Modern Romance March 2020 Books 5-8

I wanted more—oh, much more than what we had! So much more! But I didn’t dare say it—didn’t dare think it.

But now—oh, now she dared. Dared to do more still.

Now, finally, I dare to admit what I feel for him! Not just friendship—not just desire. But love.

Wonder filled her. She had married him out of duty and yet love had been waiting for her all along!

As she gazed at him, her heart full, she veiled her eyes lest her love blaze out too brightly. She must take this gently—the revelation was still too new, too fresh.

Leon had said no word of love to her—but if she had only just realised the depths of her feelings for him she must allow that he, like her, might not yet think in those terms.

But surely he would one day? Surely she had every reason to hope that he would move to that same glorious realisation?

He has said he wants ours to be a real marriage—and what else is a real marriage but one based on love?

He needed time, that was all—she was sure of it. Time to discover, as she had done, just how deeply he felt about her. And she would be waiting for him when he did so—when he gave his love to her and she gave him hers.

A glow set about her, radiating her happiness.

‘Not tame at all,’ Leon was saying.

She brought her mind back to the subject in question, away from that golden image in her imagination of Leon clasping her to him and saying how infinitely he loved her!

‘So, whereabouts in England should we start looking?’ he went on. ‘Your mother and stepfather live in Somerset—is that right? Would that be a good place to look first? All I know about it is that it’s famous for cider. We could have a cider orchard of our own.’

Settling near Lady Connie and her bluff husband would be no problem for him, he mused. As for the ex-Grand Duke—well, he was welcome to sponge off him for the rest of his life with his compliments. It was of no account to him.

Only Ellie mattered. His wonderful, wonderful wife Ellie—with whom he was going to spend the rest of his life and be happy every single day of it! Nothing could stop that now.

Because our marriage is based on what is honest and true—not on deceit and delusion. So it will stand the test of time. Stand all tests.

‘Somerset’s beautiful!’ Ellie replied enthusiastically.

Thinking of her mother made her long to visit her as soon as possible. To tell her how groundless her fears had proved—how much she loved the man she’d married for duty…

She felt her heart glow with warmth.

‘Good,’ Leon was saying in his decisive fashion, and they fell to discussing what kind of property they might like to live in.

‘We’ll need somewhere warmer for winter breaks, though,’ he went on. ‘How about a villa in the Caribbean? We’ll explore the islands and pick the one we like best.’

Enthusiasm fired him. How right he’d been to want so much more from this marriage of theirs! His wonderful wife Ellie, their companionship together, the searing desire that flamed between them… And now to settle down together, make their lives together.

What better could there possibly be?

Gladness filled him.

I have everything I want—everything! I want for nothing more—nothing at all.

The next week passed in a happy blur. Because they did not wish to be uncivil, there were still some outstanding invitations they felt they should honour. But they were already in touch with estate agents, and had a list of potential properties to view the following week, when they would visit Ellie’s mother on her return to the UK.

They had also agreed that Ellie would stop by her father en route to England, to tell him in person of their plans to settle in the UK, while Leon flew on to London to check up on his business affairs. Besides, the presidential elections were imminent in Karylya, and she wanted to support her father at such an inevitably upsetting time.

Her brother was due to go up to Oxford at the end of the month, to start his degree. He was visiting some school friends in Switzerland, and she hoped it would distract him from the news in Karylya.

As for Marika… Ellie sighed as she sent her a lengthy text, making it as cheerful as she could. Her mood would be particularly down at the prospect of Antal’s father becoming President, setting the final seal on the impossibility of her sister ever finding her longed-for happy-ever-after with Antal.

A wave of pity for her sister swept through her. Loving without hope. How heartbreaking that must be, compared with her own wonderful, radiant happiness.

Her eyes glowed with it every time she looked at Leon, met his glance at her. She felt her hopes soar. Oh, surely soon Leon would realise he felt for her what she felt for him? Surely her hopes would be fulfilled! It was just a matter of time, that was all…

And until then she would wait patiently, loyally, bathing in the happiness she had, and in the wonderful future she was looking forward to. Making a home with Leon. Being his loving wife for ever!

How happy I am! How absolutely happy!

The thought ran in Ellie’s head constantly, like a silent companion. Nothing could spoil it now—she was certain of it.

Ellie paused in packing her toiletries bag and glanced at her phone screen again, frowning. Anxiety nipped though she tried to dismiss it.

She and Leon were leaving Rome in the morning, by private jet. She would deplane at Angers, and Leon would fly on to London. She couldn’t get to Angers soon enough. She wanted to see Marika…talk to her. Her assiduously encouraging text to her sister had brought a vehement response.

Lisi, you haven’t the faintest idea! Not being with Antal is agony! Pure agony! I love him so, so much! I just want to be with him! I can’t bear my life without him! And I’m not going to!

Ellie had texted back immediately, but there had been no further reply. She’d texted Niki, too—no reply from him either.

OK, so he was probably out, but she wanted him to phone Marika, make sure she was…

Was what?

She felt that stab of anxiety nip again. Marika had never sounded so openly fraught—or so despairing. She wanted to phone her, but she knew it would not go down well with Leon if she disappeared into the sitting room for half an hour of sisterly consolation, with Marika weeping over the ether.

She could see him from the en suite bathroom, lying on the bed in his bathrobe, idly flicking through printouts for the houses they were going to be viewing, a glass of cognac on his bedside table. She could see from his glances at her that he was impatient for her to be done with packing—and with texting. He had that look, that anticipatory gold-flecked glint in his eye that she knew well. And as they wouldn’t be seeing each other for several days she wanted to make the most of tonight—just as he did.

She would try one final text. She didn’t like the way Marika had ended her last one—she didn’t like it at all. Extravagant hyperbole, probably, but all the same…

I can’t bear my life without him! And I’m not going to!

‘What’s up?’

Leon tried to penetrate Ellie’s clearly uneasy thoughts. He set aside the estate agents’ print-outs he’d been whiling away the time with, reaching for his cognac, wanting Ellie to be done with fussing over her creams and cosmetics—she didn’t need them to make her any more beautiful than she was.

His eyes washed over her slender form, enticingly outlined by her silk peignoir. Her lovely face was frowning as she tapped at her phone. He didn’t want her texting and he didn’t want her frowning—he wanted her to come to bed so he could make love to her…

‘Marika’s not answering my texts,’ Ellie said, that frown still on her brow.

Leon reached for his cognac again, feeling irritated. Ellie’s woebegone sister had always irritated him. ‘Moping over her boyfriend, most like,’ he said. ‘As usual.’

Ellie bit her lip. ‘She can’t help being hopelessly in love—’ she began.

Leon replaced his cognac glass with a sudden movement. He was more than fed up with the perpetually lovelorn Marika. Yet another example of how the pernicious delusion of love screwed up lives, ruined happiness…

‘That’s exactly what she can help!’ he snapped. ‘Your sister’s a fool! Don’t waste your sympathy on her—it won’t help a thing!’

He jack-knifed to a sitting position.

‘She needs to grow up—get real!’

Ellie stared—his voice had been so scathing.

She rushed to defend her sister. ‘She is real, Leon! She’s breaking her heart over Antal—’

A word broke from him.

Dimly, Ellie recognised it as the same Greek expletive he’d come out with when she’d said it was her obligation to let him show her off endlessly as his princess bride…

His face darkened. ‘No,’ he said, and there was an implacable note in his voice she had never heard before, as if what he said could never be gainsaid. ‘She just imagines she is! Like I said, she needs to grow up! Grow up and learn that nobody breaks their heart—nobody! That nobody is worth breaking your heart over!’

‘But that’s just what I’m afraid of!’

The words came out in a rush. Whether it was her reaction to Leon’s out-of-the-blue vehemence she didn’t know, but suddenly she was coming towards him with her phone, its screen illuminated, all the anxiety she’d felt and had tried to suppress leaping in her.

‘Look!’ She held the phone out, then realised that the texts were all in Karylyan. ‘It’s what she says, Leon: I can’t bear my life without him. And I’m not going to.’

In front of her eyes she saw his face masked, as if a steel visor had come down over it. He got to his feet, coming around the bed to her. There was a fury in his eyes that made her step back. But he reached for her shoulders, pinioning her with a hard, immovable grip.

Blackness was in him—a dark, bitter tide. It had come from nowhere, suddenly unleashed by Ellie’s unthinking words, her maudlin sentiments about her idiotic sister who was moping in endless self-inflicted misery—totally unnecessary and indefensible self-inflicted misery! Wallowing in a fantasy that hadn’t existed in the first place! Ruining her life because of it.

And not just her own life.

Memory slashed at him of another time—another woman—and he tore it from him. No, he would not go there. He refused to go there. He would stay only in this place he had made for himself. Facing reality square-on.

‘If you seriously believe that then phone your father, your stepmother, right now. Tell them to go and check on her!’ he ground out. ‘Otherwise listen to me—listen to me.’

He took a breath, a searing breath that razored his lungs. The darkness was still inside him, roiling in his vision. He had to make her see—understand! Understand the essential truth.

‘I say your sister is a fool—and I mean it! A fool because she believes in something that doesn’t exist! She only thinks it does—and look where that has got her? Where does it get anyone? It doesn’t get them anywhere! It screws them up—that’s all! Screws up lives, Ellie! Ruins them and destroys them! And all for something that doesn’t even exist! Because it’s garbage—all of it! All that hearts and flowers, all those vows and promises! Just garbage! Toxic garbage!’

Shock was naked in her face and it angered him. Angered him that she was shocked at what he was saying. He was telling her the truth.

The truth she has to believe—just as I do!

And she did believe it—of course she did! Why would she have married him otherwise? If she’d been like her sister—obsessed by some poisonous fantasy, believing in it—she would never have married him!

He felt the black tide that had swept over him like a tsunami out of nowhere beginning to recede. The pressure of his hands on her shoulders slackened, but he did not let her go. She was staring at him, and he could see a pulse beating at her throat. He didn’t want her upset. He needed to calm her—calm himself.

‘Ellie, it’s OK—it’s OK.’

His hands moulded her shoulders. He wanted to take her in his arms, but there were things he needed to say first. To reassure her—reassure himself.

‘Look, why do you think we’re so good together? Why do you think our marriage works so well?’ His voice had lost the last of its vehemence—but not its emphasis. ‘Why do you think it’s going to go on working all our lives together?’

He took a breath, feeling his thumping heart-rate easing now, thankful that the black tide had left him, receded back into the past he never wanted to let it out from again. His eyes were pouring into hers now, making her see, making her understand, spelling it out to her.

‘Right from the start we avoided any of that hearts and flowers, vows and promises rubbish! We never pretended anything to each other! Oh, the press might have drooled that we were some kind of sentimental fairy-tale romance—it sells papers! But we’ve known better right from the off! We’ve never deceived ourselves about why we married! We were honest with each other and we’re honest with each other still. Our marriage has moved on and we’re taking it forward together. Clear-eyed and honest. Neither of us is fooling ourselves or trying to fool each other.’

He took another breath, knowing he never wanted to have this conversation again—that he wanted it done with for ever.

His hands pressed on her shoulders, warm and reassuring. ‘We both know that love—’ he said the word with scathing, sarcastic inflection ‘—has got nothing to do with us! That’s what makes our marriage so successful! Why it works so brilliantly! And it will go on working brilliantly! It’s the same for every relationship that actually works—by keeping love well and truly out of it!’

He saw her swallow. The pulse at her throat was still beating strongly, but there was a pallor to her skin, a sharpening of her cheekbones.

Something shuttered in her eyes. ‘Are you saying,’ she asked slowly, ‘that you don’t think couples are ever in love with each other?’

Leon’s lip curled. ‘Oh, they may think they are,’ he said derisively, ‘but more fool them! Both of them are deluded! Thinking themselves in love makes an unholy mess of things! Because when the chips go down they’ll find out for themselves, too late, how much garbage it all is!’ There was an edge in the way he was speaking now, sharp and serrated. ‘That all their hearts and flowers, their vows and promises, mean nothing—just empty words!’

A chill was starting to spread inside Ellie—as if icy water were being poured into her veins. She could feel her heart thudding in her chest. Too much emotion was in her, poured upon her out of nowhere, without any warning. And it seemed to be draining into a vortex that was sucking everything out of her. Everything that was her…

‘What about…?’ She swallowed. ‘What about when you fall in love, Leon?’

She saw the same dark expression flash across his face that she had seen when she had read out Marika’s despairing text. Before he had shocked her with his furious outburst…

‘I never will,’ he retorted harshly. ‘I told you—it doesn’t exist.’ He held her distended gaze, his dark eyes implacable. ‘It doesn’t exist,’ he said again. ‘So I will never tell a woman I love her. Will never tell her that lie.’

Something twisted along the tight line of his mouth. His eyes were boring into hers.

‘And I never want to hear a woman tell me she loves me—never. I don’t want any woman to say she loves me—and certainly not you!’ he finished emphatically.

Finally his voice softened, and his hands started to caress her shoulders, kneading them, trying to draw her to him, hold her in his arms.

‘Because you are too important to me, Ellie.’ His voice was husky now, and his eyelids started to droop over his eyes. ‘Who needs illusions, or delusions, or dangerous fantasies, when we have what we have—so much better, so much more real…’

Leon lowered his mouth to hers, moving over it sensually, arousingly. Desire pooled in him—honest and true. As honest and true as everything else that there was between them. What there would always be down all their years together…

Somewhere…dimly…way beyond the quickening of his desire, the quickening of his body as he drew this wonderful, beautiful, irresistible woman into his arms—his bride, his wife, his own most precious treasure—he became aware of two things.

Her phone was ringing.

And she was not kissing him back.

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