'I shook my head. 'Nothing. Er … you were saying,' I croaked.
He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. 'I was saying Robert was like a father to me for ten years, but in all the time I knew him he never once showed himself to have an altruistic bone in his body.'
'He didn't want anyone to know.'
'Why?'
'I don't know. It was like his redemption or something. If he had told everyone about it, it might have morphed into something else.'
A thought occurred to him. 'Did you ask him to?'
'No, he once went to Asia and someone took him to watch turtles laying eggs. He saw a giant leatherback turtle heave itself up the beach well past the high tide mark, dig an eighteen-inch hole in the sand, lay about a hundred eggs in it and cover it. To his horror, he then saw the locals not only torment the exhausted creature by shining torchlights at it, kicking sand into its face, picking up its flippers and riding it, they also immediately dug up its nest and stole every single egg from it. He said it hurt him to see her cry. At that time, he didn't know then that her tears were actually a jelly-like mucous that she excreted to keep the sand out of her eyes, so he was much moved by her plight.'
He shook his head in wonder. 'Fancy that. The old boy was moved by a big reptile.'
'Leatherbacks are very beautiful,' I said.
'Well, I'm glad for him that he found something to love in his old age.'
I finished my drink. 'He loved you too,' I said softly.
He frowned and looked as if he was about to speak, but James appeared to announce that dinner was served.
I stood and Ivan held out his hand stiffly. I threaded my hand awkwardly into the crook of his, and together we went into the dining room. The long table had been set for two. For a moment I felt a pang of pain. This was our dining room. Robert's and mine. We used to laugh until tears poured down our cheeks.
I sat quietly while the soup was served.
'Bon appétit,' I said, and carefully slipped my spoon into the creamy leek and potato soup.
'Why did you stop visiting Robert?' I asked.
He picked up his glass of Sancerre and took a sip. 'I spoke to him on the phone.'
'I see.' I paused. 'Did he ever mention anything about Dr. Jensen?'
He didn't raise his eyes from his food. 'No,' he said quietly.
'I just can't understand why he was so mean to him in his will. He always spoke so highly of him.'
'The contents of his will were a surprise to me too.'
It was the weirdest thing. Nothing in his expression had changed, but I knew that he was being deliberately evasive. He knew something that he did not want to share with me. I stared at him until he raised his eyes and looked at me. 'He missed you,' I said softly.
His eyes flashed. 'And you? Do you miss him?'
I put my spoon down and looked him in the eye. 'With all my heart.'
He went quiet. Something powerfully intense simmered and rippled underneath the perfectly calm surface. A heavy, sizzling heat hovered in the air between us. We stared at each other. Then his gaze left my face and swept down to my breasts. My heart jumped in my chest and the tips of my breasts started to tingle and ache.
For his mouth.
Suddenly there were crystal clear images of my mouth on his throat, down that hard chest, and lower still. My tongue trailing, my fingers dragging down a man's tight skin. My lips parted involuntarily and though I did not mean for the small moan of surprise and lust that escaped, it did. I was prepared for everything, but not this. What was this? I didn't go around lusting after men?
Especially not him!
The small sound was as if someone had slapped him, his head jerked upwards, pulling his wandering gaze back up to my face. For a second he continued to look at me as if he wanted to devour me, then he drew a sharp breath, and the sudden crack in his armor was gone. Wiped out. So completely I felt as if I had imagined the entire episode. The classically handsome face tightened once more into a hard mask and his eyes became chips of ice again. Cold. Detached.
'Sorry,' he said not sounding sorry at all, 'but I find this grieving widow act a bit hard to swallow. I don't know what your game is, but quite honestly, I don't give a damn. I'm executor of the trust until you are twenty-one and after that you are on your own, but in the meantime the less contact I have with you the better. Don't call me unless it is absolutely necessary. Please put all your expenses through my office. I'm not Robert. You can't bat your eyelashes and expect me to come running. I don't like chaos. I don't want to be distracted.'
I stared at him open-mouthed with shock. Where on earth did that come from? How could he go from sizzling hot to ice-cold? Then I became furious. How dare he? He was as bad as the other three. I didn't do anything wrong.
'Have I ever asked you to come running? It was you who wanted this meeting today. The arrangement you suggest sounds like a perfect solution to our little problem. I seem to have lost my appetite. Do please excuse me. By all means stay and finish your meal. You are, after all, the executor of my estate.'
I shot up from my seat and would have stalked off in a fit of temper, but his hand shot out and caught my wrist. My anger fled and all that was left was a deep, deep wound. I didn't want to fight with him. I had enough enemies. I didn't need him to be my enemy too. The truth was I was so alone and a little frightened. I stared down at him and tried to control the dam of emotions inside me. As much as I tried I could not stop my eyes from filling with stupid tears. They rolled down my face.
'Oh, for fuck's sake,' he said and, standing up roughly, pulled me against his hard body.
I was so shocked I stopped crying. Inside me strange things started happening. My heart was suddenly beating faster. My fingers curled into the crisp material of his shirt. I looked up at him wide-eyed.
'Oh, shit,' he groaned.
'What is it?' I whispered.
He cleared his throat and, releasing my hand, moved away from me. He ran his fingers through his hair. 'Look, I'm sorry about what I said. I don't know what I was thinking. Of course, you must come to me with all your problems.'
Oh my God. I wanted him to kiss me. I looked at him stunned. I felt confused. At the place we found ourselves.
He pushed his hand through his hair again. 'I really should go. Thanks for the meal and I'm sorry it turned out this way.' Without looking at me he turned and started to stride out of the dining room.
'Ivan,' I called.
His head swiveled back, his face only half-lit.
'About Rosalind and … '
'Legally they don't have a leg to stand on, but stay well away from them. They're poison,' he said harshly.
Suddenly it seemed very important that he left on good terms. 'I plan to. They give me a serious case of the creeps,' I said, and pretended to shudder so exaggeratedly it must have made me look a downright fool.
An involuntary smile slipped onto his lips. 'Right. Call if me you need me,' he said.
'You are my friend, aren't you, Ivan?' I asked. I don't know why I asked. Maybe I just couldn't bear him to leave yet.
'Friend?' He laughed, a hollow sound. 'Yeah, sure I'm your friend. The best fucking friend you have. Goodnight, Tawny.'
CHAPTER 9
Tawny Maxwell
I slept badly and woke up feeling restless and dissatisfied. After a big breakfast of toast, ham, eggs, pancakes smothered in butter and jelly and coffee, I dressed in my riding gear and went outside. There had been more snow during the night, and the top layer was perfect powder. There was a freezing chill in the air, and above me the sky was an uninterrupted clear blue.
Thin frozen puddles by the entrance of the stables crackled under my winter boots. Jack, the groom, had already saddled up my horse, Dutch. Jack's ears were reddened with the cold.
'Thanks, Jack,' I said, looking at Dutch with real pleasure. He was such a beauty, slender limbed and glossy as silk. I could see his breath come up in great puffs in the freezing chill of the air. I took a sugar cube out of my pocket and held it in the palm of my hand. His breath felt lovely and warm and his lips scraped my skin.
'It's cold so don't work him too hard now,' Jack cautioned.
'I won't,' I said, nuzzling my face into Dutch's cold fur and listening to the sugar crunch between his teeth.
'Great. Give us a shout when you get back,' he said.
I climbed onto Dutch, gave him a pat on the neck, and picked up his reins. I shifted my weight and dug my heels into his sides and he took my lead perfectly, and began to trot, his mane bouncing with each stride. In perfect rhythm we went out into the frigid, ice-kissed world.
The leaves and berries in the bushes were bejeweled with frost. No one had disturbed the snow and except for a few fox marks it lay in a pristine layer on the ground. I looked at the beauty around me, breathed in the still silence, and felt pure joy. Dutch too seemed pleased to be out.
We had travelled peacefully for about fifteen minutes when my skin began to tingle. Not from cold. It was an unfamiliar sensation. My hands felt as if they were numb and yet so sensitive I could feel the blood throbbing inside the vessels. I squeezed my hands into fists.