Page 16 of Dimistrios's Bought Mistress
‘My turn next,’ said Lycos. ‘For feeding. After…’ he added purposefully, ‘…that aperitif. What does your sommelier recommend?’ he quizzed.
‘Vin d’hôtes,’came the tart reply. ‘From my neighbour’s vineyard.’
‘Ça suffit bien,’ Lycos murmured, standing aside so she could get into the kitchen. He watched while she extracted two wine glasses and then fetched a bottle of wine from a wooden rack. She took the glasses and handed the bottle to him, along with an ancient, and very primitive, corkscrew.
‘You can watch the sun set over your new domain,’ she said, leaving him to follow her across the hallway, then out on to the terrace.
He heard the sudden choke in her voice. Saw, as he came out on to the terrace, her shoulders hunch as she put the glasses on the ironwork table. He set the bottle and corkscrew down beside the glasses. Lifted his hand to her hunched shoulder.
‘Arielle—’
He said her name, his voice low, felt her flinch beneath his touch. Something moved in him, but he did not know what. Only that it was not what he usually felt about another human being.
Or himself.
She pulled away, reached for the corkscrew, seized the bottle and begun ferociously busying herself with opening it before placing it back on the table.
‘Your aperitif,m’sieu,’ she said. Her chin was lifted. Defying the crack in her defences.
‘Thank you,’ he told her gravely. ‘But you must share it with me. I insist.’
He held her chair for her and, stiffly, she sat down. He took his own place. He reached for the bottle, pouring equal measures into both glasses. The setting sun streamed golden light over the gardens. The cicadas were insistent in their chorus. Lycos watched her shakily lift her glass and he lifted his in unison. He looked across the table at her and held her gaze with his own.
‘To survival, Arielle. Whatever the blows that fall.’ He paused. Kept his gaze steady on her. ‘You will survive them all, if you find the strength to do so.’ He saw the uncertainty in her eyes. The doubt. The fear.
‘Believe me,’ he said. ‘I know.’
Arielle lifted her fork, making a start on thebourguignon.An air of unreality possessed her. It was the strangest meal. Here she was sharing dinner and conversing civilly, if stiffly, with a man whose existence she had been completely unaware of not even twenty-four hours previously. A man who was creating a conflict within her that she could make no sense of. None at all. Because the only thing that made any sense to her, the only thing thundering in her head, was that this complete stranger was taking her beloved home away from her.
Yet he was having an effect on her that she could deplore all she liked, try to ignore all she liked, that had nothing to do with that nightmare. Nothing at all…
She felt her gaze fix on him. His face was lit by the soft light from the table lamp, that she’d switched on as the last of the daylight had faded with the setting sun, throwing his chiselled features into relief and yet somehow reflecting in the dark of his eyes, flecking them with gold. She felt something catch inside her. A tiny, silent gulp. A slight, sudden breathlessness. She wanted to shift her gaze, but couldn’t. It seemed to be stuck. The sense of sudden breathlessness intensified.
With distinct effort she dragged her gaze away, dropping her eyes to her plate, taking another mouthful of food. She became aware that Lycos, having already drained his glass of wine, was reaching for the bottle. He glanced in her direction.
‘This is surprisingly good,’ he said. ‘May I top you up?’
Arielle nodded absently, hoping he hadn’t noticed her gazing at him.
‘Perhaps I should call on your neighbours and introduce myself,’ he said as he lifted his refilled glass to his mouth.
Arielle stared. ‘What for? I’ll tell them what’s happened. I’ll tell them to watch out for realtors descending and an eventual sale.’
‘It would be more civil if I did that,’ he countered, resuming his eating.
She continued to stare at him. ‘Why would you want to be civil? You’ve only turned up here to check out your latest gambling win, which you’ve now done. So tomorrow you can head on to Paris.’
She could hear the tightness in her own voice and she reached for her glass, suddenly wanting the strength that came from wine. In the lamplight she could see a considering look cross Lycos’s face.
‘I might stay another day,’ he said.
Arielle set her glass down with a click on the ironwork table.
‘Why?’ she demanded. She didn’t want him hanging around. She wanted him gone. Gone, gone, gone. So she could mourn in private.
Have this last…this very last, time here.
Anguish clutched at her, and she could not stop it. Dimly, she was aware Lycos was replying.
