Free The Undoing of de Luca by Kate Hewitt

Without even realizing she was doing so, she let out a small choked sound that was far too close to a sob.
    Damn her father for making her love him so much. Damn him for hiding so much from her. Damn him for dying, and damn him for making her the kind of woman she was now, alone and afraid to love.
    Damn. Damn. Damn.
    Ellery lifted her hands to swipe at the revealing moisture at the corner of her eyes. She drew in a desperate breath and let it out again; she needed to regain some composure, some control. Ever since Larenz had breezed into her life—just a little over twenty-four hours ago—she felt as if both had been slipping away from her. Why did he affect her so much? Why did she let him?
    She let out another long, slow breath and then resolutely covered the Rolls back up. Perhaps she would sell it. Forty thousand pounds would, as Larenz had said, go a long way.
    As she turned towards the barn door, feeling her way with careful slowness, the pale beam of the torch barely cutting a swathe through the unrelenting darkness, she wondered where he was. Was he coming back? Had he breezed out of her life as quickly and easily as he’d breezed into it, simply because she wasn’t the easy affair he’d counted on?
    Why was she disappointed?
    Then every thought flew from her head as a body tackled her, slamming her hard against the barn door, and the torch fell from her hand.
    Ellery didn’t realize she’d screamed—and was still screaming—until a hand covered her mouth. Even in the midst of her terror and shock she was conscious of a familiar citrusy scent.
    ‘Larenz?’ she said, the words muffled against the hand still covering her mouth.
    She heard what could only be a curse muttered in Italian. The hand dropped from her mouth, and she saw Larenz bend to pick up the torch. He shone it in her face, and she squinted in the sudden light.
    ‘What are you doing—’
    ‘What are you doing,’ Larenz demanded, his voice sounding almost raw, ‘out in the barn at one o’clock in the morning? I thought you were a thief—or worse.’
    ‘And you didn’t think to ask questions first?’ Ellery retorted. She rubbed her shoulder, which had hit the door hard. She would most certainly have a bruise.
    ‘Where I come from, you ask questions second,’ Larenz said roughly. He shone the torch up and down, inspecting her body. Ellery was uncomfortably aware that she was wearing her dressing gown and wellies. Not the most enticing combination. ‘Are you all right?’
    ‘A bit bruised,’ she admitted. ‘Didn’t you consider I might be inspecting my own property?’
    ‘In the middle of the night? No.’ Larenz paused, the torch still trained on her body. ‘I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you.’
    Ellery stilled, surprised and even moved by the contrition in Larenz’s voice. ‘It’s all right,’ she said after a moment. ‘I was about to go inside, anyway.’
    She started to move away from the door but Larenz stilled her, one hand on her shoulder. ‘Ellery, why were you out here? Were you looking at the car?’
    Ellery heard a note in his voice she didn’t like, couldn’t like. It was the gentle note of compassion, and it spoke of a song she couldn’t bear to hear. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them furiously away.
    ‘Perhaps I am thinking of selling it,’ she said roughly and pushed past him.
    She couldn’t make her way in the dark without stumbling and possibly even hurting herself more so Ellery was obliged to wait for Larenz to catch up. Silently, he handed her the torch and she took it with stiff dignity. They walked back through the muddy gardens without speaking.
    Once in the kitchen, Ellery shed her boots and went automatically to the big copper kettle on the range. She desperately needed a cup of tea, or perhaps something even stronger.
    ‘You should ice your shoulder.’
    She stiffened. ‘It’s really not necessary.’
    ‘I slammed you rather hard against the door,’ Larenz