Page 30 of Enemies Under One Roof

‘Wait. Please.’

She stilled and turned her head but not her body.

‘It’s better this way, friends. You understand,’ he implored.

After a beat, she nodded and left as he stood there with a bone-deep regret that this was the way it had to be. He needed total honestly, always, which meant he had no choice but to push away the feelings for her that continued to grow.

* * *

Ivy glided down the hall, chin up, until she turned a corner and sagged against the wall. What had she been thinking, kissing Ethan like she was starved for oxygen and he was the air supply? Like nothing else mattered?

Because as much as she’d tried to pretend otherwise, wrapped in his arms, his body jammed against hers, something tightly coiled inside her chest had sprung free, and for a series of thundering heartbeats she’d felt fully alive, totally free. She dug her nails into her palms, tears smarting. She had no right to feel either of those things, and when he’d called a halt to their kiss, she’d done the only thing she could do. She’d called on Ivy, and like always, she’d delivered.

Ethan’s eyes had clouded with concern and it had rolled her stomach, making her fear she’d lose its contents all over the floor; she didn’t deserve his concern. Now she’d have to see him tomorrow and all the tomorrows during the next three and a half weeks. She fought the urge to race upstairs, pack and head for the hills, because tonight had proven the kiss from eight years ago had been no figment of her imagination. It had been just as earth-shattering the second time around, and it was Ethan, only him, who affected her this way.

Who made her forget who she was and what she’d done.

Made her yearn for impossible things.

Made her feel special, wanted.

Pressing a hand over her mouth again, she muffled her agonised howl, recalling the glimpse of ecstasy before it had been replaced with the unescapable stark reality…she wasn’t Annie, and there was no bright, sparkly future for her. She’d always be Ivy. Always. And she could never, ever lose sight of that.

She couldn’t forget her guilt, her pact with herself, not even for a moment. She’d instinctively sought to comfort him after he’d shared his harrowing memories of his parents’ last day. She’d naturally read about their tragic deaths, but to hear it through the lens of a ten-year-old Ethan had struck at her like a thousand daggers. And if he hadn’t been through enough, she’d learnt those infamous photos were taken when he’d found out about their deaths. The same photos which had resurfaced eight years ago—because of her.

She knew the tabloids had no boundaries, gosh, she’d lived it herself, but he’d been only ten. Ten!

Her eyes watered. Because of her, those pictures had run again. She bit the inside of her cheek and reminded herself she had to shut down the kernel of hope that he’d trusted her enough to share his recollections of that day. It didn’t mean anything, and judging by his reaction, he’d regretted it immediately.

Ethan, despite the scars of his upbringing, had made himself into a hardworking, driven man, who was generous and kind to those he trusted. Ruby, Cam, Luc and the staff at WillowGlen were testament to that. But he definitely didn’t trust her.

She hated that, but she’d done everything possible to make it so, trapping herself in an internal tug of war that had no winner.

She had to find out a way to carry on like nothing had happened and call on every skill she’d picked up, on and off screen, to hide her attraction to him. Because she couldn’t let Annie out again: that part of herself connected with Ethan on a level that terrified her.

She’d made Ivy take the lead for years and that’s what she had to keep doing.

A wave of exhaustion hit, as the endless charade was getting harder to pull off. In the future, there’d be no midnight visits to the kitchen for tea, for anything. No leaving her room in her robe. No longing for something she’d never have a right to, which was any kind of future with Ethan. He’d never tie himself to someone like her, nor should he. What she’d done to her parents would have to remain at the top of her mind, always.

Pushing herself off the wall, she headed to her frosty room, with a promise that tomorrow she’d be stronger against the incessant tug towards him. Because nothing else was an option.

Chapter Nine

A WEEK LATER Ivy relaxed into the red velvet chair and stretched her neck from side to side.

Ethan sat facing her in a matching chair, a card table between them, his laptop on its shiny surface. It wasn’t an ideal ergonomic set-up, but since Ethan had revealed why he hated the cold, she’d done everything possible to make sure wherever they worked was as warm as possible. That’s why they followed the sun like a sundial and were currently in the grand ballroom with the thick red velvet drapes pulled aside to let the sunshine stream through the windows that ran along one side.

‘So, we’re back to this,’ Ethan said, pushing up the sleeves of his black jumper.

Ivy blinked, trying not to get distracted by his sinewy forearms, the subtle scent of mint and something unidentifiable that was uniquely his, making her want to store his smell in her memory for the long cold years ahead.

She rubbed her temples, not sure if that would be heaven or hell, especially since their kiss in the kitchen. A kiss she desperately wanted to forget because it had felt so right, so good, even when it broke every promise she’d made to herself about what she deserved. Yet she didn’t have to worry about it being repeated as Ethan had halted it, didn’t want her. Something deep inside twisted painfully. She should be happy, relieved he had, because she wasn’t sure she would have.

And in the week since? Her peace of mind would have preferred it if his appeal had diminished during their long hours spent relentlessly going through the options of every social issue and illness they could think of, but it hadn’t, not even close. Instead, it had ramped up the longer they’d spent discussing all ages, genders and circumstances in life, then whittled the list down and down, all the while taking into account the capabilities of WillowGlen and the causes Ruby had held most dear. She’d admired his dogged determination to find the best possible fit. There’d been no grandstanding, only a willingness to listen, to learn and work together on a solution. Somehow, she’d managed to concentrate and keep all outward signs in line with the friendship they were forming, no touching, hugging or kissing included.

‘Children under eighteen who are dealing with grief,’ he said, as a shiver of recognition confirmed once again that this was…right.

Ethan’s gaze snared hers, his eyes darkening and the bond between them intensified, because they’d both known what that had been like.