Читать книгу Undressed by the Billionaire - Susanne James - Страница 14

MAYBE the fates had decided she deserved a bit of luck, Savannah concluded as she followed a group of servants carrying fresh towels and a tray with a pot of coffee on it. There couldn’t be that many people staying at the palazzo, surely?

All she cared about was finding Ethan, and as she waited, concealed in the shadows while one of the servants knocked on a door, she thrilled at the sound of his voice. Finding him filled her with relief.

She waited for the staff to come out again, and when their footsteps had died away she came out of hiding and cautiously approached the door around which they’d been clustered. The handle yielded all too easily, and as she pressed the door open a crack she could hear the shower running.

Opening the door fully, Savannah slipped inside. She found herself in a mannish-looking sitting room where the scent of good leather and books was overwhelming. She looked around. Okay, so now what? There was hardly anywhere to hide. As she had suspected, Ethan’s tastes were plain. The floors were polished wood, and the sofas were dark-brown leather. The walls were lined with books and not much else, other than some vibrant modern paintings.

Originals, Savannah noted with interest, signed with a letter B that had a diagonal line through it. She could imagine what a psychologist might make of that. And as for the content: frightened, wide-eyed children without faces or proper form. The paintings were brilliant—but, in the same way Edvard Munch’s The Scream both fascinated and repelled, these paintings were deeply disturbing. And there were shadows in them … lots and lots of shadows.

Were the paintings an autobiographical account of Ethan’s childhood?

She’d bet her life on it. And this window into his psyche was both more illuminating and far worse than anything she had imagined. That he had immense talent was in no doubt, and as another type of artist she found that bond between them reassuring—though everything else about the paintings troubled her and told her she was right to be concerned. Listening, she was reassured to hear the shower still running. What other secrets could she uncover in the time she had?

She wasn’t here to pry, but to sense things, Savannah told herself, remaining motionless in the middle of the room. And then the water stopped running. And she was completely exposed. She braced herself. All the clever words and questions she’d been preparing for Ethan deserted her. But when he didn’t emerge from the bathroom curiosity got the better of her. Tip-toeing to the door, she peeped through a crack. Sensation streamed through every inch of her at the sight of Ethan standing in front of a mirror with just a towel around him.

He was magnificent.

Although his scars were far, far worse than she had thought, she had never seen anyone half so virile or appealing. His legs were beautifully shaped and muscular, and his naked torso was everything she had dreamed of. The extent of his injuries, of his scarring, only proved it was a miracle he had made it through, and the thought of the pain he must have experienced cut her like a knife. He was twice the man she’d thought him. And more.

Savannah jumped back in alarm as Ethan thrust his fists down on a marble counter-top. For a moment she thought he’d seen her and that that must have prompted the angry action, but then she realised he was leaning over his braced arms with his shoulder-muscles knotted and his head bowed, as if the sight of his own body had disgusted him. She knew then that everything she had feared for him was true: Ethan’s injuries had scarred more than his body, they had scarred the man.

‘Savannah?’

She gasped out loud as he wheeled around.

‘Savannah! I’m speaking to you!’

The ferocity in his tone made her back away.

‘What do you think you’re doing here?’

‘Looking for you …’ She backed away, hands outstretched in supplication. ‘I knocked, but you didn’t hear me.’

‘You didn’t hear the water running?’

‘I heard it, but.’

‘You didn’t leave immediately?’

‘No, I.’

‘You what?’ he flashed across her. ‘Wanted to try out your amateur psychology on me?’ As he spoke his glance swept the paintings which he knew she must have seen. ‘I thought so,’ he spat out with contempt when she didn’t reply.

‘Ethan, please.’

‘I thought we’d agreed you’d stay away from me?’

‘Did we?’ Her voice was trembling. ‘I don’t remember that.’

Straightening up, Ethan dipped his head. His stare was menacing.

‘Stop trying to intimidate me.’ If only her voice would stop shaking.

‘Then tell me why you’re here.’

‘Like I said, I was looking for you.’

‘Because?’ he prompted harshly.

‘I wanted to speak to you.’

‘And so you sneaked into my room?’

‘No!’

‘Go back to bed, Savannah.’

‘No.’ She shook her head. But how was she going to put all her thoughts and impressions into a few short sentences when Ethan would never give her the time? Shorthand was her only option. ‘I care about you.’

‘You care about me?’ Ethan’s laugh was cold and ugly. ‘If you only knew how infantile that sounded.’

‘Caring for someone is infantile?’ Savannah threw up her hands. ‘Then I’m guilty.’ The feelings she had developed for Ethan were so deep and so complex, at this point she had nothing to lose. ‘I’ll admit, I’m not good with words.’

‘No, you’re not.’ Grabbing his robe, Ethan threw it on, belting it to hide his mutilations from her gaze. ‘Get out of here, Savannah.’

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ she informed him stubbornly.

‘Must I throw you out?’

She wanted to run as far and as fast as she could from the expression on Ethan’s face. He had turned so angry and dark, and so utterly contemptuous of her. ‘You wouldn’t—’

But her voice wobbled and Ethan pounced. ‘Can you be sure of that?’

‘I’m absolutely sure you would never hurt me.’ Standing her ground, she stared him full in the face.

‘Have you finished? Can I continue with my evening in peace now?’

‘I’ve not nearly finished!’ Like a cork in a bottle her frustrations had been tamped down long enough. ‘You can’t dismiss me. I’m not a child!’

‘You certainly look like one to me.’

‘Then you’re not looking closely enough. I’m a woman, Ethan, a woman with feelings; a woman who won’t let those feelings go just because you say I must.’

Ethan’s answer was to curtly angle his chin towards the door. ‘And now I’m asking you to leave.’

‘I’m not going anywhere.’

He tried sweet reason. ‘It’s been a long day and you should be in bed.’

Savannah shook her head. ‘I’m not a child you can order to bed. All I want to do is talk to you.’

‘Well, I’m right out of conversation. Now, get out of here. Out!’ He backed her towards the door. ‘Try to get this through your head, Savannah …’ Bringing his face so close she could see the amber flecks in his steel-grey eyes, Ethan ground out, ‘I don’t want your company. I don’t want your conversation. And most of all I don’t want you snooping around here, spying on me.’

‘I’m not spying on you,’ Savannah said, raising her voice too. ‘And if it’s these you’re worried about—’

Sucking air between his teeth, Ethan knocked her hand away, but, ignoring him, she reached up anyway. Touching his face with her fingertips, she traced his cruel scars. ‘I don’t see them.’

‘You don’t see them?’ Ethan mimicked scathingly. Rearing back, he turned his face away.

‘No, I don’t.’ Savannah flinched as Ethan walked past her. And flinched again when, having poured a glass of water and drained it, he slammed the glass down so hard she couldn’t believe it hadn’t smashed. ‘It’s no use you trying to shut me out, because I’m not going anywhere, Ethan.’

He remained with his hostile back turned to her. Perhaps she had gone too far this time. Ethan’s massive shoulders were hunched, and his fists were planted so aggressively on a chair back his knuckles gleamed white.

‘Bad enough you’re here,’ he growled without looking at her, ‘But you should have told me you were—’

‘I’m sorry?’ Savannah interrupted, reading his mind. ‘Do you mean I should have told you I was a virgin?’ She waited until Ethan turned to face her. ‘Are you seriously suggesting I should have said, “how do you do, my name is Savannah, and I’m a virgin”?’

‘No, of course not,’ Ethan snapped, eyes smouldering with passion. ‘But if you’d given me at least some intimation, I could have made arrangements for you to stay elsewhere.’

‘In a nunnery, perhaps?’ Savannah cut across him. ‘In a safe place with a chaperon?’

‘And this isn’t safe, and I don’t have a chaperon.’

‘Correct.’

As they glared at each other it soon became apparent that neither one of them was prepared to break the stand-off.

‘And if I tell you I feel quite safe here with you?’

‘And if I tell you that the rest of the world will put a very different construction on your staying here with me?’

‘But I thought you didn’t care about gossip?’ she countered.

‘I care how it affects you.’

‘From the point of view that I’m signed to your record company as the next young singing sensation, which means I must appear to the world to be innocent?’

Ethan took her barbed comment with far better grace than she might have expected. It was almost as if they had got the measure of each other, and for once he was crediting her with some sense—though he drew out the waiting time until her nerves were flayed and tender. Relaxing onto one hip then, he thumbed his chin as the expression in his eyes slowly cooled from passion to wry reflection. ‘That’s a very cynical attitude for a young girl to have.’

‘How many times—?’

‘Must you tell me you’re not the young girl I think you are?’ he supplied in a low voice that strummed her senses.

‘If I’m cynical,’ Savannah countered, ‘Surely you’re the last person who should be surprised?’

‘I’m going to say this as clearly as I can.’ Ethan’s voice held a crushing note of finality. ‘I don’t want you here. Please leave now.’

She waited a moment too, and then said, ‘No.’

‘No?’

‘No,’ Savannah repeated. ‘You’re asking me to believe I must do everything you say. Well, standing my ground where you’re concerned might not be a big thing in your world, or easy in mine, but it has to be a whole lot better than agreeing to be your doormat.’

‘Have you quite finished?’ he demanded.

‘I’ve barely started,’ she assured him, but even she could see there was little point in pursuing this if she couldn’t persuade Ethan to see her in a different light.

And she couldn’t. He pointed to the door.

Lifting her head, she wrapped what little dignity she had left around her and walked towards it—but when she reached it she just had to know: ‘What’s wrong with me, Ethan?’

‘Wrong with you?’ He frowned.

‘Is it because I’m not pretty enough, not desirable enough, or is it the fact that I’m not experienced and savvy enough when it comes to handling situations like this?’

‘Savannah, there is no situation—other than my increasing impatience with you, which means there may soon be a situation, and it will be one you won’t like.’

Walking over to the door, Ethan opened it for her. ‘Goodnight, Savannah.’

Ethan felt nothing for her and she had no answer to that. She was so lacking in female guile, she had no tricks up her sleeve, and it was too late to wish she’d learned them before she’d come here.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Ethan demanded when she turned around and walked back in the room.

If he wanted her out, he was going to have to throw her out, and something told her he wouldn’t do that. Now she just had to hope she was right.

He shook his head. ‘Savannah, you are the most difficult, the most stubborn—’

‘Individual in the world aside from you?’ She held Ethan’s gaze along with her breath, and sent a plea into the ether. If there was anyone listening out there, anyone at all …

‘I was about to say, the most annoying guest I’ve ever had. You will have noted my use of the past tense, I hope?’

‘You can’t just dismiss me.’

‘Watch me. Out,’ he rapped, employing the full force of his laser stare.

‘Why are you so angry all the time?’

‘Why are you so slow to take a hint?’

‘Well, clearly my experience of men is somewhat limited, but if you’d just allow me to—’

‘To do what?’ he cut across her, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

‘Spend time with you?’ Savannah trembled as she clutched on to this last all-too-brittle straw.

Ethan’s laugh was scathing. ‘You must think I make a habit of courting trouble. Out.’ He pointed to the door.

‘Can’t we even have one last drink together?’

‘Gin and tonic?’ he mocked.

‘If you like.’

‘I don’t like. Now, go to bed.’

He closed the door with relief. Leaning back against it, he let out a groan of relief. Mentally, physically, he was in agony. He shouldn’t even be thinking this way about Savannah. And now he knew she was a virgin he had even less excuse—though how to stop erotic images of her flooding his mind was something he had no answer for. He wanted her. Wanted her? He ached for her. The urge to lose himself in her was overwhelming him, but he couldn’t feed on perfection, or drain her innocence to somehow dilute the ugliness inside him.

That was a wound of such long standing he doubted he’d ever be rid of it. It had taken seed in him the day he’d realised his mother had chosen his stepfather over her seven-year-old son, and had germinated on the day she’d seen his bruises in the bath. Instead of questioning them, she had told him she’d take his bike away if he wasn’t more careful. Had she really believed the buckle marks on his back had come from a fall? That bitterness was in full flower by the time he’d been ready to make his own way in the world, and those dark secrets had stayed with him. Would he share a legacy like that with Savannah? Not a chance. She was like a ray of light with her whole life in front of her, and he would do anything to protect her. He would do nothing to stop that little candle throwing its beam around the world.

Pulling away from the door, he thrust his hands through his hair with frustration. He wanted Savannah. He wanted to make love to her. The most important thing to him was that Savannah remembered the first time she made love for the right reasons.

He tensed, hearing her footsteps returning. That sound was shortly followed by a tap on the door. ‘Yes?’

‘Ethan, it’s me.’

‘What do you want?’ He tried to sound gruff. Had she forgotten something? He glanced round the room, already knowing it was a vain hope. He opened the door. She looked like a pale wraith beneath the lights she had insisted on, and they were blazing full in his face. He hardly cared or noticed these days when people turned away from him, but he noticed tonight that Savannah didn’t flinch. ‘What do you want?’ he said wearily.

‘You …’

Her voice was so small he couldn’t be sure he’d heard her correctly.

‘I want you,’ she repeated. ‘I want you, Ethan.’ She held his gaze as she paused, as if she needed to prepare herself for the next step, and then she whispered, ‘Will you make love to me?’

He was already closing the door. ‘Don’t be so silly.’

‘I’m not being silly.’

The door was stuck. And then he realised she put her foot in the way. He wanted to laugh at the sight of Savannah’s tiny foot in his door, but, seeing the expression on her face, he knew this was no time for laughter.

‘Please, can I come in?’ she begged him.

As she looked anxiously up and down the corridor, he knew the answer to that had to be yes. He wouldn’t let her make a fool of herself in front of the servants. ‘All right,’ he agreed, opening the door wide enough for her to slip through. He would soon sort this out. He would tell her it must never happen again and then send her on her way.

But as he closed the door she rounded on him. ‘Ethan, what do I have to do to make you see that I’m a woman?’

Noticing Savannah’s hands were balled with frustration, he reached out. She reached out too. Whether he intended to hold her off or pull her close, he wasn’t sure, he only knew they tangled and collided, and when she closed her eyes he dragged her close and kissed her.

She was trembling like a leaf by the time Ethan pulled away to cup her face and stare into her eyes. This was everything she had ever dreamed of and more. Ethan was everything she had ever dreamed of and more, and his kiss sealed the meeting of two lovers who had to have known each other for longer than one lifetime, and who needed the immediate reassurance of pressing every fragment of their flesh against each other. As she gazed up at Ethan, with all the love she felt for him shining in her eyes, she could have sworn he asked her, ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, I’m sure,’ she whispered back.