Page 17 of Dangerous Temptation

Dinner was … unexpected. As on edge as Elena was, the evening turned out to be precisely as advertised.

When she relaxed enough to forget herself, the meal was pleasant.

With Leonard and Marta hovering nearby, it wasn’t the time or the place for pointed questions or fireworks of any kind.

She’d forgotten herself with Alex the other day.

She was on guard for any signs of manipulation or innuendo, yet all she could detect were signs of a handsome, well-mannered dinner date.

Marta’s meal of cider-roasted chicken, asparagus, and mushroom risotto also made her forget her nervous stomach.

With Alex supplying more white wine, the experience was a delight for Elena’s taste buds.

She’d been living on cereal and peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches.

She could cook, but she’d been more intent on working.

It felt wonderful to sit back and enjoy food that had been prepared by someone who obviously loved her craft.

The fact that the meal was in an idyllic setting didn’t hurt.

She was still amazed at the little breakfast nook that she’d somehow overlooked.

The circular room sat out on the balcony, off the kitchen.

The open archway had a door with a rounded top that could be closed for privacy.

Other doors opened onto the terrace. They were closed against the weather, and the small room took on the feeling of a gazebo, complete with heat and electricity.

They’d used very little of the latter.

A chandelier lit the table, but it had been dialled down to low and candles provided most of the illumination.

They were placed in sconces on the walls, and the ambiance brought her back to times of knights, ladies and castles.

Times of chivalry and passion. Out on the balcony, she could hear the howl of the wind and the waves hitting the shore.

The darkness would have seemed threatening if they hadn’t been nestled in the safety and warmth of the little room.

‘When was this house built?’ she asked. She’d avoided the manor as much as she could, but now that she was being given access to some of its more unique features she was becoming intrigued.

‘In 1892 by Josiah Wolfe.’

‘How many greats before that grandfather?’

One of Alex’s eyebrows rose and the corner of his mouth followed. ‘Too many for me to count, especially with all the wine I’ve drunk.’

The 2008 Montrachet had been flowing. It made everything seem to go down more easily.

Everything, and that made Elena a little nervous.

She smoothed the linen napkin over her lap. She knew who he was and she knew what he’d done, yet he could be charming.

Like a beautiful wolf who wanted to be petted.

Warning signs had been flashing in her head, but now they were dim and fading.

He was surprising her. She’d expected the conversation to continue in that stilted, uncomfortable manner they seemed to have perfected, but the truce they’d made upstairs was holding.

So far, they’d managed to be on their best behaviour.

They’d stayed away from sensitive subjects, which were many and varied, and kept mainly to current affairs, apart from his release, which had taken over the airwaves.

He seemed hungry for news of the world, or at least someone to discuss it with.

He asked for her impressions, how the public had reacted to certain events and why things had turned out in certain ways.

Elena was amazed to find herself just as eager for conversation.

He wasn’t the only one who’d been isolated from other people.

It had been ages since someone had valued her opinion, and she was interested in more than just the stock market.

She was leaning forward to press her point about the Yankees’ playoff hopes when a candle over his shoulder flared, seemingly at her.

The admonition cooled her enthusiasm. This was Alex Wolfe. He wasn’t her friend.

‘Excuse me.’ They both looked up when a shadow was cast across the dinner table.

‘Yes, Leonard?’ Alex asked.

‘May I take your plates, sir?’

Her host looked at her dessert plate. ‘Are you finished?’

Elena set down her fork. The Bailey’s-and-cream cheesecake had been rich and silky. ‘It’s delicious, but I can’t take another bite.’

‘Marta will be pleased that you enjoyed it,’ Leonard said.

Elena tilted her head. She didn’t know the cook well, but she was becoming fond of her. ‘Will you thank her for me? That risotto just melted in my mouth.’

Alex drummed his fingers against the arm of his chair. ‘I believe you just told her yourself. Didn’t she, Marta?’

At his raised voice, the cook shuffled around the corner. Her hands fisted in her apron and she gave a quick curtsy. ‘Thank you, dear. I wasn’t given much notice you were coming so I had to make do with what I had on hand.’

Elena smiled. ‘I’d love to see what you could whip up with the Mac-’n’-cheese and pretzels I have at the lake house.’

Marta grinned. ‘I do have a casserole recipe …’

‘Will you need anything else from us tonight?’ Leonard asked as he cleared the dishes.

‘That should be all.’ Alex laid his napkin on the table. ‘Thank you. Be careful on your drives home.’

‘Then goodnight to both of you,’ the butler said with a stiff bow.

Marta gave another shallow curtsy, which was actually just a wiggle of her plump knees. ‘Sir … Ma’am.’

Elena didn’t know what brought her back to earth harder, being called ‘ma’am’ or the fact that the staff was leaving.

She watched them go. Suddenly nervous, she hooked her hair behind her ear, only to find it already caught in the barrette.

Uncertain what to do, she clasped her hands in her lap.

She hadn’t anticipated having such a nice time, but that didn’t mean she’d forgotten she was having dinner with a sexy, dangerous man.

As comfortable as she’d been in his presence, she hadn’t lost the goosebumps where he’d touched her back …

or the tickles where his breath had brushed over her neck …

She glanced across the empty table. In the candlelight, he was even more dark and mysterious. Handsome and tempting.

‘More wine?’ he asked, lifting the bottle from the wine bucket at his elbow. Between the two of them, they’d nearly finished it off.

She could already feel the languor in her muscles and the cloudiness in her head. More wine was not a good idea. ‘I should be going, too.’

‘It’s early.’

It really wasn’t. ‘I need to be up first thing in the morning. I have some research I need to do.’

‘The book?’

She pushed back her chair. ‘The book.’

He was out of his chair and helping her before she recognised the old-fashioned gesture.

Once she did, she placed her hand in his and rose to her feet.

He hovered over her, tall and muscled. Balancing in her high heels suddenly became tricky, and she tugged at her dress, which had risen too high on her thighs.

His gaze slid over the exposed flesh like a warm stroke and she quivered.

‘Thank you for dinner,’ she said.

‘You’re welcome.’ He didn’t step back. ‘It’s gotten rather nasty out there. Are you sure you want to make that walk?’

She glanced at the windows. The wind was whipping. Trees were dancing and the mist had turned into streaks of rain.

‘All the more reason for me to hurry along.’ In the small room, she couldn’t help but brush against him as she moved towards the archway. She was surprised to find the kitchen empty when she entered. ‘Are they gone already? I didn’t hear the door.’

‘The staff parks in the enclosed garage downstairs.’

The emptiness of the house seemed to echo then. All this richly adorned space for only the two of them? It seemed greedy somehow. Indulgent, yet intimate.

The hollowness loomed, like a well Elena was afraid to fall into.

She had to get away from the edge.

Her heels clipped against the tiled flooring as she walked to the coat rack. Once again, he got there first to assist her.

‘I’m not used to men with manners,’ she said self-consciously.

‘You should be.’

She pushed her arms into the jacket he held for her. When she went to release her hair, his hands were already there. He lifted the dark swath with care, sliding his fingers through it as he smoothed it down her back.

‘Your hair is mesmerising,’ he said quietly.

Her crowning feature, as her mother called it.

Elena looked at the floor, trying to get herself under control.

Her body wanted to lean back into him, but the track lighting in the kitchen was so much brighter than the candlelight she’d adjusted to.

It made everything seem so exposed, so glaring.

So judgmental. She cinched up her trenchcoat. ‘Thank you.’

He traced her barrette. ‘Why don’t you spend the night? You’re going to get drenched if you head back to the lake house, and there are plenty of extra rooms here.’

‘I’ll run quick.’

‘In those heels? They’re sassy as hell, but they’re not good for a trek in the mud.’

She licked her dry lips. He’d noticed her shoes. ‘I’ll be fine.’

‘All right then.’ He took another jacket from the coat rack, and her head snapped towards him.

‘The least I can do is walk you there.’

‘But … OK,’ she conceded. The book that she was using as an excuse was lying on the counter. Leonard had wrapped it for her. She caught it up against her chest like a shield, such as the knights of old carried for protection.

She waited for Alex to put on his jacket and then opened the door. The wind was waiting. Seeing an opening, it rushed in. The chill smacked into her face and rain splattered against her legs. She wasn’t prepared for the force of it and the door swung back, knocking into her.

‘Ooh.’ She sucked in a surprised breath. Cringing at the thought of going out into that, she nonetheless ducked her head and started forward.

She jerked when the wolf behind her reached past and shoved the door closed, blocking out the howl that threatened.

‘Stay.’