Lightly, he traced a finger down her arm. He must have been crazy to let her stay and work for him, and crazier still to end up sleeping with her. But how was he supposed to resist her when everywhere he looked she was there? Laughing with his grandfather or bending over a notebook, her bottom jutting so alluringly towards him... His face darkened as he felt her stir beside him. It was too late to worry about resisting her. The only question that remained was what he should do next.
Shifting his weight slightly, he turned his head and stared down into her face.
Prudence looked up at him in silence. Her head was still spinning but she didn’t want to speak anyway. For to speak would be to break the spell. Drifting her fingers over the flat muscles of his stomach, she bit her lip. It had felt so good—too good, she thought, heat colouring her cheeks as she remembered the sharp intensity of her climax. But then, making love with Laszlo had always been shockingly exciting. It was hardly surprising that her body still responded to him so fiercely.
She felt a twinge of alarm. Hardly surprising, but not particularly sensible. Her eyes closed. There was nowhere to hide from what she’d done.
She’d made love with Laszlo. A man who had broken her heart seven years ago and made her feel worthless and stupid. A man who, she’d since found out, had lied to her for the entire length of their relationship but who held her responsible for ending their affair. Her eyes opened. Oh, if that wasn’t messy enough, he was both her boss and apparently her husband too.
She shivered and, frowning, he pulled her against the warmth of his chest.
‘You’re not cold, are you?’
She managed a weak smile. ‘No. I was just listening to the storm. I think it’s moving off.’
Laszlo reached out and cupped her chin with his other hand. ‘It’s not, you know. It’s right here. In this room. Can’t you feel it?’
His fingers began to drift languidly over her stomach and lower, to the triangle of soft curls at the top of her thighs. She knew she should push him away, tell him to stop, but already she could feel her pulse quicken in response.
‘We need to get dressed,’ she whispered quickly, for soon she wouldn’t be able to speak or think or even be aware of anything except the ruthless seeking rhythm of his caresses. ‘For lunch.’
His fingers stilled and then she felt a sharp tug, like a fish hook in her stomach, as his warm palm slid over her breast, pulling gently at the nipple until she felt soft and hot and aching inside.
‘I can’t wait that long,’ he murmured, catching her hand and pushing it down towards his groin. ‘I’m too hungry.’
Without giving her a chance to reply he lifted her hips and drew her against him, his mouth stifling her soft gasp of excitement. And even though something deep inside her knew she was heading for disaster she arched herself willingly against him as the fierce heat swept over her again.
CHAPTER SIX
GLANCING UP AT the window, Prudence frowned as a few small drops of rain hit the glass. Mr de Zsadany—she still thought of him as that privately—had given her the afternoon off and she’d been hoping to walk into the nearby village. Now that plan would have to wait. She sighed. Not that it mattered really; she had a stack of books by her bed or she could even just watch some old black and white movie on TV.
She bit her lip. Only that would mean going back to the cottage. Her face flared, as it did every time she remembered that scene inside the living room: she and Laszlo, their bodies fused together, moving effortlessly against and inside each other, outside of time and reality. Her happiness had been absolute—and for the first time in such a long while she had felt savagely alive.
Only now, back in reality, she had to face facts. She’d simply picked up from where she’d left off seven years ago. Only at least then they’d actually been in love—or she had. And to Laszlo, at least, she had been—her mind shrank from the words—his wife.
Crossly, she snatched up a pile of papers and stuffed them without her usual care into a file. Now she was nothing more than a fool and a clichéd fool at that. She shook her head. The castle might be a romantic setting but the truth was more prosaic: she’d just slept with her boss. Like some naive heroine in a lurid story, she’d allowed herself to be swept away by a tide of fate and coincidence. And lust!
She blinked. What was wrong with her? She had practically invited him to have sex with her. Her stomach clenched and she felt a pang of queasiness. How could she? Knowing what she knew about him and how he felt about her. For someone who’d vowed never to fall for his charms again, she’d certainly fallen into his arms with almost embarrassing alacrity.
Biting her lip, she picked up a paperweight and thumped it down on top of a pile of certificates. Who was she trying to kid? What had happened between her and Laszlo had been inevitable. But also horribly confusing. Lying in his arms had felt so natural, so familiar—as if she still belonged to him. And afterwards, when he’d pulled her against him, kissing her passionately right up until the moment before he’d calmly ushered her into lunch, that too had felt as if it meant something.
She frowned. But it hadn’t. What they’d shared had just been sex. And after seven years of occasional dates and virtual celibacy, what she’d been feeling had simply been loneliness and lust. Only it had been impossible for her to see that, because intimacy with Laszlo shouldered out all rational thought.
She sighed. It was too late for regrets. All she could do now was keep her distance. Which shouldn’t be hard, given that shortly after she’d let him take what he wanted he’d simply disappeared, slipping away like a swallow at the end of summer.
Picking up a box of files, she glanced round the empty room dispiritedly and sighed. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if she could make her longing for him disappear just as easily?
An hour later, hair newly washed and dressed in a faded sundress, she wandered slowly around the garden behind the cottage. She felt slightly calmer now, restored by the fresh air and the sunlight. The rain had stopped, the sky was a clear blue and a light wind brushed her bare legs as she crossed the lawn.
With a cry of pleasure she spotted a cherry tree and, after pulling down a handful of the gleaming dark fruit, she bit into one. It was perfectly ripe and a sharp sweetness filled her mouth.
And that was when she saw him, walking slowly towards her across the grass.
It was all she could do to keep breathing. She stood, tracking him with her eyes, until he stopped in front of her. There was a roaring sound in her ears and her pulse scampered like a mouse across the floor as his gaze met hers—golden, steady and unwavering.
‘I’ve been looking for you,’ he said quietly.
Skin prickling, she stared at him in silence, hardly able to believe it was him.