Forbidden Seduction [ Forbidden Obsession]

‘But Elena, this place is a gem, a perfect example of English neoclassicism,’ she could hear Michael protesting as he studied her stubborn expression. ‘I promise you, you’ll love it. I’ve had Tara book you onto the day after tomorrow’s Concorde flight for London. I thought you’d be pleased. You were only complaining way back in the spring how much you wanted to spend more time with your stepbrother and his wife and their son…

‘This house… Did I tell you, by the way, that the guy who inherited it just’This house… Did I tell you, by the way, that the guy who inherited it just happens to know your stepbrother and that’s how he’d got to hear about us? It seems that he was telling your stepbrother about the problems he was experiencing, having unexpectedly inherited this place, and Alex suggested that he should get in touch with me… I wasn’t too sure at first. After all, we’ve already got that pretty little Georgian place down near Brighton, but, well, I kinda felt I owed it to Lucas, so I flew over to Britain and went to have a look.’

Elena closed her eyes as she listened to Lloyd extolling the virtues of Haverton Hall.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

How could she admit to him that it wasn’t so much the house itself she objected to as its owner? Its owner…

There it was on the front page of the report… Haverton Hall… Owner… Sir Rothford Carrington. Sir Rothford now, not just Roth any longer… Not that Elena was impressed by a title. How could she be when her own stepbrother was an earl?

She had known all about Roth’s unexpected inheritance of course. It had been the subject of a good deal of discussion at Christmas, when she had gone home, not least because Roth, with an estate of his own to run, quite naturally could no longer run her stepbrother’s.

No one, least of all Roth himself, had expected that he would inherit. After all, his cousin had only been in his early forties and had seemed perfectly fit. The last thing anyone imagined was that he would suffer a fatal heart attack.

Elena had smiled politely, but without interest. The last thing, the last person she wanted to waste time talking about was Roth.

Her memories of the way he had rejected her might have been carefully and very deeply buried but… but every time she returned to her brother’s home she was painfully reminded of her eighteen-year-old self and her vulnerability.

No question about it, she must have annoyed and aggravated Roth with her unwanted adoration, but surely he could have handled the situation and her a little more gently, let her down a bit more caringly instead of…

Elena was aware that Michael was watching her expectantly. How could she, as her instincts urged her to do, totally and flatly refuse to have anything to do with Roth? She couldn’t. She was a woman now, a twenty eight years old woman who prided herself on her professionalism, a woman who along with her outward New York shine and gloss had also developed an inner self-worth and determination. She loved her work and she truly believed that what Michael and the Trust were doing was sextremely worthwhile

Secretly, there was nothing she enjoyed more than watching the houses that Michael rescued from their often pitiful state of decay being restored to their former glory… Perhaps it was idealistic and, yes, even foolishly romantic of her, but there was something about watching the process, of seeing these once grand homes rising phoenix-like from the ashes of their own neglect, that touched a chord within her.

She could well understand what motivated Michael and she suspected that, ironically, it had been that long-ago conservation scheme she had worked on under Roth’s supervision which had awakened within her the awareness of how very important it was to preserve and care for-to protect-a landscape and its architecture, which had ultimately led to her sharing Michael’s passion for their task.

However, Elena’s responsibility as an employee of the Trust included a duty not just to share micheal’s enthusiasm but to make sure as well that the Trust’s acquisitions were funded and run in a businesslike manner, and that the Trust’s money was used shrewdly and wisely and not wasted or squandered-a responsibility which Elena took very seriously. No project, and certainly no bill, was too small for Elena to break down and scrutinise very carefully indeed, a fact which caused the Trust’s accountants to comment approvingly on her attention to detail and her excellent bookkeeping.

It had been pointless for him to protest when they had been renovating the Venetian palazzo that he preferred the red silk to the gold which Elena had favoured.

‘Red is almost twice as expensive,’ she had pointed out sternly, adding as a clincher, ‘And besides, the records we’ve managed to trace all indicate that this room was originally decorated in gold and hung with gold drapes…’

‘Then gold it is, then.’ Michael had given in with a sigh, but Elena had been the one who had been forced to give in to him a few weeks later when, on their departure from Venice, Michael had presented her with a set of the most exquisite and expensive leather luggage crafted as only the Italians could craft leather.

‘michael, I can’t possibly accept this,’ Elena had protested with a small gasp.

‘Why not? It is your birthday, isn’t it?’ Michael had countered, and of course he had been right, and ultimately Elena had given in.

Although, as she had told her stepbrother defensively at Christmas when Lia had marvelled enviously at the luggage, ‘I didn’t want to accept it but Michael would have been hurt if I hadn’t.’ She’d added worriedly, ‘Lucas, do you think I should have refused…? If you…’

‘Elena, the luggage is beautiful and you did the right thing to accept it,’ lucas had reassured her gently. ‘Stop worrying, little one,’ he had reassured her gently. ‘Stop worrying, little one,’ he had commanded her.

‘Little one’! Only lucas ever called her that, and it made her feel so… so protected and safe.

Protected and safe? She was an adult, a 28years old woman, for heaven’s sake, and more than capable of protecting herself, of keeping herself safe. Irritably she dragged her attention back to the file she was holding.