No wonder she had sought comfort from the one man who had always been there for her and never let her down.
‘You must love them very much,’ he said finally.
He saw the flicker of emotion in her grey eyes.
‘They’re not perfect.’ She smiled weakly. ‘But they’re my family, Laszlo, and I love them. I trust them too.’
‘More than you trusted me?’
His question caught her off guard and she swallowed hard. She was so tired—more than tired...she was drained. Meeting his gaze, she saw from the tension around his eyes that her answer mattered to him. It would be easier to placate him; quicker to give him some glib answer that would end this row, so she could crawl off and lick her wounds. But she was done with lying to him. No matter what the consequences, she wanted to confront the past—the whole of the past. Not keep holding back or editing out the most painful parts.
Finally, she nodded.
The gold of his eyes began to flicker with outrage.
‘What did you want me to say?’ she said, annoyed by his reaction. ‘Haven’t you learned anything from the past? Our marriage might be over but I want—’ She stopped. Her voice had turned husky with emotion but she didn’t care. ‘I need to be honest with you. And I’d like to think you want that too. So the answer is yes, Laszlo. I trusted them more than I trusted you. Or myself.’
His mouth set in a grim line, Laszlo stared at her for a long moment.
‘I want to be honest with you as well,’ he said quietly. ‘You were right to have doubts about me. Right not to trust me.’
She stared at him dazedly. ‘Wh—what do you mean?’ she stammered. She felt almost physically sick at the expression of guilt and remorse on his face.
He watched her in silence, a muscle working in his jaw. ‘I was holding back. Holding back the truth about my grandfather. And you sensed that and that’s why you didn’t trust me. Add that to all my comings and goings, and I’d say you had a very strong case for ending our relationship.’
He sucked in a breath.
‘In fact, I’m surprised you stayed with me for so long.’ His face tightened and then slowly, his hand shaking slightly, he reached out and stroked her cheek. ‘I’ve not always been a kind person, pireni. Or a fair one.’
He let out the breath.
‘When you broke up with me I blamed your uncle. And then I blamed you.’ He gave a small, tight smile. ‘And then I blamed both of you.’ He sighed. ‘But I can’t blame anyone but myself for what happened. All I did was fuel your doubts and then get angry that you doubted me,’ he said quietly. ‘Too angry to look deeper.’
He opened his mouth to say something else and then stopped.
Prudence felt her spine stiffen, her hurt somehow tempered by the inevitability of the familiar way his face closed over. Had she really expected Laszlo to open up to her? Surely she knew him well enough to know that he would always have secrets to keep.
Frowning, Laszlo glanced away from the tears gleaming in her eyes. He didn’t want to hurt her. She had been so open, so brave. But there was so much he couldn’t explain.
‘I’m sorry about everything,’ he said slowly, ‘but I’m glad we had this conversation.’ There was a moment of uneven silence, and then his face creased and he added softly, ‘And I’m glad you’re here.’
He saw the pull of his words on her face and then his chest tightened as he watched a tear trickle down her face.
‘Don’t cry!’ Impulsively Laszlo reached out and brushed his fingers gently over her cheek. Their eyes locked and then he sighed again. ‘We certainly didn’t make it easy for ourselves, did we, pireni? I just assumed that our marriage would somehow magically work, and you were convinced it would fail!’
He tilted her face to his and cupped her chin in his hand.
‘We didn’t get everything wrong, though, did we? I mean, most couples would kill to have the sort of chemistry we share.’
She knew he didn’t really mean his words to be taken seriously, but something about his remark depressed her. It was the truth, probably, she thought miserably. For Laszlo, any discussion about their relationship would always lead back to that one thing.
Glancing down at her, Laszlo frowned again. He knew he’d hurt her, and he wanted more than anything to pull her into his arms, but much as he desired her he suddenly didn’t want to use sex to blot out emotion.
‘Look, don’t worry about the cataloguing.’ He paused and took a breath. ‘I’m going to ring your uncle later and talk it all through with him. You don’t think he’ll recognise my voice, do you?’
Prudence hesitated a moment, her grey eyes searching his face. She knew he was trying to make amends and it was novel at least to have Laszlo be the one to make a peace offering. Shaking her head, she gave him a weak smile. He grinned at her and his obvious relief that he had made her smile made her heart wobble.
‘Good. I don’t want him charging over here to rescue you.’ He paused. ‘You don’t want to be rescued, do you?’
Prudence shivered. Of course she didn’t—but it might have been better if she had. Her feelings were becoming more and more confused, and harder and harder to contain.
She shook her head. ‘No. I don’t want to be rescued.’
His face flushed and she felt her pulse start to quicken, for he looked heartbreakingly like his younger self.
‘I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour,’ he said slowly. ‘I won’t say or do anything annoying.’
She laughed softly. ‘Let’s not tempt fate!’
Looking down at her, Laszlo smiled crookedly. ‘How reassuringly superstitious of you,’ he said softly. ‘My sweet Romany wife.’
She gazed at him, hypnotised by the soft darkness of his eyes and the even softer darkness of his voice. And then her heart twisted inside, for Laszlo’s words were not a promise for the future but a simple statement of fact.
Trying to ignore the tangle of emotions her thoughts provoked, she glanced at one of the clocks—surely sense demanded she should leave before she said something she’d regret?
‘I should go and find your grandfather, but he usually has a nap about now.’ She bit her lip. ‘I don’t know what to do...’
Laszlo frowned. ‘Maybe I can help with that.’
Sliding his fingers through her hair, Laszlo pulled her towards him, his expression thoughtful.
‘Let’s see...’ Turning her hand over, he stroked the centre of her palm and then, lifting her hand, slowly ran his tongue along the lifeline until she squirmed against him. ‘Hmm...’ he murmured softly. ‘Your skin’s so smooth it’s difficult to read the future. But...’
His gleaming golden gaze rested on her face, making her feel hot and tingly all over.
‘I can see that there’s a tall, dark, handsome man in your life.’
Prudence wriggled free and shook her head, trying not to laugh. ‘Really? I wouldn’t say Jakob is tall.’
He grinned at her. ‘The man I’m talking about is definitely not a lawyer. He’s just as smart, but he’s witty and cool and sexy...’
He laughed softly as, heart pounding, she tugged her hand away. ‘And bordering on the delusional?’ she said quickly.
She wanted him so much. And when he held her close like this, his body so warm and hard against hers, everything inside her seemed to unravel and fly apart.
Hoping fervently that her feelings weren’t showing on her face, she took a deep breath and lifted her chin. ‘Or maybe you just need your eyes tested?’
He smiled—a long, curling smile that whipped at her senses.
‘Quite probably. No doubt my eyes have been damaged by years of living in this gloomy castle.’ He pressed his body against hers. ‘Maybe I should keep you where I can see you,’ he murmured possessively.
And then his hand tightened in her hair and, dropping a fierce kiss onto her lips, he pulled her into his arms.
CHAPTER EIGHT
FROM THE WINDOW of his bedroom Laszlo stared out at
the cloudless blue sky and scowled. Rising early, he had gone for a walk before breakfast in the fields that surrounded the estate. Usually he enjoyed the silence and the crisp, early air—but not today. For once he had found it hard to take pleasure in the peace and beauty. Instead his thoughts had been dogged by scenes from last night. And now yesterday’s conversation with Prudence was playing on repeat inside his head, so that rather than slip back into bed beside her, he’d returned to the castle.
His chest grew tight. Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, he closed the window. But there was no way he could shut out the unpalatable truth. He had treated her badly. And a weaker person—the person he’d so arrogantly assumed Prudence to be—would have been crushed.
Only she hadn’t been crushed. And she hadn’t given up either. In spite of her youth and inexperience, and in the face of his evident and repeated reluctance to talk about anything, she had still tried to make it work. His mouth tightened. And it was still the same story now. When fate had thrown them together he had used his power and position to punish her, but even then she hadn’t walked away. She’d just climbed over the wall and refused to leave.
He suddenly grinned. He loved it that she was so bloody-minded. And beautiful. And brave. She was everything he’d wanted in a wife. And then his smile faded. Why was he using words like wife and love? He didn’t love Prudence, and soon she wouldn’t even be his wife. In fact, soon she wouldn’t even be in the country. With a growl of frustration he clenched his hands. Everything seemed to have backfired. Letting Prudence back into his life and into his bed seemed to be having quite the opposite effect to the one he’d imagined.
For a start, sleeping with Prudence didn’t actually seem to be killing his desire for her. If anything he wanted her more. In fact, he couldn’t imagine a time when he wouldn’t roll over in bed to find her lying next to him.
Worse, the anger he had felt when he’d found her in his study seemed to have faded to be replaced by a sort of nervous anticipation. He gritted his teeth. If he hadn’t known better, he might have said that he had some sort of feelings for her.
A muscle flickered along his jaw. Only of course that would be ridiculous. His ‘feelings’ were just a trick of the senses. As Prudence had so rightly pointed out yesterday, the only time they ever felt comfortable being open and honest with one another was during sex, and no doubt his emotions were just the after-effects of intimacy. Add to that his guilt at having treated her so shabbily and it was no wonder he was feeling confused.
He let out a breath, pleased to have found a rational explanation for his discomfort. Glancing out of the window, he could just see the roof of the vardo and, whistling softly, he turned towards the door.
* * *
Sifting through the papers in his lap, Janos gave a small cry of triumph and beamed at Prudence.
‘I’ve found it. Finally. That is a relief!’ Glancing up, he looked at the grandfather clock in the corner of the sitting room and frowned. ‘I can’t imagine where Laszlo is.’ He shook his head. ‘Sometimes I think he’s less house-trained than Besnik. At least Besnik remembers mealtimes.’
Closing her laptop, a blush creeping over her cheeks, Prudence said shyly, ‘Actually, he told me he’s going to be a little delayed.’
Her blush deepened. She was still reeling from the unfamiliar experience of Laszlo earnestly telling her that he was going to be late.
Studiously avoiding Janos’s eyes, she added, ‘I think there was some problem over at the top field.’
Janos gave her a searching look. ‘I see.’ There was a pause, while Prudence gazed in concentration at the lid of her laptop, and then he said slowly, ‘I think I might need to speak to your uncle later.’
Prudence looked up at him. ‘Wh—why?’ she stammered. ‘Is there a problem?’
Janos shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘Don’t look so worried, my dear. I’m just wondering whether I can persuade him to let you stay for ever! First you manage to single-handedly organise forty years of paperwork concerning my collection, and now—far more impressively—you’ve trained my grandson to apprise you of his movements.’
Prudence drank a mouthful of coffee, finding it suddenly difficult to swallow. ‘I don’t think that’s all down to me,’ she said, blushing again.
Janos laughed. ‘It’s certainly not down to me! But don’t worry. You won’t have to stay in this draughty old castle for ever. I know you must be missing your family.’
She smiled. ‘I did miss them at first. But you’ve made me feel so welcome. And I love the castle,’ she said simply. ‘It’s such a perfect setting for all your beautiful things.’ Biting her lip, she paused. ‘Actually, it really reminds me of one of my favourite places—the Soane’s Museum in London. Sir John Soane used to live there, with all these incredible works of art and sculptures and clocks—just like you do there. It’s an amazing place.’
She shook her head slowly.
‘Edmund says I treat it like church: I always go there if I have something to celebrate or if I feel sad—’ She broke off in astonishment as the clocks throughout the castle began to strike the hour. ‘Is that the time? Perhaps I’d better just run down and tell Rosa that Laszlo is—’
‘Laszlo is what?’
Dressed casually in jeans and a faded grey sweatshirt, Laszlo strolled into the room, Besnik following at his heels. Reaching his grandfather’s armchair, he bent down and kissed Janos gently on the head, then turned to Prudence, his gleaming gaze making her stomach flip over.
They shared a brief burning silence and then he said, almost conversationally, ‘That I’m starving? Or that I’m on time? Hard to say which would give her greater pleasure!’
Dropping onto a sofa, he sat back and his eyes drifted over her lips. Her breath stuck in her throat.
‘How are you today, Prudence? Are you hungry too?’
His voice was teasing and warm, and she felt a corresponding heat across her skin. She glanced nervously over to Janos, for she was always worried that he would sense the tension between her and Laszlo. But she saw with relief that he had returned to sifting through his paperwork. She still disliked having to lie to him, but it was not for much longer. And then she would be back in England and she would have to lie only to herself.
She felt a jolt of misery. Don’t go there, she told herself, sitting up straighter. This was only ever going to be temporary. Nothing has changed.
She took a deep breath. Only it had. She hadn’t meant it to change, but it had. Like a tsunami warning, a cool voice inside her head kept urging her to get away from the strike zone. But she couldn’t. Her only option was to stay detached. It was only sex, after all.
She shivered. But what was going on inside her heart had nothing to do with sex. Her lower lip quivered as miserably she realised that Laszlo had been right all along. A piece of paper meant nothing. For in her heart she would always be married to Laszlo.
Shifting in her seat, she tried to steady her nerves. It’s all in your imagination, she told herself angrily. But it wasn’t. She loved him, and all she really wanted to do was forget everything that had happened between them and start again.
Looking up, her eyes collided with the stinging intensity of his gaze and she felt a spasm of pain—a pain that she knew no amount of distance in time or place would ever lessen. She might be in love with him, but he had simply and expediently reduced their relationship to the physical.
Heart pounding, fighting her misery, she looked away and said hastily, ‘I’ll just go and tell Rosa you’re here.’
‘Not necessary,’ Laszlo said softly. ‘I told her on my way up. Oh, and Jakob rang to say he’d be over this evening.’
He sat back, letting his long legs sprawl negligently in front of him, but despite his relaxed pose Prudence could almost see the restless energy coming off him in waves.
For a moment the room was silent, and then Janos looked across at his grandson thoughtfully. ‘Incredible. You’re on
time and you remembered to give me a message!’
Laszlo shrugged. His face was neutral, but his feet were tapping out a rhythm on the carpet. ‘Just keeping you on your toes, Papi.’
Janos studied his grandson benignly. ‘There’s nothing wrong with my toes. You, on the other hand, are about to wear a hole in one of my favourite rugs. Did Jakob say what time he’d be over?’
Frowning, Laszlo pretended to think. ‘He did. Now, what did he say...? Oh, yes. About eight.’ He grinned at his grandfather. ‘Oh, ye of little faith!’
Shaking his head, Janos laughed. ‘I’m impressed, but still a little shocked.’
‘I don’t see what the fuss is all about,’ Laszlo grumbled. He turned to Prudence, a curve of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. ‘What do you think, Prudence? Can’t a leopard change his spots?’
Conscious of Janos’s presence, she bit her tongue—but the desire to tease overwhelmed her. ‘I’m not sure. Is that how you see yourself? As a leopard?’
She paused, mesmerised by the hunger burning in his golden eyes and the rough shadow of dark stubble grazing his jaw.
‘You’re more like a wolf really,’ she murmured, her blood slowing in her veins at the intensity of his gaze. ‘A tamed wolf that’ll come inside the house but only if the door is left open.’
Their eyes locked and she felt a shiver of quicksilver run down her spine. Suddenly her heart was pounding, and the only sound was the rain falling on the window and the strained intake of their breath.
And then Janos cleared his throat. ‘I believe the word you’re looking for is liminal,’ he said mildly. ‘It means to occupy a space on both sides of a boundary—or in this case threshold.’
For a moment Prudence stared at him blankly, all thoughts, all words gone. And then, colour burning her cheeks, she straightened up abruptly and the spell was broken.
‘Liminal... I must remember that,’ she said weakly, finding speech at last.
Janos nodded. ‘I believe architects often refer to hallways as “liminal” spaces.’
Prudence shifted in her chair, uncomfortably aware that she’d been too consumed with longing to hide her emotions. But if Janos was aware of her feelings he was hiding it well, for he merely smiled and returned to reading his papers.
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