known him for so long, and she seems to have this unspoken bond with him. It’s effortless and pure, untainted by sex and wanting and resentment. It is something I’ll never have with him.

“I’ve always wanted a garden,” I say, more to change the subject than anything else. “But I’m afraid plants don’t like me too much. I tend to kill even the supposedly hardy houseplants I put on the windowsill.”

Muriel’s eyes brighten. “Well, you’re welcome to learn while you’re here. It’s late summer. I’ll be happy to teach you everything I know.”

I feel a buzz of excitement at the prospect “I’d love that. Can we… sorry if I’m being too forward, but can we start today? Like now…”

She grins and it lights up her whole face. “Of course. But after the scones.”

“Deal.”

She waits while I cut a scone in half, butter it, spread a generous amout of clotted cream and jam on it, then eat it in three mouthfuls. It’s delicious. Then I grab my phone off the bedside table and follow her out of the room, feeling a suddenlightness, like I’m breaking free from the weight that’s been sitting on my chest.

We walk down the grand staircase in silence, the soft patter of our steps echoing in the quiet hallways. The afternoon light filters through the windows, casting warm shadows as we head toward the conservatory, the tension I’ve been carrying since Ivan left eases off.

As soon as we enter the conservatory it’s like walking into another world again. This time, I notice the vines that have been skillfully trained to drape the walls. Sunlight pours through the glass ceiling, bathing the sofa where Ivan took me in a golden glow. I turn my head away quickly.

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