Even he had to admit that Ellen wasn’t pig ugly or anything, actually she was quite beautiful and she was pretty good in bed. Well, accommodating, she had never refused him at least. She had high, firm breasts and long slim legs that wrapped themselves satisfyingly about his waist as he made love to her. Made love! That was a laugh; thank God he didn’t have to bother too often. She seemed quite happy with a quick session once or twice a month. He would have preferred her to be lustier and more dominant in bed, like the women he visited while in London, then he may have enjoyed himself a little more, but it was a small price to pay, and not a completely unpleasant one, to get his hands on her inheritance.
He looked towards the bathroom door and wondered if he should go in and have sex with her now, while she was in the shower. He hadn’t liked the way she had spoken to him earlier. Maybe he should do it to her now, just to remind her who was the boss. It would save time later and make a pleasant change from her lying flat on her back. He ran his finger around the inside of his collar, thinking about her wet, slippery body, but then he just couldn’t be bothered. He’d do it to her after dinner when they were getting undressed anyway.
He dropped the plastic clip carelessly back onto the dressing table. It made a surprisingly heavy clunk on the glass surface and he glanced up at the bathroom door in case she had heard. The shower was still running. He walked to the bedroom door and let himself out. He’d go and wait in the bar for her.
Maybe if she had a few glasses of wine, she’d be easier to handle and then perhaps he could try out some more interesting positions with her. He might as well enjoy it if he had got to do it.
Chapter Three
The sun was shining brightly through the bedroom windows. Justin pulled the quilt over his head to shut out the light, not for the first time hating the fact that the French never used curtains.
He could hear Ellen moving about the room, every tiny noise amplified by the pounding in his head. His mouth felt dry, his chest and stomach ached from the amount of times he’d vomited during the night.
“Can’t you be quiet, Ellen. I’ve got a terrible hangover.” He groaned weakly from under the covers.
All movements stopped in the bedroom and he pulled the quilt back to squint blearily into the sunshine. Ellen was standing by the bed, staring back at him. She was fully dressed, face made up and hair perfectly tousled, obviously ready to go out. A frown creased her forehead and her eyes glittered dangerously.
“Well if you hadn’t drunk all that vodka and then all my wine, maybe you wouldn’t be feeling so bad. Why don’t you just stay there, I’m going out.” She spoke sharply.
He struggled to sit up, suddenly furious at her tone of voice.
“Where in God’s name are you off to so early? We haven’t any appointments for today Ellen.”
She rolled her eyes in exasperation.
“It’s not early Justin. I’ve already had breakfast. I brought you a couple of croissants just in case you could manage them.” She indicated a plate on the bedside table.
The fury left him, to be replaced with revulsion as he saw the plate. The rich pastries were shiny with butter. She had put a big blob of raspberry jam at the side of them. It wobbled nervously as he pushed the plate further away. He swallowed and pulled the covers up again as his stomach churned. He didn’t think he would be sick again. He had nothing left to be sick with, but he wasn’t willing to risk it.
“Thanks, but no thanks.” He mumbled feebly as he slumped back down in the bed.
Ellen stared, revolted, at him for another second and then picked up the bag at her feet. She took a quick glance at her reflection in the mirror and then turned back to Justin.
“I’m meeting that agent I told you about last night. He has something to show me that may be just what I’m looking for, but I’m going on my own. If the place is any good for my project, you wouldn’t be interested and I don’t want you there anyway. You can stay here and sleep your hangover off.” Her voice still had the sharp edge to it and Justin struggled to look at her from under the edge of the duvet.
“For God’s sake Ellen, can’t you wait until I’m ready? Can’t you wait until this afternoon at least? I could come with you and give some sort of level headed opinion. You’re going to need it as you’re so airy fairy and likely to get carried away otherwise.” He barely knew why he was offering. He felt terrible. There was no way he was getting out of bed before lunchtime.
She stared at his outline under the covers and felt sick just looking at his curled, pathetic form. She couldn’t believe she had stayed with him for so long or fathom how she had once thought him handsome. She must have been blind not to see all his faults before now. She wondered if this was the right time to bring up last night’s conversation, unsure from how he was reacting, if he could recall what they had talked about.
“Justin, do you remember anything of what we discussed last night? Did you understand any of what I was telling you?”
He was silent for a moment and he brought his eyebrows together as he concentrated for a second, then he spoke hoarsely.
“To be honest I can’t remember much of anything about last night, well, not after you came into the hotel looking as though you’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. Look, I might as well make it plain now. If you want to go ahead and look at this place, then fine, but there’s no way you’re going to get me involved in this ridiculous plan.” He turned over in the bed then swallowed a couple of times as his stomach churned again at the sight of the pastries. Their sickly sweet aroma wafted across him and bile rose in his throat. He was in no fit state to have this argument.
Ellen looked at him in horror as she saw his skin turn a strange shade of green and she quickly swept the plate of croissants over to the dressing table.
“Justin! Don’t you remember any of last night at all? I didn’t even sleep in the same room as you. I booked another down the hall. You are not going to be involved in any of my plans any more. Not now or in the future.” She sat down suddenly on the end of the bed, unexpected relief washing over her as the words rushed out. “It’s over Justin. Until yesterday I thought there still might be a chance for us, but after what happened with the estate agent and last night. It brought everything to a head and made me realize how bad things are between us. I know that I’ve made the right choice. I’m sorry that you don’t remember the conversation, but I made it plain. I don’t want to be with you any longer.”
He struggled to sit up, slightly confused still, but suddenly wide-awake. The thought of millions of pounds drifting from his grasp suddenly spurring him into action.
“You can’t mean that! Just because of a difference of opinion over what sort of places we want to buy. Ellen, be reasonable for goodness sake. Surely we can come to some sort of agreement that will be good for both of us. I’ll keep quiet about anything else until you’ve got your idea off the ground and then we can go look at some sensible property.”
There it was again. Property. She knew she had made the right decision. She shrugged.
“But that’s just it Justin. I am being reasonable. I let you influence me over Spain. I let you joint own the properties even though you put nothing in. Not even a moment of your time. It’s me that’s buying property for you because that’s what you want, but those types of places hold no interest for me. And to be honest, I’m pretty sure you don’t have any interest in me either. I think you are only interested in my money. You know how I feel about David and a lot of his friends, my friends. I grew up with them all, they all looked after me when our parents died. I needed them so much then, and now I’m in a position to do something about it, I can return the favour. It’s obvious you have no concern for them at all.”
He leaned forwards, ignoring his roiling stomach as he tried to take her hand, gripping it tightly, desperate to placate her.
“Ellen, how can you say that? Of course I feel for them, I’m not totally insensitive, but they signed up for this type of thing. T
hey signed their lives away when they joined up so I don’t see why I should feel that sorry for them. Let the government pay for it. It doesn’t have to be you. You’re going to spend all your money on this daft, sentimental project and get nothing back. It doesn’t make any sense.”
She sighed deeply. Always the same. Money, money, money. No feeling for her or for David and his friends. She pulled her hand out of his over tight, sweaty grasp.
“It may not make sense to you, but it does to me. Nobody signs up to have half their body ripped off Justin. None of them sign up to be disfigured by revolting, burning chemicals that some crazy war lord thinks are a necessity to keep his drug route open. I’ve put enough money away to live comfortably for the rest of my life and so I can spend the rest on other people if I want to.” Her voice suddenly hardened. “And I think I’ve spent enough on you. While you were preoccupied in the loo last night, I came to a decision. I’m going to sign the Spain thing over to you completely. A million pounds worth of property Justin. Think of it! All for you. I don’t want anything to do with those apartments any longer, I never wanted them in the first place and…I definitely don’t want anything more to do with you either. We’re finished. I think the properties will be a good enough settlement for you, especially as, in law, I don’t think I have to do anything at all for you.” She stood up and moved towards the door.
He suddenly noticed her travelling case standing outside the wardrobe and, realizing at last that she was serious, began to pull the covers out of his way. His panic made his stomach roil even more.
“You decided all this just because I was drunk last night? You can’t do this to me Ellen. We’ve been together for years. Don’t I have a say in anything?” He stumbled, naked, out of the bed, but she opened the room door and stepped through into the corridor.
“You’ve had plenty of say Justin. Now it’s my turn. The room’s paid up until the weekend. After that, it’ll be down to you. Bye.”
He scrabbled at the covers, trying to drag them around his body as she turned her back on him. She closed the door firmly behind her, leaving him standing, open mouthed in the bedroom, unable to quite believe his ears.
The feeling of release, as she marched towards the lift, was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. Even when she and David had found out that they were to inherit over thirty million pounds each, and that they would never have to worry about money again, she had only felt a little out of her depth and slightly euphoric for a few weeks.
This feeling was entirely different. She wanted to clip her heels as she rode down in the lift. She wanted to shout, Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! To anyone who would listen to her. She giggled as she descended to the ground floor. She could hardly wait to telephone her brother and tell him she was free.
She said her goodbyes to the staff on duty, promising them that her early departure was none of their faults and assuring them that she would return soon. She walked out to the huge four by four that Justin had insisted they hire, and hoisted herself in. For a moment she felt slightly guilty at leaving him without transport, but then she shrugged. A rental company would deliver a car to the hotel if he rang them. She wondered what type of vehicle it would be, seeing that he would now be paying for it himself.
It was only as she put her hands on the steering wheel that she noticed her diamond engagement ring still sitting proudly on her left hand. She looked at it for a long moment and then slipped it from her finger. She squeezed it in her fist. There was no way she wanted to wear it any longer, but she certainly wasn’t giving it back to Justin.
He hadn’t bought it in the first place.
They had strolled along London’s Bond Street together, a month after finding out that she had inherited a fortune, and then drifted into a wine bar for lunch. Justin had proposed to her over a delicious duck pate and then had made excuses for the fact that he hadn’t bought a ring because he wanted her to choose something she liked. They had ended up returning along Bond Street and selecting a beautiful diamond cluster from Aspreys. She had been so excited that it taken another month for her to realize that Justin hadn’t used his card to pay for it and he had never mentioned paying her back.
She could feel the stones pressing into her palm as she wondered what to do with it. She couldn’t just chuck it out of the window in some grand gesture of her newly found freedom. It had cost a small fortune. She would sell it and buy something for her project with the proceeds. She slipped it into her pocket and felt another weight fall from her shoulders. At this rate she soon wouldn’t need a car. She felt as though she could fly already.
She pulled out of the hotel car park and drove slowly back down the road she had walked along the night before. She couldn’t help but turn her head and stare into the thickness of the forest along the side of the road. There was no way she would have found her way through by herself. She wondered about the tall lopsided man for a few moments and then nearly crashed the car into the hedge on her side of the road as she saw him, a lone, dark figure standing just a few trees back in the woods. She saw him quite clearly, his pale features distinct against the trees, one side of his face covered with the long mop of dark hair.
She braked sharply and leapt out of the driving seat, leaving the door wide open and the engine running. She ran back a few paces and called out.
“Hey! You there! I’ve got your coat!” She was in no doubt at all that it was her rescuer, the scars she’d noticed the night before had been even clearer in the daylight. She jumped over the ditch at the side of the road, took a couple of paces into the undergrowth and then stopped as darkness closed in around her. She peered into the woods, surprised at their almost overwhelming thickness. All sounds of the nearby town seem to have been cut off as she entered the woods. They felt cold and unwelcoming. It was odd because she hadn’t felt like this the night before with the man by her side. She shuddered as she peered into the gloom. The only sound was of the breeze drifting gently through the treetops.
The man had disappeared as silently as he had done the night before. She stood there feeling slightly ridiculous. Why had he ignored her, avoided her even? There was no way he hadn’t seen her or heard her call. He had been staring right back at her as she had stopped the car, and if she had recognized him, then with his obviously superior eyesight, he would have easily recognized her.
“Hey! Essex boy! I only wanted to return your coat!” She called out a little more softly as she stepped backwards out of the gloom again. She shivered a little in the silence and then hopped back over the ditch. She walked quickly back to the open door of the car.
Perhaps he really hadn’t seen or heard her, or perhaps he wasn’t even the same guy. She must have mistaken shadows for scars because there was no reason at all why, if it had been her rescuer, he should ignore her. It was probably some other French chap out hunting. It was a common enough sport here in the countryside. She climbed back into the car and pulled the door closed behind her.
She took one last long look into the forest, staring hard into its impenetrable depths, hoping to catch another glimpse of his tall figure, and then she gave it up. She had an appointment to keep. She’d catch up with the man some other time and if she didn’t, she’d leave his coat by the château door. It seemed the obvious place. It would be a shame if she couldn’t see him again. She wanted to find out if the strange electrical tingling that she had felt every time she thought about him was just a figment of her imagination. She flushed at the wild thoughts that came far too easily once again and pressed her hand to her belly to stop the mad flipping sensation deep in her stomach,
She lifted the bag holding his coat to her face and breathed the lush smell in deeply. Her stomach leapt again and her heart pounded furiously beneath her ribs. Oh God! She thought and closed her eyes. Why was she feeling like this when she was just sniffing at his old coat? Maybe it was just as well that she didn’t meet him again. She didn’t think her body could take it.
He had turned sharply away
as soon as he realized who was in the giant car and that she had seen him. He had hurriedly stepped back deeper into the woods, and stood with his back pressed to the trunk of a wide pine tree, momentarily annoyed that he was going to have to delay his trip to the local market.
And then he took a quick glance to see if she was following him. His breath caught in his throat and he gazed at her, mesmerized, silent in his new hiding place. It hadn’t been any trick of the moonlight. She was completely stunning. Her rich, chestnut hair was tumbling over her shoulders, sweeping across her beautiful face in the gentle breeze. Her eyes were the darkest brown, wide and framed by impossibly thick eyelashes. Her lips were full and tinged the softest pink. He groaned as he looked lower at her curving frame, fuller in exactly the right places and accentuated by a close fitting jumper and skin hugging jeans.
His stomach rumbled and clenched in tightly, but he didn’t think it was because he was hungry. He waited quietly, hoping she would go away quickly, so that he could forget those wonderful curves and that beyond beautiful face. He needed to be practical and get to the market before it closed.
He had only just started plucking up the courage to limp along the stalls, buying meat and fish and delicious home grown vegetables. It had taken a week or two for him to notice that people didn’t stare at him here. They didn’t seem to mind his odd voice as he practiced his rasping, schoolboy French, ordering oddly named cheeses and strange cuts of meat. He had only found out later that they thought he was a leftover of an older era.
When he had bought his cottage in the woods, all he had wanted was somewhere to live completely alone, where nobody could bother him ever again. He hadn’t taken any notice of the fact that the tiny building stood in the grounds of the huge, derelict château. He seemed to remember the agent telling him that the cottage had originally been the gardener’s house, and that although it had no official garden itself, in an attempt to get someone to buy the place, it was being sold with access rights to the whole of the estate.
Running Scarred (Scarred Series Book 1) Page 4