Love wasn’t about what materialistic things you could get from each other. With everything stripped away, love should be enough. Oliver never loved her. He was in love with what he could get from her.
“He wanted to get back together.”
Ethan’s grip twisted around the steering wheel. “What’d you say?”
Did he think she’d consider it? Her stomach churned. What was wrong with Ethan tonight? He didn’t seem himself and Holly was thinking it was more than just a busy day.
“I told him I wasn’t interested and never to contact me again.”
He nodded and a muscle ticked in his clenched jaw. The only sign of how he felt. “You’ve told him that before. What makes you think he got the message this time?”
“My landlord’s husband threatened him enough to scare him away. It’s over.”
Before she could explain the reason Oliver wanted a reconciliation, they pulled into a driveway and stopped in front of black iron gates. Ethan stuck his hand out of the open window, punched in some numbers on a keypad and the doors swung open.
The sun had just sunk in the distance, throwing purple, pink and orange colours in the sky.
Ethan’s brother had moved out and this was Holly’s first visit. The driveway lined with box hedges led up to a nineteenth century sandstone house with stone pillars, huge white French windows and a wrap-around veranda with wrought iron railings. She should step out of the car in a ballgown not jeans and a t-shirt. Her parents’ home was beautiful, this was spectacular. She understood why he favoured tailored pants and shirts over casual clothes. You really did need to dress up for a house like this. Now she felt like a slob with her clothing choice.
Outside was stunning, but the interior was jaw dropping. When she walked inside, she was hit with harbour views from floor to ceiling windows that made her view of the harbour from a rocky ledge seem pretty pathetic.
The house could be featured in one of those flashy home décor magazines. The French provincial style was light and sophisticated. It screamed designer touch all over it.
He wrapped his arms around her waist propping his chin on the top of her head and she leaned her back against his chest. Funny how after only a couple weeks, being in his arms was the only place she wanted to be. The safest place. Something she never expected and wasn’t looking for and couldn’t imagine anything different. She turned in his arms wanting to tell him how she felt, how her feelings had grown so strong, but tension was etched in his face and he avoided looking directly in her eyes. Worry twisted in her stomach. Now was not the time.
“Good evening, Mr Doyle. First course is ready if you’d like to start dinner?”
Ethan stepped away from Holly and she saw a man dressed much like the waiters at the Ainsworth Hotel. That dinner hadn’t ended well. She hoped this one wasn’t so tragic.
“Thank you.” Ethan held Holly’s hand and led her to a dinning room.
The elegance of the house continued into the room. A large shiny mahogany table big enough for the royal family, sat underneath an intricate chandelier. The glassware set for dinner sparkled like diamonds from the golden light.
What a huge and elaborate home for one person. And even though she grew up in a similar style of house with staff and expensive things, she was never comfortable. That’s probably why she’d adjusted to living with a lot less so easily. Because all that stuff meant nothing to her.
Ethan pulled out Holly’s seat and she sat down. He took the chair opposite. “I’ve hired the chef from Spirals restaurant. Since you refuse to dine there, I brought him to you.” He smiled his usual gorgeous smile that always did funny things to her heart. The sparkle in his eyes that usually came with it, was missing.
She waited for the waiter to pour their wine. Another entered the room with two plates, setting them down in front of them. What was with multiple staff? At least this meal was more generous than last night’s dinner. When she took in Ethan’s expression her appetite vanished.
“Ethan, is something wrong?” she asked as he poked the food with his fork.
He raised his gaze and put down his cutlery. “How did your dinner with your parents go?”
He avoided her question by changing the subject. Worry for him grew stronger. Something wasn’t right. “Well,” she sighed. “Here’s the short story. They didn’t even consider my idea of staying in Sydney for another year. They also told me Oliver stole millions from them, so they fired him. Which was the reason he wanted to get back together. Now it makes sense. He was trying to worm his way into the business through me.”
“Are you going back?” He made no mention of Oliver, like he was distracted and only taking in parts of the conversation.
She took a sip of wine, wanting to take away the foul taste in her mouth whenever she thought about their bribe. “No.”
“How’d they react?”
“They threatened to disinherit me if I didn’t take it.”
His eyes widened. “And youstillrefused?”
“I don’t want their money, especially when it comes with conditions. I may not have much but I feel richer than I’ve ever been.”
“I’m sorry they did that to you.” Then he averted his gaze and dropped his head to concentrate on stabbing at his food again. What was bothering him?
