It Started With... Collection. Miranda Lee
to feel embarrassed. I’m flattered that you want me enough to bother playing games, since that’s clearly not your style. Frankly, however, I’d much rather you were straightforward with me. I despise deception and hypocrisy and holier-than-thou attitudes towards sex. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to get laid, Laura. As long as you don’t make a big deal out of it.’ He looked at her, banked heat in his eyes. ‘Are you sure this is definitely something you want to do? Think about it over dinner and we’ll speak later on. Okay?’
Clearly, he didn’t expect an answer. Opening the door, he cupped her elbow and ushered her into the lounge.
Dinner was a triumph and a trial. Everyone thought she looked fantastic, and said so, even Aunt Cynthia. The food was surprisingly good, the wine superb and the conversation lively. If Laura didn’t say all that much, no one seemed to notice. Once everyone had stopped complimenting her on her appearance, the attention had naturally swung to Ryan who was a much more interesting subject. Shane bombarded him with questions about his soccer career. So did Bill. Jane seemed content to just sit and smile at the happy couple across the table.
Laura could not have felt less content. Or less hungry—for food, that was.
She could not stop thinking about what Ryan had said. What if, because of her so-called sensitivity, he ultimately rejected her again? What if he did indeed sleep on the floor and leave her to lie in that big bed all alone, all night long? How could she bear it? She could hardly bear sitting here at this table, listening to everyone talking absolute rubbish and making each course last much longer than it should. Didn’t they know that she wanted the meal over and done with in record time? She had to know one way or another what was going to happen. Not knowing was killing her.
By ten, dessert had finally been cleared away and they all moved back into the front lounge, where Cynthia served up coffee in ridiculously small gilt-rimmed cups that she no doubt thought elegant. Laura supposed they were. She didn’t want coffee at first, until she remembered that coffee kept you awake. After that, she had her cup refilled three times from the large silver coffee-pot which they were told had once belonged to a French Count and which Cynthia had bought online. When Gran declared she was tired and wanted to go to bed, she asked Laura to take her. Naturally, she couldn’t refuse. As she rose from the sofa, Bill also stood up, suggesting the men retire to the billiard room whilst the women cleared up. In the past, Laura would have made some cutting remark over this chauvinistic attitude, but decided to bite her tongue this time. She did, however, glance at Ryan, who smiled in wry approval at her silence.
‘Thank you, darling,’ Jane said when she was safely tucked up in bed. ‘Now, don’t let Ryan forget to take me for that ride in his car before you go tomorrow.’
Laura just stared at her grandmother. ‘What ride?’
Her gran smiled a soft smile. ‘You were away with the pixies at dinner tonight, weren’t you, dear?’
‘A little bit.’
‘Thinking about that man you love, I dare say?’
‘Yes,’ Laura agreed. It was only a half-lie. Her mind had been full of Ryan but not with thoughts of love.
Jane sighed. ‘I don’t think you should wait for him to propose, dear.’
‘What?’
‘Before you go to bed with him.’
‘Oh. Oh yes. I think you could be right about that.’ If she waited for him to propose then she’d never go to bed with him!
‘I am right. Now, off you go. It’s time I went to sleep.’ And she yawned.
Laura gave her grandmother a kiss and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
The old servants’ quarters were just across the back hallway from the kitchen where she found Cynthia and Lisa busily washing up a huge stack of dishes. It still annoyed Laura that her uncle and his son felt that housework was entirely a woman’s domain, but Cynthia didn’t seem to mind. If truth be told, her aunt liked having total control in the house. Possibly, Lisa was of a similar ilk. Although younger, she must have been a bit like Cynthia for Shane to marry her.
‘You know, Aunt Cynthia,’ Laura said as she picked up a tea towel to help Lisa wipe up. ‘You really should have a dishwasher installed.’ It wasn’t as though they couldn’t afford it.
‘What on earth for?’ Cynthia retorted waspishly. ‘They don’t save you any time at all. You still have to scrape all the food off the plates, then rinse them down before you even load the infernal thing. Then you have to unload all the plates afterwards and put them away.’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ Laura said, determined not to fight with the woman tonight. ‘By the way, Aunt, that was a lovely meal tonight. Thank you for all the trouble you went to.’
Her aunt turned a surprised face her way. ‘You know, Laura, meeting that marvellous man has done wonders for your attitude. Not only are you looking so much better, you’ve finally found some manners.’
Laura shook her head whilst Lisa grimaced behind her mother-in-law’s back.
Laura was itching to say something seriously catty in return when Ryan suddenly came into the room.
‘How’s it going with you lovely ladies here?’ he said brightly as he made his way across the floor of the truly large kitchen to where they were grouped by the sink. ‘Need any help?’
‘Heavens no,’ Cynthia trilled, lifting her gloved hands from the sink as she turned towards her guest. ‘This is women’s work. Anyway, we’re just about done here.’
‘In that case, would you mind if I stole Laura away?’ he asked as he slid a warm arm around Laura’s waist. ‘Driving always makes me tired and I didn’t want to go to bed alone.’
Laura was glad that she wasn’t required to say anything. Talking might have been difficult at that moment.
‘You go right ahead,’ Cynthia said obligingly. ‘We can finish up here. As I said, it’s almost done anyway, isn’t it, Lisa?’
‘Absolutely,’ Lisa concurred. ‘It was lovely to meet you, Ryan. Shane and I have something else on tomorrow so we won’t see you again this visit. But I’m sure we’ll see you again soon,’ she added with a knowing little look Laura’s way.
‘I’m sure you will,’ Ryan said. ‘Au revoir for now, then. See you in the morning, Cynthia.’ And he swept Laura away before Cynthia could land them with a specific time for breakfast—which she was likely to do. Cynthia liked to run the house like an army sergeant, with a time for everything.
But Cynthia’s rigid schedules were the least of Laura’s worries as she was steered with considerable speed along the hallway towards the staircase. Ryan’s fingertips were digging into her right hip and his body language reeked of anger.
‘What’s wrong?’ she blurted out when they reached the bottom of the staircase.
‘Everything’s wrong,’ he bit out, and started pushing her up the stairs.
‘But … But …’ she stammered, totally confused by his suddenly aggressive attitude. He’d seemed so agreeable in the kitchen just now.
‘No buts,’ he broke in savagely. ‘And no talking. I’ve had enough talking for one day. And enough thinking. I already know this is a bad idea. I know that neither of us might be happy about it in the morning. But I’m sure as hell going to be happy about it tonight. And so, by God, are you! Or you will, if you just shut up and let me do what I’m good at. Which sounds arrogant, I know, but there’s no virtue in false modesty. I was a damned good goalkeeper and I’m a damned good lover.’
Relief that his bad mood didn’t mean he still intended to sleep on the floor swept through Laura. At that moment, she didn’t care if he was unbelievably arrogant—which he was. Though maybe he had good reason to be. She’d never doubted for one second that he’d be good