AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She stared at him indignantly. If he hadn’t wanted anything to do with her then why had he chosen to use her uncle’s firm? Only of course he didn’t know it was Edmund’s business. He didn’t even know her uncle’s name, let alone what he did for a living. She shivered. Somehow now didn’t seem like the best time to tell him.
Trying to ignore the pounding of her heart, she swallowed. ‘I know how you hate being responsible for anything, but this is your mess.’
‘And we both know how you hate mess, Prudence,’ he said smoothly.
‘I didn’t care about the stupid trailer!’ she snapped, her temper rising. ‘You just focused on that and wouldn’t listen to me. It wasn’t a criticism of you, or your precious Willerby Westmorland! It’s just who I am.’ Her heart was thumping so hard it hurt. ‘I don’t like mess. I like things tidy and in order and that’s why I’m good at my job. Maybe if you’d thought about that instead of sneering at me—’
‘I’m not sneering, pireni.’ His face shifted, and meeting her angry gaze, he shrugged. ‘And you’re right. Maybe I did focus on that remark—’
He stopped and Prudence gaped at him speechlessly. Was that some kind of apology?
His eyes locked with hers and he sighed. ‘But I’m not going to change my mind, Prudence. You do understand that, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ she said stiffly. ‘But, given that it’s probably not just your decision to make, I’ve decided it doesn’t matter.’
Laszlo frowned. ‘You think there’s a higher authority than me?’
His eyes gleamed with sudden amusement and she felt her stomach flip over.
‘I hope so—for Mr de Zsadany’s sake.’ Wondering again if Janos knew of her relationship with Laszlo, she felt a stab of pain. He was such a fraud. Why, if he’d believed himself to be married, had he kept her existence secret?
Forcing herself to stay focused, she lifted her chin. ‘Seymour’s is the best there is. Giving this job to another firm would only demonstrate how unqualified you are to have anything to do with the cataloguing.’ Hers eyes flashed challengingly at him. ‘I mean, you don’t even like art!’
‘I appreciate beauty as much as the next man,’ Laszlo said softly.
‘Really?’ Prudence retorted. ‘How do you work that out? The only time we went to see an exhibition together you spent your entire time in the café.’
Laszlo shrugged, his gaze sweeping slowly over her face until heat suffused her skin.
‘I can think of better things to do in a darkened room. You, of all people, should know that.’
Prudence stared at him, trembling, dry-mouthed; her body suddenly a mass of hot, aching need. He let the silence lengthen, let the tension rise between them.
‘Or have you forgotten?’ he murmured finally. ‘Perhaps I should jog your memory.’
He watched her eyes widen and felt his groin tighten in response. But almost immediately he closed his mind to the tormenting tug of hunger.
‘But I digress. I don’t need to like art, Prudence. I just want to support my grandfather and be there for him—’
‘Good luck with that!’ Prudence interrupted him crossly. ‘Being there for someone generally requires an element of reliability or commitment, you know.’
She glared at him as his gaze rested on her accusing face.
‘Meaning...?’ he asked slowly.
‘Meaning that you can’t commit to the next five minutes.’ She stared at him incredulously. ‘Don’t you know yourself at all? Trying to pin you down to a time and place is like asking you to give up your soul or something.’
A slight upturn of amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth. ‘Ah, but at least you admit I have a soul.’
And then suddenly he smiled, and it felt like the sun on her face. Despite her brain warning her not to, it was impossible not to smile back—for it was a glimpse of the Laszlo she had loved so very much. The Laszlo who, when he chose, had been able to make her laugh until she cried. But then her smile faded and she reminded herself that this Laszlo had cold-heartedly used his power to avenge himself, regardless of the consequences to her or her family.
She frowned. ‘Life can’t always be improvised. Sometimes you have to do boring things too—like learn lines and turn up on set on time.’
Laszlo stared at her, a muscle working in his jaw. ‘You’re comparing our relationship to a film?’
‘Yes. I am.’ Prudence lifted her chin. ‘A very unmemorable silent film, with poor casting and no plot.’
She felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck as he smiled again and shook his head slowly.
