Hearing, as if an echo, a soft laugh behind her…
Lycos dipped below the water again. His soft laugh silenced, but the reason for it still resonant within him, as he dolphin-kicked the length of the pool before surfacing. A sense of satisfaction filled him. He knew why she had refused and he was glad of it. He had seen the sudden flush in her cheeks as she’d turned away.
He slowed his stroke, easing back to a more leisurely, steady pace. Lapping the lengths and pondering as he did so. Any of his other women, the ones he was used to, would have instantly either accepted his invitation, eager to respond, or else would have turned it down coquettishly, flirtatiously.
Arielle had simply blushed.
And walked away.
As his pace slowed, he thought about it. Found words shaping themselves in his head. Unfamiliar words.
All I have seen from her, all day, is emotion. Shock, dismay, distress. So much emotion. Raw and uncontrolled. I have seen her as she is. Nothing hidden.
It was a strange realisation. An unfamiliar one. What did he know of any of the women he’d consorted with? They’d always put forward a persona, an image, a facsimile of whoever they were. He’d never penetrated behind that persona. Never questioned who they really were, if they were anyone at all, whether they had any existence other than the one he required them to have.
But I keep myself from them, too. I keep myself from everyone.
He knew why he did that. There’d been too much in the past for anything else. Too much that he didn’t want to think about, to remember. It was the way he operated. The way that worked for him. The way he had become over the long years that separated him from the past. The way he was familiar with.
He knew no other way to be. No other way he wanted to be.
As he reached the shallow end of the pool he halted abruptly. He waded out of the pool using the corner steps, feeling the warmth of the late afternoon sun on his bare shoulders. He strode to his lounger, seized the towel to pad himself dry, then, looping it around his neck, slid on his sunglasses, scooped up his polo shirt and headed back indoors.
From the cool hallway he could hear clattering coming from the kitchen and caught the aroma of garlic. He paused by the door, leaning against the jamb.
‘Dinner?’ he queried.
Arielle was by the sink, chopping onions on a wooden board.
‘Boeuf bourguignon,’ she said. She did not look at him. ‘It will take a good hour.’
‘No problem,’ Lycos returned easily. ‘I’m going up to shower and change. An aperitif would be good when I come down. Enjoy it with me.’
He didn’t bother to wait for an answer. He simply vaulted lightly up the stairs and disappeared into the bathroom, removing his dark glasses as he did.
The swim had done him good. Or something had.
In a pleasant mood he stepped inside the shower cubicle and turned on the water.
Arielle chopped the onion into smaller pieces more vigorously than was necessary. Her lips were tightened. Inside her chest she could feel her heart beating and she knew why. But she paid it no attention and instead, she focussed on cooking. She knew the reason for that too…
Onions chopped to within an inch of their life, she extracted beef steaks from the freezer. She cubed them and then tossed them in seasoned flour, then seared them. She then added the steak to the iron pan, along with the chopped garlic, onions and a plentiful amount of fresh thyme from the pots in the garden. She poured in a good measure of wine and set it all to simmer. Would her uninvited and unwelcome guest require a dessert as well? Her mouth tightened further at the thought, for Lycos Dimistrios was no more her ‘guest’ than Genghis Khan had been a ‘guest’ of those receiving his grim visitation.
For a moment she felt an overwhelming urge to march upstairs and bawl him out. Yell at him for being demanding, entitled and obnoxious. Then she sighed. What would that get her? An order to pack her bags and get out. She took a breath to steady herself.
Stick it out this evening. He’ll leave in the morning and then, until he formally sells and evicts you, you can at least stayhere. It could be weeks before a buyer wants the place. Precious weeks for you…
For that reason, and that reason alone, she would put up with his overbearing behaviour. And certainly not because he could raise her pulse in ways that had absolutely nothing to do with the reason he was here. She crushed that wayward, illicit and completely irrelevant-to-the-dire-situation thought way down.
What does it matter what he looks like? It’s who he is. He’s the man who won my home in a stupid, vile game of cards! So, I should totally ignore anything else about him.
She picked up a metal sieve and headed out for the walled section of the gardens that had been set aside as a kitchen garden. She would pick raspberries, soak them in liqueur and serve them with ice cream from the freezer.
Back in the kitchen she rinsed the raspberries and left them to drain. She then topped and tailed the beans she’d also picked to go with the beef and stirred the aromaticbourguignonsimmering gently in its heavy iron pan on the hob. She felt hot and sticky from the day’s heat and from the cooking. She usually swam this time of day…
Well, why not? He’s had his swim. I can have mine.
In his pool?
