Page 22 of Vows Made in Secret


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Laszlo studied her in silence. Had he really thought she would sleep with him? And would he have respected her if she had? He smiled grimly. Would he have respected himself? After all, he’d kissed her twice in twenty-four hours, each time telling himself it was the last time—each time, telling himself it was a mistake, that whatever desire he felt was just some reflex kicking in...a habit from the past. But why, if that were true, did he want to keep on repeating those mistakes? And go on repeating them.

He felt his body stir again and frowned. His mistake had been to believe he was over her—for he saw now that, like a virus in his blood, his longing for her had simply lain dormant until she’d walked back into his life yesterday and turned him inside out.

His jaw tightened. He needed some way to cure himself of this sexual power she had over him. Only he was so wound up he was finding it hard to think. All he knew was that his body was pulsing with frustration.

‘Okay,’ he said finally. He watched her breathe out. ‘Look. We’ve both had a lot to take in. And we’re still coming to terms with—’ he waved his hand towards the roof of the barn ‘—everything. So I think we should cut ourselves a bit of slack. How about we go up to the castle and have some breakfast?’

Prudence nodded wordlessly. Her brain was in overdrive. Why had she said she ‘might’ be married to Laszlo? And why did the thought of being his wife make her stomach turn over and over in helpless response to him? Her mouth tightened. It was foolish and distracting. Even if she accepted his version of events, it was still not something of which she needed to be reminded. Particularly as she seemed determined to give in to the intense sexual chemistry between them at every opportunity.

Pushing back her shoulders, she reached behind her neck and smoothed her hair into a ponytail. Her body clearly had very poor judgement when it came to men and she would need to be on her guard at all times—otherwise this arrangement simply wouldn’t work. And that was what she was here to do: work. Not concoct some parallel life in which she and Laszlo were happily married.

She realised that he had spoken again. ‘Sorry—what did you say?’

He stared at her speculatively. ‘I said that I’ll introduce you to my grandfather after breakfast. And then we can sort out where you’re going to sleep. It shouldn’t be a problem. We have twenty bedrooms at the castle. Eighteen spare, that is.’

His groin tightened painfully as an image of her lying naked beside him in his bed slid into his head and he took a deep breath. Maybe their sleeping under the same roof was not such a good idea after all. Not unless he was prepared to sleep standing upright under a cold shower.

Prudence was clearly having the same thought.

‘Why don’t I just stay in a hotel?’ she said quickly.

‘That won’t be necessary.’

A muscle flickered in his cheek. There was another option—only up until that moment the mere thought of suggesting it would have appalled him. But nothing was the same any more. Looking up at Prud

ence, he cleared his throat. ‘There’s an empty cottage on the estate. It’s small. But it’s clean and private and a lot cosier than the castle.’

His eyes blazed.

‘Just don’t get too cosy! As soon as the cataloguing is complete I want you out of my life and I never want to see you again.’

CHAPTER FIVE

‘AND THIS IS one of my favourite pieces in the entire collection!’ Janos de Zsadany took a step back and stared intently at the portrait of a girl clutching an open green fan. ‘Annuska and I gave this to Zsofia for her sixteenth birthday.’ He turned towards Prudence and gave the faintest of smiles. ‘I think secretly she’d been hoping for a horse. But thankfully she was enchanted.’

Prudence gazed at the portrait. ‘It’s beautiful!’ she said slowly. ‘Were you specifically looking for a Henri?’

Janos shook his head. ‘No. Not at all. But when Annuska and I saw this painting we both knew it was the one. She reminded us so much of Zsofia. Not just in colouring. It’s her expression.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘My daughter often used to look at me like that. You know—that mixture of love and exasperation.’

Prudence bit her lip. She had suddenly realised that they weren’t talking about some random young woman but Laszlo’s mother. ‘I’m sure it was just her age,’ she said hesitantly.

She felt suddenly sick with guilt. Janos was talking so openly about such a private matter with the woman who was secretly married to his grandson. But what choice did she have? She sighed. It had been easy enough to agree with Laszlo not to discuss their marriage with anyone. It was not even that hard to convince herself that it was all for the best. Only now, faced with Janos’s gentle courtesy, their subterfuge made her feel shabby and sly.

She sucked in a breath and managed a polite smile. ‘Whatever your reasons, it was a good choice, Mr de Zsadany.’

Janos laughed. ‘I think so too.’ He beamed at her. ‘I think we’re going to get along very well, Miss Elliot.’ He frowned. ‘But could I suggest we do away with all these formalities, or we’ll spend most of our time together repeating each other’s names. Please call me Janos!’

Smiling, she shook his hand. ‘Prudence,’ she said firmly. ‘And thank you, Janos, for making me feel so welcome.’

He bowed. ‘No. Thank you for making this happen. You’ve made an old man very happy. And, as sorry as I am that Seymour was unable to be here, I’m in no way disappointed by his replacement. Don’t worry, though! I won’t tell anyone. It can be our little secret.’

‘A remote castle in Hungary and a beautiful woman with a secret. How intriguing! It sounds like the plot for some kind of historical romance.’

They both turned to find Laszlo watching them from the doorway. His eyes fixed on Prudence and then his gaze shifted to his grandfather, his face softening into a smile.

‘So!’ He walked into the room and stopped in front of the painting, frowning. ‘What’s the big secret, then?’

He was still smiling, but his voice was blunt—like a knife against a whetstone. Since her arrival he’d been tormented by dreams of Prudence naked in the barn, and yet every time he’d met her she’d been polite but glacially remote. His smile tightened. It was an icy aloofness that appeared to be reserved only for him, for she’d established a sweetly flirtatious rapport with his grandfather.

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