er and she kissed him right back, her need urgent.
“You are like your mother.” He spat the words at her as he separated, stepping back, drawing breath in hard and fast, his hands on his hips and his legs wide. “Get the hell out of here.”
She was shaking from head to toe, like a leaf in a cyclone. It was what she wanted. But the idea of walking away from him like this filled her with something like acid. She couldn’t.
“Stavros,”
“Are you dumb? Do you not understand what I am saying” He snapped, the question the worst thing he could ever have said to her. Though he had no idea how cutting the question was, how hurtful, it snapped what little self-esteem Claudia had in two. She blanched visibly and sobbed audibly now. “Get the hell out of here.”
What had she expected?
She’d told Stavros Aresteides that she’d slept with him so she could seduce another man. His fury was understandable. She’d hurt his pride. She’d hurt his ego.
“I will have my lawyer draw up papers to release you from this guardianship.”
“What?” She stared up at him in confusion.
“I release you. You can have your trust fund. Do with it what you want. I never want to see you again.”
And he spun on his heel and stormed through the suite, into another of the rooms, shutting the door with an ominously quiet thud.
Claudia was alone. As always.
*
Stavros stared out at the formal gardens of Barnwell, seeing the carefully sculptured trees, the winter garden with its dark green vines and pines, and the settling of ice-cold air, but he was thinking of Claudia.
He was thinking of how much she would love it here.
And he was wondering if she’d seduced Arthur Pennington to her bed.
The idea made his gut churn. If Claudia wanted Arthur, then she would have him. What man could say no to her? He spun away from the view, pain making his head spin.
The thought of another man’s hands on her body was possibly the worst contemplation he’d ever made. He’d been angry when his brother had become engaged to Rhiannon, but he’d never felt jealous. He hadn’t felt that a possessive need was being stripped away from him.
He hadn’t felt like he could no longer breathe.
He stormed through the mansion – it seemed to be the only way he went anywhere now – willfully ignoring the call of the conservatory at the end of the hallway and turning into the kitchen instead. Was he imagining the smell of pudding? The spices heavy in the air?
With a grim expression, he went to the fridge and opened it. There it was. Wrapped in calico, the work of Claudia’s creation.
I never knew you were such a cold-hearted bitch. Her face had physically shifted when he’d hurled the insult at her. She’d looked like a kitten and he’d wanted to take the words back immediately, but he’d been so angry. The idea of diminishing what they’d shared as she had done! The idea that he’d tormented himself with guilt, agonizing what he owed his friend Christopher, when it had all been a learning exercise for Claudia. He’d been livid.
But hurting her with raging insults hadn’t felt good.
It had been excruciating, and all the more so for the way they ran around his head, chasing him mercilessly so that he couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t settle to anything.
He swore loudly and reached for the pudding, and his chest rolled like it had been kicked when he smelled the pudding and remembering the way she’d been that day. With flour on her cheek and spices in her hair.
With determination, he cut open the calico and sliced a piece of pudding, lifting it to his mouth without reheating it.
It was perfect. Moist and sweet, and full of all the flavours he remembered from Christmases with his grandmother, right here at Barnwell.
He finished the piece and then reached for his iPad. He told himself he was checking his emails, but his finger found its way to his news app and he was loading the papers before he knew it.
He flicked through, reading each article, or the headlines at least.
It didn’t take long to reach the society section. Nor to recognize Claudia on the page.