Or perhaps Larenz de Luca wouldn’t even get that far. Perhaps he was simply amusing himself with her, enjoying her obvious and inexperienced reactions. Perhaps he never intended to act on any of this. She didn’t know which was more humiliating. ‘I’m afraid I’ll be busy with my duties most of the weekend,’ she told him crisply, ‘but I’m sure you’ll enjoy the relaxing solitude of Maddock Manor…especially such a busy man as yourself.’

Larenz watched her stumbling retreat with a faint, mocking little smile. ‘Am I so busy?’ he murmured and Ellery shrugged, spreading her hands wide, forgetting she was still holding a rather wicked-looking knife.

‘I’m sure—’

‘Watch that,’ Larenz murmured, his voice still lazy despite the fact that the knife’s blade had swept scant inches from his abdomen.

‘Oh—’ Ellery returned the knife to the worktop with an inelegant clatter. Her breath came out in an agitated shudder. She hated that this man affected her so much, and she hated it even more that he knew it. ‘It’s probably better,’ she managed, turning back to her bowl of eggs so she didn’t have to face him, ‘if you leave me to finish making breakfast.’

‘As you wish,’ Larenz replied. ‘But I’m going to hold you to showing me the grounds later today.’ He left before Ellery could make a response, but she already knew she had no intention of showing Larenz de Luca anything while he was here. She intended to stay completely out of his way.

The weekend seemed as if it were getting longer by the minute.

Larenz wandered through the empty reception rooms as he waited for Ellery to make his breakfast. The heavy velvet curtains were still drawn against the light, although pale autumn sunshine filtered through the cracks and highlighted the dust motes dancing in the air.

Larenz gazed around the drawing room, with its high ceiling and intricate cornices, a beautiful marble fireplace and long sash windows. It was a stately, elegant room, and if he tried he could almost see it as it had once been, grand and imposing, despite the faded carpets and moth-eaten upholstery, the peeling gilt and wide crack in the marble surround of the fireplace.

He thought he could hear Amelie upstairs rather forcefully throwing her things back into her suitcase. She had been less than pleased to be summarily dismissed from the manor.

Larenz had caught her coming out of her bedroom—she looked as if she’d had a better night’s sleep than he had—and said with a little smile, ‘I’ve been thinking about your idea of using the manor as the location for Marina’s fashion shoot. It’s a good one.’

Amelie’s lipsticked mouth curved into a satisfied smile. ‘I knew you would.’

‘And,’ Larenz added in an implacable tone, ‘I need you to head back to the office this morning to start the paperwork. I’ll deal with Ellery.’

‘Ellery, is it?’ Amelie noted, her eyes narrowing. She forced a smile. ‘Well, I for one will be glad to see the last of this hovel for a little while at least.’ Larenz felt only relief as he headed downstairs.

Now, wandering restlessly through the drawing room, Larenz thought of how Ellery had whirled around when he’d come into the kitchen that morning, surprised and jumpy and aware, and he smiled, all thoughts of Amelie wiped clean away. This weekend was going to be very interesting and, he had no doubt, very pleasurable, as well.

Ellery placed the scrambled eggs, fried mushrooms, bacon, stewed tomato and a heap of baked beans on a plate, grabbed the rack of toast and a bottle of ketchup with her free hand, and made her way into the dining room.

Somewhere in the distance a door slammed and Ellery winced at the sound of a car starting, along with the telltale spray of gravel. More ruts in the road.

‘That would be Amelie leaving,’ Larenz said pleasantly. He stepped from the shadows of the dining room where he’d been standing. Hiding, more like, Ellery thought. At least this time she didn’t jump.

‘In a hurry, is she?’ she asked dryly. She ignored the sudden pounding of her heart and the fact that her mind—and body—were very aware that she and Larenz de Luca were now alone. She placed the food on the table and turned around to fetch the coffee. ‘I’ll be right back.’

‘You are getting a plate for yourself, I hope?’ Larenz enquired. A frisson of feeling—could it possibly be hope—shivered through Ellery. She stiffened, her back to him. ‘I prefer not to eat alone,’ Larenz clarified, a hint of laughter in his voice.

‘I eat in the kitchen,’ she said without turning around.

‘Then allow me to join you.’

She heard Larenz reach for his plate, the clank of cutlery as he scooped up his dishes, quite prepared to follow her into the kitchen. Slowly Ellery turned around. ‘What exactly do you want from me, Mr de Luca?’