Page 33 of Dangerous Temptation
She pressed her lips together. Funny, but it was sounding more and more like the prison he’d just left, only they were keeping people out rather than locking him in.
He stepped closer to her, and her nerves jumped. She tilted her head back to look at his face.
That muscle was still pulsing in his jaw, but his anger had vaporised. He reached out and brushed back a long curl that had fallen forward over her shoulder. ‘We have to find a way to make this work, you and I, living together in this space.’
He’d barely touched her, but she could feel the hot trail his fingertips left on her collarbone. She nodded. They were from different worlds, two ends of a spectrum, but they had to agree on this. For both their sakes.
Off in the distance, a bell rang.
It was soft, but it reminded Elena they weren’t alone. She took a step back, but he wrapped his arm around her waist. His hand took its increasingly familiar spot on her lower back, and he dipped his head so his words brushed over her bare ear.
‘We might as well start with dinner.’
Chapter Six
Dinner was … unexpected. As on edge as Elena was, the evening turned out to be precisely as advertised. When she relaxed enough to forget herself, the meal was pleasant. With Leonard and Marta hovering nearby, it wasn’t the time or the place for pointed questions or fireworks of any kind. She’d forgotten herself with Alex the other day. She was on guard for any signs of manipulation or innuendo, yet all she could detect were signs of a handsome, well-mannered dinner date.
Marta’s meal of cider-roasted chicken, asparagus, and mushroom risotto also made her forget her nervous stomach. With Alex supplying more white wine, the experience was a delight for Elena’s taste buds. She’d been living on cereal and peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches. She could cook, but she’d been more intent on working. It felt wonderful to sit back and enjoy food that had been prepared by someone who obviously loved her craft.
The fact that the meal was in an idyllic setting didn’t hurt.
She was still amazed at the little breakfast nook that she’d somehow overlooked. The circular room sat out on the balcony, off the kitchen. The open archway had a door with a rounded top that could be closed for privacy. Other doors opened onto the terrace. They were closed against the weather, and the small room took on the feeling of a gazebo, complete with heat and electricity.
They’d used very little of the latter.
A chandelier lit the table, but it had been dialled down to low and candles provided most of the illumination. They were placed in sconces on the walls, and the ambiance brought her back to times of knights, ladies and castles. Times of chivalry and passion. Out on the balcony, she could hear the howl of the wind and the waves hitting the shore. The darkness would have seemed threatening if they hadn’t been nestled in the safety and warmth of the little room.
‘When was this house built?’ she asked. She’d avoided the manor as much as she could, but now that she was being given access to some of its more unique features she was becoming intrigued.
‘In 1892 by Josiah Wolfe.’
‘How many greats before that grandfather?’
One of Alex’s eyebrows rose and the corner of his mouth followed. ‘Too many for me to count, especially with all the wine I’ve drunk.’
The 2008Montrachethad been flowing. It made everything seem to go down more easily.
Everything, and that made Elena a little nervous.
She smoothed the linen napkin over her lap. She knew who he was and she knew what he’d done, yet he could be charming.
Like a beautiful wolf who wanted to be petted.
Warning signs had been flashing in her head, but now they were dim and fading. He was surprising her. She’d expected the conversation to continue in that stilted, uncomfortable manner they seemed to have perfected, but the truce they’d made upstairs was holding. So far, they’d managed to be on their best behaviour. They’d stayed away from sensitive subjects, which were many and varied, and kept mainly to current affairs, apart from his release, which had taken over the airwaves. He seemed hungry for news of the world, or at least someone to discuss it with. He asked for her impressions, how the public had reacted to certain events and why things had turned out in certain ways.
Elena was amazed to find herself just as eager for conversation. He wasn’t the only one who’d been isolated from other people. It had been ages since someone had valued her opinion, and she was interested in more than just the stock market. She was leaning forward to press her point about the Yankees’ playoff hopes when a candle over his shoulder flared, seemingly at her.
The admonition cooled her enthusiasm. This was Alex Wolfe. He wasn’t her friend.
‘Excuse me.’ They both looked up when a shadow was cast across the dinner table.
‘Yes, Leonard?’ Alex asked.
‘May I take your plates, sir?’
Her host looked at her dessert plate. ‘Are you finished?’
Elena set down her fork. The Bailey’s-and-cream cheesecake had been rich and silky. ‘It’s delicious, but I can’t take another bite.’
