Dirty Aristocrat

Home > Other > Dirty Aristocrat > Page 5
Dirty Aristocrat Page 5

by Georgia Le Carre


  ‘I’m so sorry for your loss, my dear,’ she said without introducing herself.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, feeling buzzed and hoping it didn’t show.

  ‘He was such a good man.’

  ‘Such a good man?’ I echoed.

  To my horror a mad giggle escaped my lips. I covered my mouth. The woman’s eyes grew huge with speculation. There was no way to explain that if she thought that he was such a good man she couldn’t possibly have known him. He was a ruthless man. He told me so himself. A man has to decide whether he wants good friends or he wants to be rich. He cannot have both. I chose to be rich.

  ‘Can I have a word?’ a steely voice on my right asked.

  I turned gratefully towards Ivan. His eyes were no longer molten silver but ice cold.

  ‘Of course,’ I said coolly.

  The nameless woman excused herself and left.

  ‘Don’t make my job more difficult than it needs to be,’ he grated.

  Anger flashed through me. Fuck him. How dare he judge me? Still, I did not let him see my irritation. I twirled the stem of the crystal flute between my fingers and looked up at him with cold disdain. ‘Do you really think I would encourage my stepson to assault me at my dead husband’s wake?’

  Something shifted in his eyes. He ran his hand through his hair. ‘God,’ he said. For a moment he looked as if he felt that by taking me on he had bitten off more than he could chew.

  ‘Why did you have the reading of the will in that way? You must have known Rosalind would react badly. Did it please you to see her attack me?’

  His jaw tightened. ‘Don’t be stupid. I needed to see all their reactions.’

  ‘And now that you know, what help is it to you?’

  ‘Time will tell,’ he said mysteriously.

  ‘Anyway, thank you for coming to my rescue just now.’

  At that moment the woman he had come with slinked over and touched his arm. He stiffened, all expression leaching away from his eyes. Slowly, he moved his eyes away from me and looked down at her.

  ‘Have you met Tawny?’ he asked.

  She raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow at the mention of my name and deliberately allowed her eyes to fill with condescending amusement. ‘Ah, your stepmother? No, I haven’t.’

  Ivan seemed to wince when she referred to me as his stepmother. ‘Tawny, meet Chloe Somerset. Chloe, Tawny.’

  ‘How do you do?’ she said in an offhand way.

  ‘Good. Thank you for coming,’ I said in an equally careless voice.

  ‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,’ she said throatily and turned towards Ivan, her expression becoming playful. ‘Darling, we need to be getting back. I have an early start tomorrow.’

  Ivan frowned. ‘I can’t leave just yet. Why don’t you let Paul drive you back?’

  Chloe pouted at him. ‘How long will you be? You know how … restless I get when I’m in your bed.’

  His voice was hard and impatient. ‘Then perhaps you should go back to yours?’

  I cut in. ‘Look, you can go. I’m going upstairs soon, anyway. James will see the party out.’

  ‘We need to talk,’ he said sharply.

  I nodded. ‘Yes, I know.’

  ‘I’m busy all day tomorrow. Are you free for dinner?’

  Chloe took a quick intake of breath.

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘Good. I’ll pick you up at eight then.’

  ‘It might be better if we just have dinner here,’ I said quickly. I could not imagine anything more awkward than going out to dinner with him. Here at least I would be on my own turf.

  ‘See you at eight,’ he said and, turning away from me, left the wake. It gave a small jolt of secret pleasure to see Chloe run to keep up with his striding figure.

  CHAPTER 8

  Tawny Maxwell

  I was in the Yellow Room having a dry Martini when James announced Ivan’s arrival.

  My stomach contracted at the sight of him. He was like a force of nature. Even the air in the room changed. His hands hung languidly at his sides, but his entire body emitted the kind of tension of a prowling animal. From where I was I could make out the contours of his muscles under his shirt. Butterflies started fluttering in my belly. Suddenly the night ahead stretched as an uncomfortable, tense affair.

  ‘Hello, Ivan,’ I said nonchalantly from my seat. I had decided that I would be sophisticated and cool.

  ‘Hello, Tawny.’

  ‘Can I get you a drink?’ I asked civilly.

  He turned towards James. ‘I’ll join Mrs. Maxwell in whatever she’s having.’

  ‘Very good, Sir,’ James said, and with a polite bow backed out of the room.

  Ivan strolled towards the sofa next to mine, sat down, spread himself with his knees far apart, and fixed his silvery gaze on me.

  I took a sip of my drink. ‘Good day at the office?’ I asked.

  His eyebrows arched in surprise. He seemed to hesitate. ‘I didn’t go in today.’

  I suddenly thought of Chloe. About how ‘restless’ she had been last night. ‘Ah, the pleasures of being one’s own boss,’ I said. It had been my intention to sound light and sophisticated, but it sounded like sarcasm.

  The silence stretched and I glanced at my hands. I could feel his gaze on me and, as much as I did not want to admit it, I was starting to get really nervous. I felt as if he was studying me, looking right into me. Interminable seconds passed. Finally, I looked up, my eyes defiant.

  ‘What did you do today?’ he asked.

  I didn’t miss the commanding tone in his voice. This was a man used to giving an order and having it obeyed. I looked into my drink. ‘I’m afraid I didn’t do much today,’ I murmured.

  In fact, I had spent my morning in Robert’s room. It had brought me to tears because I walked in there expecting it to look like it always did and I found that the housekeeper had ordered the servants to strip the bed and remove the mattress. It had been taken away to be aired, but seeing the bed in that way shocked me and made his death real in a way that seeing him still and wasted inside the coffin had not.

  I looked up and found him gazing at me expressionlessly. ‘You must get so bored here.’

  I met his look levelly. ‘No.’

  He seemed genuinely surprised and I felt a thrill of joy that I had caught him off guard. ‘So you will carry on living here?’

  ‘For the foreseeable future.’

  He frowned. ‘You don’t plan on moving to London?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not? You are a very rich woman now and London is very exciting when you are rich, beautiful and young.’

  I felt myself blush. He thought I was beautiful. ‘I will go to London when necessary, but I won’t be moving there.’

  ‘Do you go up to London often?’

  ‘Well, I haven’t used the London flat in nearly six months. I didn’t like leaving Robert here on his own so I used to make sure that I finished whatever business I had and returned in time for dinner.’

  James came in with a tray. Ivan thanked him and took his drink.

  He raised it slightly. ‘To you,’ he said softly.

  I looked at him warily.

  ‘Well, what will you do now that Robert’s gone?’

  ‘I’ll do what he wanted me to do.’

  He stared at me with blankly. ‘What was that?’

  ‘For the last three years Robert bought islands with the intention of turning them into turtle sanctuaries.’

  Ivan looked at me from narrowed, openly skeptical eyes. ‘Robert was setting up turtle sanctuaries?’

  I nodded. ‘You seem very surprised.’

  ‘I am,’ he admitted. He leaned forward and the light from the candles seemed to flicker and shimmer in his extraordinary eyes. His eyes became alive and … hauntingly beautiful. I blinked at the amazing transformation. With the shadows thrown under his cheeks he was … suddenly … wickedly hot! So hot that a strange urge from somewhere unknown dared me t
o reach forward and lick those curving, sensuous lips. I stared at him, my mind burning with the thought. He leaned back abruptly. ‘What?’ he asked looking at me suspiciously.

  ‘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 pud
dles 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.

  However, the odd feeling persisted.

  Then my head started to feel light and strange. Concerned, I slid off Dutch and my boots sunk into the snow. I held on to Dutch and tried to understand what was happening to me. The tingling in my hands spread to my arms and culminated in a delicious warm glow all through my body and brain.

  I should have been frightened, but I wasn’t. How could I? It felt incredible. I felt as if I could taste the air. It tasted clean and I could actually feel the oxygen in the air I was breathing. Every little movement and thought made me extremely happy. Everything felt good to touch. Even my clothes against my skin was pleasurable. I rubbed my face against the fur lining on my collar and it felt as if I was not rubbing a strip of dead fur, but the indescribably soft warm fur of a baby chincilla that was alive and curled around my neck.

 

‹ Prev