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But even stronger than temptation was Ellie’s overwhelming sense of disorientation as he flirted with her. Seeing him in his fancy home made it hard to believe the circumstances which had brought her here. Had he really arrived at her humble room in the staff hostel and then had sex with her on that single bed? It seemed like a muddled dream to remember him pulling urgently at her clothing, like a man out of control. She remembered the anger on his face and then the sudden transformation as his rage had given way to a passion which had left her crying in his arms afterwards.
But men could feel passion in the heat of the moment and then turn it off once their appetite had been satisfied, couldn’t they? She didn’t know a whole heap about sex, but she knew that much and she had to remember that she was vulnerable as far as Alek was concerned. They might have come together as equals that day, but they weren’t really equals. She might soon be wearing his wedding ring but that was only a symbol. It didn’t mean anything. It certainly didn’t mean any of the things a wedding band was supposed to mean. She needed to keep her emotional distance. She had to, if she wanted to protect herself from getting hurt.
‘Just to be clear.’ She met the blue gleam of his eyes. ‘I meant what I said about wanting my own room. So if you’re thinking of trying to persuade me otherwise, I’m afraid you’ll be wasting your time.’
He gave a wry smile. ‘On balance, I think I agree with you. I’m beginning to think that sharing a room with you would only complicate an already complicated situation.’
Ellie felt a wave of something very feminine and contrary flaring through her as she followed him from the huge reception room. Couldn’t he at least have pretended to be disappointed, rather than appearing almost relieved? With difficulty she dragged her gaze away from his powerful back and forced herself to look at all the different things he was showing her. The plush cinema with its huge screen. The black marble fittings in the shamelessly masculine kitchen. The modern dining room, which didn’t look as if it was used very much—with tall silver candlesticks standing on a beautiful gleaming table. On the wall of his study, different clocks were lined up to show the time zones of all the world’s major cities and his desk contained a serious amount of paperwork. He explained that there was a swimming pool in the basement of the building, as well as a fully equipped gym.
The bedroom she was allocated wasn’t soft or girly—and why would it be?—but at least it was restful. The bed was big, the view spectacular. The en-suite bathroom had snowy towels and expensive bottles of bath oil and she thought about how perfect everything looked. And then there was
her. Standing there in her jeans and T-shirt, she felt like a cobweb which had blown onto a line of clean washing.
‘Do you like it?’ he questioned.
‘I can’t imagine anyone not liking it. It’s beautiful.’ She ran her fingertip along a delicate twist of coloured glass which served no useful purpose other than to capture the light and reflect it back in rainbow rays. ‘I just can’t imagine how a baby is going to fit in here.’
His gaze followed the line of her fingers. ‘Neither can I. But I wasn’t planning on having a baby when I bought this place.’
‘You didn’t think that one day you might have a family of your own? I don’t mean like this, obviously—’
‘Obviously,’ he interrupted tightly. ‘And the answer is no. Not every man feels the need to lock himself into family life—particularly when so few families are happy.’
‘That’s a very cynical point of view, Alek.’
‘You think so? Why, was your own childhood so happy?’ His gaze bore into her. ‘Let me guess. A cosy English village where everyone knew each other? A cottage with roses growing around the door?’
‘Hardly.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘I didn’t meet my father until I was eighteen and when I did I wished I hadn’t bothered.’
His eyes had narrowed. ‘Why not?’
It was a story she wasn’t proud of. Correction. It was one she was almost ashamed of. She knew it was illogical, but if you were unloved, then didn’t that automatically make you unlovable? Didn’t the fault lie within her? But she pushed that rogue thought away as she had been trying to do for most of her adult life. And there was no reason to keep secrets from Alek. She wasn’t trying to impress him, because he’d already made it clear that he no longer wanted her. And if you moved past that rather insulting fact—didn’t that mean she could be herself, instead of trying to be the person she thought she ought to be?
‘I’d hate to shock you,’ she said flippantly.
His voice was dry. ‘Believe me, I am not easily shocked.’
She watched as the filmy drapes moved in a cloud-like blur at the edges of the giant windows. ‘My father was a businessman—quite a successful one by all accounts—and my mother worked as his secretary, but she was also his...’ She shrugged as she met his quizzical expression. ‘It sounds so old-fashioned now, but she was his mistress.’
‘Ah,’ he said, in the tone of a man addressing a subject on which he was already an expert. ‘His mistress.’
‘That’s right. It was the usual thing. He set her up in a flat. He bought her clothes and in particular—underwear. They used to go out for what was euphemistically known as “lunch,” which I gather didn’t make her very popular back at the office. Sometimes he even managed to get away for part of a weekend with her, though of course she was always on her own at Christmas and during vacations. She told me all this one night when she’d been drinking.’
‘So what happened?’ he questioned, diplomatically ignoring the sudden tremble in her voice. ‘How come you came along?’
Caught up in a tale she hadn’t thought about in a long time, Ellie sat down heavily on the bed. The Egyptian cotton felt soft as she rested her palms against it and met the cool curiosity in Alek’s eyes. ‘She wanted him to divorce his wife, but he wouldn’t. He kept telling her that he’d have to wait for his children to leave home—again, the usual story. So she thought she’d give him a little encouragement.’
‘And she got pregnant?’
‘She got pregnant,’ she repeated and saw the look on his face. ‘And before you say anything—I did not set out to repeat history. Believe me, the last thing I wanted was to recreate my own childhood. What happened between us was—’
‘An accident,’ he said, almost roughly. ‘Yes, I know that. Go on.’
She’d lost the thread of what she’d been saying and it took her a couple of seconds to pick it up again. ‘I think she mistakenly thought that he’d get used to having a baby. That he might even be pleased...evidence of his virility...that kind of thing. But he wasn’t. He already had three children he was putting through school and a wife with an expensive jewellery habit. He told her...’
Ellie’s voice tailed off. She remembered that awful night of her birthday when her mother had seen off the best part of a bottle of gin and started blubbing—telling her stuff which no child should ever hear. She had buried it deep in the recesses of her own mind, but now it swam to the surface—like dark scum which had been submerged too long.
‘He told her to get rid of it. Or rather...to get rid of me,’ she said, her bright, pointless smile fading as her mother’s words reverberated round her head. And I should have listened to him! If I’d known what lay ahead, I damned well would have listened to him! ‘I think she thought he’d change his mind, but he didn’t. He stopped paying the rent on my mother’s apartment and told his wife about the affair—thus effectively curtailing any thoughts of blackmail. Then they moved to another part of the country and that was the end of that.’
