One Night 14
She and the fling she had, had never actually been lovers, although she knew that very few people would believe that, nor had she ever used drugs; but she had been tainted by his lifestyle, had had her eyes opened painfully to certain harsh realities of life, and after lucas had interceded for her with her mother and with the university authorities, getting her a place at Vassar where she had been able to complete her education, she had promised herself that she would pay him and Mia back for their kindness and their love and support by showing the world and her detractors just how worthy of that support she was. At Vassar she had gained a reputation as something of a recluse and a swot; dates and parties had been strictly out of bounds so far as she was concerned and her dedication had paid off with excellent exam results.
And now, just as she had once felt the need to prove herself to Lucas and Mia, she felt a corresponding need to prove herself worthy of Michael’s trust in her professional abilities. It was true that sometimes she did drive herself too hard… but the scornful verbal sketch of herself that Roth had just drawn for her quite illogically hurt.
Given that she had striven so hard to be considered wholly professional, to be capable and strong, it was quite definitely illogical, she knew, to wish forlornly that Roth might have adopted a more protective and less critical attitude towards her, that he might have shown more concern, some tenderness, some…
‘Why the hell didn’t you say you weren’t feeling well?’
Roth’s curt demand broke into her thoughts, underlining their implausibility, their stupidity, their dangerous vulnerability.
‘Why should I have done?’ Elena countered defensively, adding tersely, ‘I hardly think that either the Trust or the owners of the properties it acquires would thank me for wasting both time and consequently money by bringing up
the subject of my own health during business discussions. You and I may know one another from the past, Roth, but so far as I am concerned the fact that we have dealings with one another in the present is entirely down to the business
and professional relationship between us.’
It was several seconds before Roth bothered to respond to her unrehearsed but determinedly distancing little speech, and for a moment Elena thought that he was actually going to ignore what she had said, but then he turned towards her
and said, ‘So what you’re saying is that it’s to be purely business between us, is that it?’
It took every ounce of courage that Elena possessed, and then some, for her to be able to meet the look he was giving her full-on, but somehow or other she managed to do so, even if the effort left her perilously short of breath and withMaterial © NôvelDrama.Org.
her heart pounding almost as painfully as her head, She agreed coolly, ‘Yes.’ Roth was the one to look away first, his face hardening as he glanced briefly at her mouth before doing so.
‘Well, if that’s what you want, so be it,’ he told her crisply, returning his attention to his driving.
His response, instead of making her feel relieved, left her feeling… What?
Disappointed that he hadn’t challenged her, hadn’t given her the opportunity to… to what? Argue with him? Why should she want to? What was it she felt she had to prove? What was it she wanted to be given the opportunity to prove?
Angry with herself, elena shook her head. There was nothing, of course. She had made her point, said what she wanted to say and now Roth knew exactly how she viewed their working relationship and exactly how she viewed him. He
could be in no doubt that, were it not for the fact that he was the owner of a property the Trust had decided to acquire, she would have no cause, nor any wish, to be involved with him.
Up ahead of her she could see a grove, a small wooded area; Roth drove into it and through it towards the mellow high red-brick wall and through its open gates.
The house which lay beyond them took Elena’s breath away. She was used to grand and beautiful properties, to elegance of design, to scenery and settings so spectacular that one had to blink and look again, but this was something else.
This was a house as familiar to her as though she had already walked every one of its floors, as though she knew each and every single one of its rooms, its
corners. This was a house, the house she had created for herself as a girlhood fantasy. A house, the house, the home which would house and protect the family she so much longed to be a part of. Totally bemused, she couldn’t drag her gaze away from its red-brick walls, her professional eye automatically noting the symmetrical perfection of its
Georgian windows and the delicacy of the pretty fanlight above the doorway. An ancient wisteria clothed the facing wall, its trunk and branches silvery grey against the rich warmth of the brick; its flowering season was now over but its soft green tendrils of leaves were coolly restful to her aching eyes. Prior to her mother’s second marriage to Lucas’s father, they had lived in a smart apartment in Belgravia-her mother had been a very social person, involved, as she still was, in a good many charities and a keen bridge player, but Elena had never really felt comfortable or at home in the elegant London flat. Before his death her father had owned a large house in one of London’s squares and She still missed the freedom that living there had given her.
To comfort herself she had created her perfect house and the perfect family to go with it, mother, father, daughter-herself, plus a sister for her to play with and a brother too, along with grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins