‘As for the ring, yes, it means a lot to me. It belonged to my mother. It was her engagement ring.’
Struggling upright, shock came into his eyes. ‘Ellie–’
‘Don’t say another word.’ Turning her back on him she headed for the door, hoping he hadn’t noticed the tears choking her voice. ‘I deserved everything you dished out. I was a fool to imagine ... ’ A sob nearly strangled her as she closed the door on her words and whispered, ‘... that you were capable of loving me in return.
Unless she could manufacture an instant case of measles Ellie knew she’d have to eventually emerge from her room.
‘Not a chance.’ She gave her reflection an appraising glance. ‘You haven’t even got a freckle or two to boast about.’
She’d discovered a dozen reasons for staying in her room rather than face Patrick. Her nails needed a manicure, her chest of drawers tidying. The beds were messy enough to warrant a meticulous making and re-making, and now looked uncomfortably neat. She’d arranged her hair several times, and had tried on different outfits before settling on ribbed woolen ski pants and a thigh-length sweater in the same flaming red as her nail polish.
‘Your tongue’s hanging out for a cup of tea,’ she reminded herself now she’d run out of excuses. ‘Besides which, you’re wearing your battle colour. A Ram in red is a force to be reckoned with. That Scorpion male had better watch out.’
Sucking in a deep breath she marched towards the kitchen; an image of Patrick as an insect being crushed underfoot occupying her mind. It was almost an anti-climax to discover the kitchen empty except for the cat.
Damn - she’d psyched herself up for nothing since he wasn’t even out of bed! He must have spent the night tossing and turning, as she had.
A smile stretched her lips as she plotted the scene - Patrick wracked with guilt over the way he’d treated her. He’d fall on his knees and beg her forgiveness, tell her his passion had turned him into a raging beast. He adored her, would spend the rest of his life making it up to her if only she’d become his wife. She in her turn would laugh in his face, spurn him.
The notion of revenge was replaced by a more pressing need and she reached for the kettle. Her revenge could wait until
after
her cup of tea and
after
he’d admitted the error of his ways. Dream on Ellie, she thought, her flight of fancy coming to an abrupt end. That could take several decades.
It wasn’t until she’d seated herself at he table that she saw the diamond ring and the six tiny silk-covered buttons. Her face suffused with color as her body taunted her with the fact she’d been
his
love-slave, not the other way round. A folded piece of paper addressed in thick black upright letters was propped against the sugar bowl.
Eloise.
The writing resembled saber-slashes. It was almost alive with power, ready to rise from the page and cut her into pieces. The avenging angel strikes again! She managed a wry grin. The devil himself would quake in his boots at the thought of meeting Patrick.
Her hand shook as she cautiously flipped the note open, and she cursed her vivid imagination. What was she expecting, sparks - a curl of smoke? It was disappointingly domestic. All it contained was a terse message to say he’d gone to inspect the creek, would start on the kitchen after lunch, and the electricity was now back to normal.
She picked up the ring and examined the brilliant stone for signs of damage before sliding it back on her finger. There was none. It was still as flawless as the day it had been placed on her mother’s finger.
Her father’s marriage proposal had been made over a candle-lit dinner. Her mother had been wearing a white chiffon dress and had flowers in her hair. She’d been twenty years old, her father thirty. When her father had described the scene he’d smiled. ‘She knew I’d be lonely without her so she gave me a very special gift in you when she left.’
The ring had been a token of her father’s undying love. He’d never married again, and if there had been women in his life Ellie had never known about them. Tears pricked her eyes. Tearing the ring from her finger she hurried to her bedroom and placed it carefully in its faded green velvet box. She now felt unworthy of the sentiment attached to it.
For a few seconds she gazed out of the window before the fact registered that the rain had stopped. Not only that, the sun was shining and the birds singing. No it wasn’t a chorus of birds, it was the telephone ringing.
The telephone!
Coming out of her reverie she headed for the kitchen at a run. Thing were looking up.
‘It was her house mate. Things were
definitely
looking up. ‘Is everything all right, Anne? Why aren’t you in the shop? Are you sick?’
‘I
am
at the shop.’ Anne laughed. ‘And yes, everything is fine. I’ve been trying to get through to see if
you
were okay. I heard about the storm on the radio. I was worried about you being on your own. You left your phone on your dressing table.’
‘Yes, I know.’ Even though Patrick was out Ellie lowered her voice. ‘In actual fact I’m not alone. The house was being painted when the creek flooded and–’
‘Don’t tell me you got stranded with that blonde hunk you had your eye on? Of all the luck.’
‘Not exactly ... I got stranded with his brother.’
‘What’s he like?’
‘All right I suppose.’ Her reluctance to discuss Patrick with her friend surprised Ellie. The calm gentle Anne was usually the first person she turned to for advice. ‘He has his son with him. Todd’s four, he’s a darling.’
Anne laughed again. ‘Well at least you’ve found a child to dote on. You really should have one of your own, Ellie. If you ask me it’s a pity that boyfriend of yours didn’t let his heart rule his head now and again.’
‘I’m glad he didn’t.’ Ellie shuddered. ‘When I have children I want them to grow up with two parents.’
‘
You
didn’t do too badly brought up by one,’ Anne pointed out.
‘I had the security of knowing my parents loved each other.’ She sighed. ‘Even so there were times when I desperately wished I had a mother to talk to. Still do as a matter of fact.’
The hair prickled on the back of her neck as she caught a movement in the corner of her eye. She turned to see Patrick at the door. Her heart gave a giant leap as his eyes caught hers. Such was his impact that the breath left her body in one big rush, leaving her weak and dizzy. She took in a gulp of air to replace her depleted supply. ‘I’ve got to go now, Anne.’
‘You sound odd, Ellie. Is something wrong?’
How could his eyes be so shuttered? What thoughts were hidden in their midnight depths? Patrick’s eyes could be as soft as velvet or as hard and bright as sapphire. Now they were so guarded that all his thoughts and feelings were locked inside.
‘Ellie?’
‘Yes, everything’s fine, Anne,’ she heard herself say, her eyes still locked with Patrick’s.
She wished she could get inside his head. Did he feel anything about what had happened between them? Regret? Guilt perhaps? Did he think her cheap? Was he plotting his next move?
Heat throbbed through her. Whatever she’d said about there not being a next time was meaningless when her juices boiled in her body at the very sight of him. The air was so charged between them she ached with the tension.
‘Thanks for ringing, Anne. I’ll call you in a day or so.’
Her voice was an actor, delivering perfectly banal lines in a perfectly normal voice.
Never let the opposition think they’ve got the upper hand.
Her father’s advice.
‘Good morning, Patch.’
Smile
, she ordered her lips.
The corner of his mouth twitched slightly in return, his eyes remained guarded. ‘I didn’t think you’d be inclined to speak to me this morning.’
‘Didn’t you?’ Her shrug was as offhand as she could make it, her eyes as guarded as his. She’d been dreading this moment. Now it was here she wasn’t going to let him off easy. ‘Why did you think that?’
‘Don’t try and back me into a corner, Ellie. You know damned well why.’
She could almost admire his deviousness. Patrick was trying to convince himself there was no emotion involved in what had happened. Did he really believe it had been nothing more than sexual gratification between two consenting adults - that it could be dismissed and forgotten about? Think again, Patch Morgan. Being brought up by a man taught me a lot about the male ego. Try this for size.
‘I’m adult enough to admit your inventive style of love-making was entirely satisfying.’ She gave a mocking grin as his eyes flew open. ‘What’s the matter, Patch? Have I shocked you by telling you what an accomplished lover you are?’
‘It was unexpected.’ A pulse leapt to life in his throat has his glance carefully swept her face. ‘But you’re not exactly conventional, are you?’
‘Define conventional for me.’
‘You know exactly what I mean.’ His voice was becoming exasperated. ‘You don’t fit the conventional female image. You can’t cook, are outspoken, offbeat, argumentative. Since when did women repair the plumbing or admit they enjoyed ...’
‘Kinky sex?’ She laughed. ‘All women have fantasies. Be honest, Patrick. Would you rather I lied about it?’
‘I could probably handle it better,’ he said dryly. The grin appeared on his face. ‘If you want honesty, I’ll admit to the concept being a turn-on.’
‘Don’t get
too
turned on,’ she said hastily. If he took her words literally she could be in serious trouble. ‘I
meant
what I said last night.’
‘That it won’t happen again?’ His eyes narrowed a fraction as two steps closed the gap between them. The bruise around his eye had faded, she noticed, trying to ignore the mental images the aroma of his after-shave evoked. The deep clear blue of his eyes were accentuated by incredibly long dark lashes. The amusement in them was almost unbearable. ‘Unfortunately, my sexy little witch, you seem to have unleashed the beast in me.’
‘Control it.’ Trembling from the close proximity, her voice was a barely audible whisper.
His admission was a compliment of sorts. This was a man who’d been celibate for some time, who’d had no intention of getting involved with a woman. Ellie shivered as he gently blew a strand of hair away from her face. Nature itself seemed to have aided and abetted his downfall.
His lips slid against her cheeks like a whisper of silk. Why had she allowed herself to fall in love with him, to make herself available? Now he wanted to possess her, to use her body to quiet the beast she’d unleashed.
She seemed to have no willpower. Her lips were already parting eagerly to capture his mouth, his teasing tongue, her breasts tilting against his rough muscular chest like ripened berries. An ache of longing grabbed like a thief at the spot he’d plundered, leaving her moist.
‘Tell me your fantasies, Eloise,’ he murmured against her lips. ‘Tonight I’ll try and satisfy them all.’
He was playing with her, sure of himself - of her. Hadn’t she been through all this before, with David? Only Patrick was being more honest with his intentions. He wanted her body, nothing more.
And if she didn’t put a stop to it he’d get it - right here in the kitchen!
Placing her mouth against his ear she murmured the one word that would stop his advances. She was pushed to arms length. The amusement in his eyes was followed in quick succession by wariness, disbelief, then utter shock. The fact that she’d predicted his reaction in advance brought no comfort. The grin she gave mocked them both, and aided in his recovery if the ironic smile he gave was anything to go by.
* * * *
‘I had a little therapeutic sex in mind, not marriage.’ The warm imprints of his hands began to cool as arms dropped to his side. ‘Besides ... didn’t your aunt predict a Libran?’
So why had she fallen for a Scorpio? And why had Aunt Vera wanted them to meet? Ellie tried not to smile as the answer came into her mind.
She’d been getting ready to go to work when the postman had delivered the star chart and she hadn’t taken the time to read it properly. Her smile became a reality when she gazed at Patrick. He was bound to figure in the prediction somewhere, she felt it in her bones.
‘I wouldn’t have thought you the type of man to take my aunt’s profession seriously.’
A shout from the garden drew his eyes to the window. ‘I didn’t until three years ago.’ His lips curved in a smile. ‘I was given reason to change my mind.’
‘Something to do with Todd?’ she guessed.
The hesitation in his expression made her want to scream
trust me!
The expression was replaced by a frown. ‘I really see no point of discussing it with you.’
‘Sometimes it helps to talk,’ Her hand touched his arm as he turned to leave. ‘I’m not exactly a stranger.’
‘On the contrary, Eloise.’ The sarcasm was pulled on like a defensive second skin. ‘I would describe our relationship as
intimate,
but not the kind of intimacy to encourage confidence.’ Abruptly he withdrew his arm from her touch. ‘Let’s leave it that way.’
I should be feeling crushed and humiliated,’
Ellie thought, gazing at the door he’d closed so firmly behind him.
So why do I just feel sad?
Was it because he’d been hurt so badly by a woman he could no longer love or trust another one? Jealous anger attacked with such ferocity that she wanted to scream with the pain it brought her.
That woman had been given everything worth having, and had destroyed it. There was nothing left in Patrick to salvage. Patrick couldn’t even bear being touched when they’d made love. They hadn’t actually
made love
in the true sense. It had been a release for his anger. A call girl would have serve the purpose just as well.
Ellie took a deep breath and suffocated the flood of destructive self-recrimination that poured into her mind. She replaced it with a more positive thought. She was the first woman Patrick had been attracted to since his disastrous relationship. He’d been unable to resist his need for her, was unable to deny it. However hard he tried to convince himself to the contrary, something in Patrick was beginning to give. That was something she could work on.