Free The Undoing of de Luca by Kate Hewitt Page B

myself that all evening.’
    Ellery felt that curious squeezing sensation in her chest once more and for a few seconds it was difficult to take a breath. She rummaged in a cupboard for the requested brandy. ‘I think it’s here somewhere…’ She was so very conscious of Larenz behind her, of the tension tautening between them and uncoiling in her own belly. She was conscious of her own rising need; the intervening moments had not stemmed it. She still felt. She still wanted.
    She tried to keep her voice light as she asked, ‘Where were you all afternoon? Did you go touring?’
    ‘You could say that. I drove.’
    ‘Drove where?’ The conversation was utterly inane and made even more so by the fact that she didn’t care what his answers were. Speaking was simply a way of keeping herself from doing something far more desperate—and desirable.
    She finally found the brandy in the bottom of the pantry, the bottle dusty but the amber liquid still glinting in the light. ‘Here you are.’
    Larenz took it, his fingers wrapping around the neck of the bottle and over Ellery’s own hand. His gaze locked with hers, dark and unrelenting, and every thought flew from Ellery’s head. She was trapped by that gaze and she had the strange sensation that Larenz was as trapped by it—by this—as she was. Ellery didn’t move. She couldn’t. She knew if he kissed her now she wouldn’t resist. She wouldn’t want to.
    And why should she? She’d been locked up in this Manor, keeping it like some kind of shrine to a family, a life that had never really existed, for six long months. She wanted to stop, if only for a night. Stop thinking, fearing, hiding.
    And start living. Larenz was here, his eyes were on hers, his lips parted, his expression hungry and intense, and suddenly Ellery knew exactly what she wanted.
    This.
    She let go of the bottle, not thinking of it or anything but her own need and the answering look in Larenz’s eyes, and somehow it slipped, shattering at their feet. Yet neither of them even reacted to the broken glass and spreading liquid, the pungent smell of alcohol rising up towards them. Something far more dangerous was happening.
    Ellery didn’t know who kissed who first. She didn’t care. All that mattered was that she’d found her way into Larenz’s arms and he was kissing her, his lips hot and hungry on hers as her arms wound around his neck, her fingers threading through his hair as she pulled him closer, and closer still—how she needed this…
    ‘The glass—’
    ‘I’ll clean it up later,’ she mumbled, turning her head to find his lips once more, eager and greedy. She felt Larenz smile against her mouth.
    ‘I prefer not to need to have stitches,’ he murmured, and in one easy graceful movement he’d swept her into an embrace, carrying her out of the kitchen and up the Manor’s sweeping staircase. He held her easily, as if she were weightless, and Ellery felt like a doll in his arms, small and treasured.
    ‘Where’s your bedroom?’ he asked, and then shook his head. ‘On second thoughts, forget it. If your bedroom was anything like mine last night, I don’t want to go there.’
    ‘Worse,’ Ellery admitted.
    ‘What’s the warmest place in the house?’
    Ellery’s heart squeezed again. Yes, she wanted this—she really did—but, now that the heated moment in the kitchen had cooled just a little, she was left wondering and afraid once more. Just what was she getting herself into? ‘The master bedroom, I suppose,’ she answered after a moment, ‘or the drawing room when the fire is on—’ Her voice wobbled just a little bit. Ellery closed her eyes in embarrassment.
    ‘You’re getting cold feet, aren’t you?’ Larenz placed her back on the floor so her body slid sensuously against his, his hands still on her shoulders, until her feet touched the ground. She swayed towards him and he reached up to tilt her chin with one finger so she was forced to meet his gaze.