behave as the mature professional of twenty-four she was. But Pierce seemed to be able to strip away the intervening years with a glance, reducing her once more to the gauche and rather prickly adolescent she had been when they had first met, a situation that was made all the worse by the knowledge that her foolish dreams had been just that—fantasies, without a hope of coming true.
‘And you were never exactly a regular visitor even when you lived in Ellerby. That would be too much like slumming for the Lord of the Manor. I can’t imagine what brings you here—’
‘You know I always hated that nickname!’ Pierce’s words cut in on her, cold and hard as his expression. ‘If I’m not welcome, you only have to say.’
Already he was turning away. He was perfectly capable of leaving without another word, Natalie realised—prepared to walk out of her life as easily as he had strolled back into it, and with no further explanation. Stern common sense said she should let him go, but her heart cried out in protest at the thought. It was almost three years since she had last seen him. If he went now, would she ever see him again?
‘Well, now you’re here, the least I can do is offer you a cup of coffee!’ she said, pushing aside her hesitation as she opened the door wider. ‘Come in before you freeze, and...’
Her voice faded as she turned from closing the door to find him standing so close behind her that her arm brushed against his as she moved. In the dark confines of the hallway, he seemed somehow bigger, much more forceful than ever before, making her feel even less than her average five feet five. The lean, strong frame seemed to fill the small space so completely that she was suddenly gripped by the unnerving feeling of being trapped alongside some powerful jungle cat, with no idea when or even if it planned to pounce on its potential prey.
‘Go into the living room,’ she said hastily, knowing she sounded as disturbed as she felt. She could think of no possible reason why Pierce should seek her out like this after all this time. ‘there a fire in there; it’ll soon warm you up.’
The unexpected tension that had tugged at her nerves also drove her to switch on the main overhead light as she followed him into the room, not feeling at ease with the shadows cast by her small desk lamp. Her first sight of Pierce in the sudden brightness had her taking a step back in surprise.
‘Are you all right?’
He looked dreadful, she acknowledged privately, his skin drawn tight over the strong bones of his face in a way that etched lines around his mouth and eyes, and the pallor she had noted earlier and now saw was not just a trick of the moonlight made him look drained and haggard, an effect that was aggravated by the dark stubble that shadowed his cheeks.
‘Just tired.’
Pierce rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes, but not before she had glimpsed, and worried over, the unnatural, almost feverish glitter that burned in their sapphire depths.
‘The motorway was hellish—the world and his wife seemed to be on their way to somewhere from somewhere tonight.’
‘Everyone would be trying to get home at the last minute after the holiday, I suppose.’ Taking her cue from his casual dismissal of her concern, Natalie tried to make her words sound light and more relaxed than she actually felt. ‘They’d want to be back in time for school tomorrow.’
‘Yeah, that’d be it—I’d forgotten it was half-term.’
The blue eyes went to the desk in the corner, the clutter of papers highlighted by the glow of the lamp, and he frowned swiftly.
‘Oh, hell—I’m sorry—you were working and I’ve interrupted you.’
‘Not at all! I’d just finished.’
Mentally Natalie crossed her fingers against the white lie. Every instinct she possessed told her something was wrong—because she didn’t believe that ‘old friends’ routine for one moment.
‘So—can I get you something to drink? Coffee?’
‘I’d rather have something stronger if you’ve got it.’
‘There’s only sherry.’
‘Sherry will be fine.’
It was as she handed him the drink that another thought occurred to her, making her wonder if in fact alcohol was the best thing for him.
‘Have you eaten?’ It was the question she should have asked before she had poured him the sherry, she told herself reprovingly.
‘Not since lunch. I didn’t want to waste time by stopping for food—I wanted to get away from London as quickly as possible.’
‘Was it as bad as that?’
‘You’d better believe it.’ Pierce took a swallow of his drink and she was glad to see that a trace of colour returned to his cheeks. ‘I broke the speed limit almost all the way here.’
Which seemed to imply much more than just a casual visit home—and Pierce’s beloved Porsche was capable of some very high speeds indeed. That thought had Natalie moving hastily to the window, twitching aside the curtain and looking down into the street, concerned for the safety of the expensive vehicle. This area of town suffered particularly from the problem of joyriders. As he watched her, Pierce’s mouth twisted sharply.
‘You needn’t worry.’ The dark irony of his tone stung bitterly. ‘I parked the car a couple of streets away. No one will know that I’m here.’
‘That wasn’t what was bothering me.’
‘Oh, wasn’t it?’
His voice was harsher now, dangerously reminiscent of the anger that had been in it on the night of her eighteenth birthday, the night that had finally destroyed any chance that she and Pierce could ever regard each other as anything remotely resembling friends.
‘According to you, you’re the one with the reputation to lose.’
If his earlier comment had distressed her, this one actually had her mouth opening on a shocked gasp, a rush of anger driving away any pain it might have brought.
‘And what about you?’ Natalie retorted. ‘Don’t you think it might damage your reputation to be seen calling on—?’
‘On one of the lowly peasants on the family estate?’
The coldly drawled question had Natalie taking an instinctive step or two backwards away from him. She had only ever seen Pierce in this sort of mood once before and it had frightened her then as it did now.
‘On the contrary, my dear Natalie, I would have thought that it would very much enhance my reputation if people knew I was here.’
His intonation had changed again. This time the words were smokily sensuous, seeming to coil round her thoughts, clouding them, mesmerising her.
‘What about the droit du seigneur that I’m supposed to lay claim to—the one thing I want from innocents like you?’
Inwardly, Natalie winced in response to his deliberate reminder of the words she had flung at him long ago, in a haze of hurt and anger. Then, as now, he had smiled as he spoke, but without any real warmth, his mood seeming light-years away from anything even vaguely resembling amusement, except of the darkest, harshest kind.
‘After all, Ellerby is positively medieval in so many of its attitudes—don’t you think that as Lord of the Manor I should be able to take my pick of the local village maidens?’
‘Pierce—’ Natalie tried huskily but he ignored her and, with that smile that made her think fearfully of a lazy tiger indolently surveying its prey, moved smoothly and silently to her side, lifting one hand to brush the backs of his fingers slowly down her cheek, making her shiver in involuntary response.
‘If I can find any—maidens, that is,’ he went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “They’re something of a rarity these days. Most modern girls are so knowing—sure of themselves—so—’