Love Entwined (6 page)

He clicked on the file. In the foreground there appeared to be a figure so close it was blurred, stepping out of the surveillance camera’s frame of reference.

“That is the only shot of the bastard we have,” Dylan said. “Managed to avoid the other cameras.”

“The Garamondes,” Roman said through clenched teeth. “They knew that warehouse contained the new equipment.”

“We have no proof, but I have to agree with you, considering their obsession with the plant. We’ve added another team to the night crew; that should do it. It is going to cost a small fortune to replace that equipment.”

“Whatever it takes,” Roman said. “Let the Garamondes think they’ve won for now. They will soon see that they can’t stop us.”

After a long discussion on a revised schedule for the plant’s opening, Dylan began his interrogation, which was swift and direct.

“Who is she?”

“Beg pardon?” Roman hedged.

“James told me all about your guest, so you might as well give it up.”

“I know how to deal with him; I’ll lock the wine cellars. A few days without his spirits should keep his trap shut. You are never one to be left out of the loop, are you?”

“You haven’t answered my question,” his cousin said.

He sighed. “Dylan, this is business, nothing more.”

“How did you two meet?”

“I know where you’re going with this. All I need is some perverse matchmaking relation lurking about these drafty halls. You’ll scare her away with your twenty questions.” He wasn’t ready to reveal the fraud he’d uncovered. He wanted Amelie to himself a little while longer. “You stay away from here until I tell you otherwise.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Amelie wavered in the doorway and turned to leave.

“She sounds lovely,” Dylan said.

He ignored Dylan’s comment. “Please come in, Amelie. This is just…nothing, really.” Amelie fingered his grandfather’s set of Spanish rapiers on the wall. “We’ll talk later, Dylan.” He hung up.

Amelie turned toward the sound of a thumping tail and walked over to Khan, hand extended. The Great Dane rose from in front of the fireplace and padded over to her. Khan had to lower his head to nuzzle her hand.

“This is Khan.” He came around the desk. “I think he likes you.”

She rubbed the dog’s sleek coat, scratching behind his ears. “Hello Khan. He is gorgeous.” The way her accent rolled the word “gorgeous” started the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

“He is a good boy.” He pointed toward the fireplace. “Sit.”

Khan padded back over to the rug and lay with his head between his paws with his eyes on Amelie.

She walked over to the desk and looked through the bay window. Beyond the garden was his mother’s hothouse, its glass walls misted gray in the cold. “It must be very lovely in the spring.”

“My mother spent most of her time in that hothouse. She loved her roses. It’s Anne’s personal mission now.”

“You lost your mother at an early age didn’t you?”

“Fifteen.” He said no more and leaned against the desk behind her with his arms folded, admiring the way the green knit skirt molded to her sweet little bottom. “I love it when you wear your hair down like this.” He touched a long red-gold lock trailing down her back.

She turned abruptly. “My room faces this garden. It is a room fit for a princess. In the family wing. Why?”

“Considering you are the only house guest, I think you would be rather lonely in the guest wing.”

“Where is that?”

“The South wing.” He nodded slowly at her expression. “Yes, that’s right, the dark abyss on the other side of Haddon Hall with approximately fifty deserted rooms.”

“Roman, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about this. I am sorry, but the other night was a mistake.”

“Amelie…”

“It should never have happened.” She played with the drape’s tassel.

Remembering the feel of her rounded bottom in his hands while she writhed against him, he couldn’t stop the slow smile spreading over his face. “I have to disagree with you there.”

“I’m here to work on the collection, nothing else,” she continued.

“Do you know what I think?”

She folded her arms. “What?”

“I think you think too much.”

She shook her head. “I suppose I should be more like you. Doing anything I want with whomever I want…wherever I want?”

“I knew you’d come around once I got you out of that sterile office of yours.”

She shoved past him, stopping only when she reached Khan’s rug.

“Amelie, I am trying to tell you it is all right to enjoy yourself. And if I’m not mistaken, you did enjoy yourself.”

He came to stand next to her and held out his hand. “Truce?”

She knelt to pet Khan, who lifted his head for her touch.

Roman grinned, waiting, aroused by her stubbornness.

Finally, she put her hand in his, and he helped her up.

“I think it’s time for that tour.”

She walked past him to the door.

They had not finished touring the first floor and Amelie wondered if she would be able to find her way back to her suite. There was a door leading to a sitting room, which had two entrances. The first door would lead to another room and the next door would lead to an alcove, a staircase or a corridor.

“I thought places like this had site maps, the kind that read ‘You Are Here’.”

He showed her several intercom locations.

“Well, no site maps, but at least I can call for help if I get lost.”

They walked through a large stone-walled kitchen with its own hearth. Beyond the kitchen, there was a gym and an Olympic-sized indoor swimming pool. Underwater lights lit the room, reflecting on the tiled walls.

“I added this some years ago,” Roman said. “I competed at university. Would you like to swim later?”

“I’d love to. I haven’t swum since university.”

He held the door open for her. “Well, then, I think you are long overdue.”

Although Roman wore an inscrutable expression, his eyes told her swimming was the farthest thing from his mind.

But he would have no idea how many things she had not done since university, at least not very often.

* * * *

Later that night, Amelie passed through the kitchen on her way to the pool.

James and Anne must have already retired. She hadn’t seen Caroline since the maid had come to her room after dinner with the bathing suit and sarong. The other staff had gone home for the evening hours ago.

She went through the gym, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirrored walls. She was a mermaid in the incandescent green two-piece with a diaphanous sarong. She loved it and would have bought it for herself except that it probably cost as much as one of her business suits. Work attire and jewelry were the only things she could see spending that kind of money on.

Roman had guessed her size. The man was an expert; he knew how to make a woman feel beautiful.

That was dangerous.

Her every want was answered. She now had a variety of bubble baths and lotions in her room. During the house tour, she had admired a Lalique crystal vase. Its twin now sat on the table by the balcony doors in her room, filled with white roses of York.

She was no match for his subtle prowess and he was too well versed in things she had not played at long enough to know her own capabilities.

When she opened the door, he was already in the pool swimming laps. She stood near one of the benches lining the walls. The underwater lights bathed the room in a bluish-green glow and illuminated his retreat. His strokes were long and powerful, breaking the silence and echoing in the cavernous room.

He swam toward her and she took off her flip-flops. She was the wallflower while he was…Godlike, more than a man should be. He climbed out of the water and stood in a puddle, pushing dark, wet curls out of his face. Her eyes followed the rivulets running down his chest over sculpted abs and finally over his feet. Everything about him was oversize.

He walked toward her in black swim trunks and her skin burned crimson as reality confirmed what her dreams had already conveyed; the man was superbly endowed.

“I see you found your way down.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist, and managed to stop just short of turning back the way she’d come. “I was watching you swim,” she said unnecessarily.

He grabbed a towel hanging on a hook. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you for the swimsuit.”

“I should be thanking you.”

She stood mute, but unfolded her arms.

He gestured to the shower in the corner. “Why don’t you get wet? It will help you get accustomed to the water.”

Aware he was watching her while he dried off; she twisted the end of the wrap in her fingers.

He picked up a bottle of water and sat down, leaning against the tiled wall. He took a long drink before saying, “Of course you could always swim in it.”

“Of course not.” She took off the wrap and crossed over to the steady stream of water.

Closing her eyes, she blocked his eyes out of her mind, but still felt them as she turned in a slow circle under the stream sluicing her breasts. She felt his eyes as the water traveled down her waist, glancing off her hips in droplets that danced in puddles over her feet.

When she turned off the water, she felt much calmer.

He held out a bottle. “Water?”

“No, thank you. Do you want to get back in?”

“Your wish is my command, Beauty.”

He kept pace with her underwater. In a steady rhythm, he glided next to her. He needn’t have worried; she was a good swimmer.

They reached the other side and she started back the other way with the butterfly stroke.

They swam together and met at the deep end, holding on to the side and facing each other.

She waved her legs in the water, feeling so much better after exercising away her nervous energy. “This is nice.”

“Where did that come from?”

“What?”

“That genuine smile on your face. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen that before.”

She made a face.

He grinned. “There is nothing like a few laps in the pool before bed. It helps clear my head.” He followed her line of vision to a beach ball floating nearby.

Grinning, she swam off in that direction. She held the ball up over her head and took aim.

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Shaking one waterlogged lock of hair out of her face, she asked innocently, “And why is that?” She treaded further away, still brandishing her weapon.

“I might have to come after you.” He hadn’t finished his sentence before she threw the missile. It was close, but she missed. She looked around for something else to throw.

“Nothing but pool water left, Beauty.”

She treaded away. “It didn’t hit you.”

“Ah, but that was your intention, and now you will pay the price.” He dove underwater.

She squeaked and started swimming in earnest to the other side of the pool. By the time she saw him swimming underneath her it was too late. He rose up out of the water and grabbed her around the waist. She tried to get away, but weakened by laughter she stopped struggling and leaned against him.

He took her to the side of the pool and they caught their breath as their legs wove together. The gentle lapping of the water against their bodies broke the silence.

“Give me a few days’ practice and I’ll be chasing you.” She laughed up into his face, looking forward to it.

Roman wasn’t laughing. He moved closer and his lips brushed hers.

Feeling relaxed and exhilarated, she didn’t stop him, but parted her lips. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, rolling it over hers in long, lazy strokes. She slid gently into bliss as he deepened the kiss.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and her nipples hardened against the hair on his chest.

When he cupped her buttocks and moved against her, a languid moan escaped her lips. Her eyes flew open.

“It’s all right, Amelie. We both want this. Don’t be afraid of me.”

She shook her head. “I’m not…”

He leaned his forehead against hers, and sighed.

She closed her eyes. “It is foolish to deny it. I am afraid of you.”

He nipped her lips and she looked into his eyes. “You will just have to buck up.”

“I don’t believe in getting involved with people I work with.”

He shook his head. “That is ridiculous. We are both adults. You can get involved with anyone you want.”

“No. I can’t. I’m sorry.” She tried to pull away but he held her.

“No, love, no regrets,” he lifted her chin. “I am just feeling a little more adventurous than you are right now. Come, it’s getting late.”

Roman got out of the pool and helped her out. His hands rested on her hips and they stood inches apart, dripping wet.

He did not bother to mask the hunger in his eyes and in that moment, several things were clear to her. He was a starving man waiting for her to yield her flesh. It was only a matter of time; he would have his way. And finally, raw desire would get the better of her; she would succumb, and with pleasure.

She looked away.

He lifted one hand to caress her face, which seemed a small gesture of comfort to soften the reality of the inevitable, and then led her away.

* * * *

In the drafting room the next day, Amelie shook her head at the memory of yet another close encounter with Roman. It would not happen again.

Up to this point, her life had been one of self-control. Her discipline was legendary, but lately, she could not muster it up. She was the girl who always made plans, knew exactly what she wanted to do, and just how she was going to do it.

But Roman was another animal altogether.

She could not control this thing between them. She was floundering, anchorless on a turbulent sea of passion. What would she do alone with him for the next few months in the wilds of Yorkshire? Right now, she would do anything with him.

It had been a close call. Though he harbored an ulterior motive, her ultimate surrender, she was aware of some endearing qualities in him. He could have had her at the pool last night, for she would not have stopped him, and he had not taken advantage of her weakness. Though he had the look of a ravening beast, he did not go any further than she wanted him to.