Rags To Riches: His Wish, Her Command

CHAPTER EIGHT

ELLA came to a dead stop at the top of the staircase.

Dan was sitting huddled on the bed in his room, one arm wrapped tight around Milou’s neck while his other hand was clasped firmly around the handle of their biggest torch.

The light was pointing upwards and reflecting from the ceiling so that the bottom half of his small face was white and the rest in shadow. Thick church candles burnt brightly inside glass flues, but their light was ineffectual compared to the giant electric torch.

The hard light contrasted so powerfully with his sweet striped pyjamas and towel dressing gown that her heart constricted with the sight of it. Dan had always been scared of the dark but she had not seen him looking so pale and terrified for a long time.

Ella forced herself to lift her head for the last few steps and skip lightly into Dan’s room. She had to be positive for her son’s sake—she just had to get him through the night.

‘Hello. Are you still awake? This is exciting, isn’t it? Did you hear the big wind? Oh—you found the torch from the kitchen! Good thinking.’

Ella flung herself down on the bed next to Dan and gave him an extra warm cuddle.

‘What a clever boy you are. And thank you for helping Yvette.’

‘I had to help find the torch,’ he finally managed to reply. ‘But then the wind got a bit scary.’

‘Well, seeing as you have been so brave, I think you can come downstairs for a few minutes and tell Seb all about the excitement.’

In an instant Dan was shrugging the duvet from his legs and sliding out of bed.

Ella grabbed hold of his hand and used the torch to guide their way to the hall, which was flooded with light from the driveway. Yvette had already driven off home, but Seb had left his on so that the powerful beams pointed straight onto the house and the glass panel above the front door.

She could have kissed him on the spot.

An even brighter light came walking out of the living room—the beam so powerful that Ella shaded her eyes.

‘Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind that I lit the fire. And what do you think of this new torch? Cool, eh?’

Dan shone his torch onto the carpet, then looked at Seb. ‘Yours is better than mine,’ he said with a quivering-lip voice. He looked back and forth between the two torches and said, ‘I need one like that.’

‘Well, how about a swap? Here, try it out. I should warn you, though. It’s pretty heavy!’

Dan ran forwards to take the handle from Seb, then blew out hard. ‘Really heavy! ‘ Then he started waving it about. ‘Look, Mum. Now I can see everything.’

‘That’s wonderful. In that case you can guide our way to the kitchen. I fancy some hot chocolate. And you’ll never guess what happened to me tonight?’

Dan lifted his head towards her, eyes wide and suddenly curious.

‘Did your lights go out too?’

‘No, they didn’t. But Seb gave me a scary ride home in his sports car. What do you think of that?’

‘Hey! It wasn’t that bad! I didn’t go that fast.’ Seb laughed and winked at Dan, whose mouth curled up into a grin. But as Seb strolled down the short corridor, Ella realised that it was Seb’s fingers Dan sought rather than hers, his tiny hand engulfed inside Seb’s palm. And it broke her.

Hours later, Dan’s head lolled on Seb’s shoulder as Seb carried him back to his toy-filled bedroom, with Ella carrying the torch to guide their way up the narrow old staircase.

They had shared hot chocolate made in a pan on a gas ring fed by a bottle of propane, then huddled in front of a roaring fire in the living room. Seb had drawn the heavy curtains, but nothing could block the howling wind on the other side of the glass and the draughts that blew the smoke right back down the chimney, making them all choke and splutter and laugh.

Dan had been given the task of holding the big torch while Seb fed the fire and lit a cluster of scented candles so they could see where the cups of hot chocolate were.

It had seemed only natural for Seb to divert Dan with stories about the hot and dusty places he had visited and all of the exotic plants and birds that he had seen during the previous month in the North of Australia.

Tales of kangaroos and Koala bears and kookaburras and remote towns where people had to drive for hours before they saw another house or person.

Places where people needed computers and clever phones to keep in touch, and even go to school. Places where the software and communication systems that his company made came into their own.

An hour later Dan was cuddled against Milou and his mother on the couch, half asleep and yawning his head off, despite calls for more stories about the kangaroos.

Seb lowered Dan slowly onto his warm bed as Ella held back the quilt, and then tucked him in.

‘Doors, Mum. The doors.’

Dan’s eyes fluttered open and Seb turned away as Ella opened up the big wardrobe door and shone the powerful torch inside so Dan could see the neat shelves of clothes and toys.

And absolutely no monsters.

Ella bent over to kiss Dan, wish him goodnight, and stepped quietly onto the landing.

Just as Seb went to follow on, Milou tried to jump onto the bed, but was not quite up to it without Dan helping him up, so Seb did the honours instead, and as he did so Dan tugged at his sleeve. ‘Have you looked inside? Over there? Cause I can’t see over there. I don’t want to worry Mummy.’

Seb glared at the dark spot next to the cabinet, reached out and turned on the powerful torch from the car, grateful beyond measure that the batteries were new and unused.

The whole bedroom flooded with light and Dan peered out over the top of the bedcovers before snuggling down again with a sigh of contentment.

Seb popped the torch onto the bedside table. Just in case Dan needed it again.

Then without thinking or hesitating, he whispered, ‘Night, Dan. Sleep well.’

And a sweet child’s voice answered, ‘Night,

Seb.’

The living room was still cold despite the fire, which had started to ebb down, and Seb quickly tossed dry wood onto the burning embers.

‘I suppose power cuts are one of the downsides of living in a remote farmhouse. Some things clearly haven’t changed,’ he said in a positive voice, then looked around for Ella.

He was shocked to see a tearful, anxious little face staring back at him, her skin pale even in the warm amber glow from the fire.

Ella had wrapped an old patchwork quilt around her shoulders and was sitting hunched up with her knees to her chest, hugging the quilt tight around her body.

She looked cold, shivery and terrifyingly, achingly sad and empty. As though all of the joy had been drained out of her. When she spoke she asked him the most ridiculous question he had ever heard.

‘Am I a bad mother, Seb?’

He was so shocked that instead of answering he simply turned back to the fire to hide his own rush of emotions, stoking up the wood into bright flames.

Seb did not have to look at her. Her anguish was only too clear in her voice. The type of anguish that no bland denials and complacent phrases could eradicate.

‘I love Dan so much and want him to be happy,’ Ella continued in a low tremulous voice, ‘but maybe Christobal’s parents are right? Maybe I should move back to Barcelona? He will have a better education and money and… He would never have to worry about the lights going out in a storm and being scared again.’ She paused for a second before her voice faltered in a few halting words. ‘He was so frightened! I don’t want him to be scared. Not ever’

She was crying now, the tears running down her cheeks as she fought and lost the battle to hold back her fears and regrets.

Which was why Seb did the only thing he could do. He sat down next to her on the sofa and wrapped his arm around her shaking shoulders, gathering her close to his side so that she was cuddled all along the side of his body, cocooned inside the quilt.

The contrast between the Ella he was holding and the Ella who had been playing and laughing only a few hours earlier was so sharp that Seb took a moment to close his eyes and try and clear his head. He revelled in the glorious sensation of holding her in his arms, but immediately felt guilty for taking advantage of her sudden vulnerability.

His chin pressed onto the top of her hair and he hugged her closer, wrapping the quilt around her back, desperate to share his warmth with her. Her perfume was fainter now, mingled with the soft fragrance of lavender from the quilt and Ella’s own sweet scent. Unique, powerful and totally compelling. A scent that pulled him in so fiercely that he never wanted to let her go.

She snuggled closer. Just a tiny inch. And his heart soared in delight. It had been so long since he had been in such close physical contact that the gentle thump of her heartbeat inside the ribcage beneath his hands seemed magnified. Loud and fervent.

He did not do intimate. Ever. Yet here he was, holding this wonderful, amazing woman while a little boy slept above them. How had that happened?

They barely knew each other and yet he felt so connected. Perhaps it was this house? These four walls, now cast in deep shadows, which made the rest of his life suddenly come into sharp focus.

Or was he simply in the right place at the right time to offer her some comfort? Any port in a storm? No. It did not feel that way at all. This was real. And so was her concern.

Seb slowly pressed his cheek to her hair before speaking in a low and soft voice.

‘I’ve only been here for one whole day but I already know that Dan is a very, very lucky boy. You have given him so much more than any amount of money can buy. He’s a remarkable young man. You should be proud of your son…’ and at this point he lifted some strands of her hair behind her ear ‘.and what you have achieved.’

Seb slid slightly to one side and tilted her chin up towards him, only to find her looking up at him, her eyes focused on his in the flickering firelight, as though seeking the confirmation that the words were real and for her.

He raised his right hand and his palm cupped her chin as he gently wiped away the trace of a tear from her face with his thumb. Her skin was soft and her colour was already starting to return, bringing a flush of life to her cheeks.

‘You are a remarkable and wonderful mother, Ella. Don’t let anyone ever tell you any different. Okay?’

He looked into her eyes now, and felt her chest rise a little under the quilt.

Seb tried to ignore the overwhelming urge that swelled from deep within him to caress and protect her—an urge that was threatening to break down his resolve not to become even more connected to Ella.

Except at that moment Ella seemed to take his uncomfortable squirming as a signal that she could move to a better position so that she could argue with him, and made an effort to wriggle out of her quilt. He recalled the dress that she was wearing and decided that it would be better for both of them if she stayed wrapped inside her quilt, so he held her even tighter against his body until she conceded.

‘Okay,’ she whispered, and her mouth curved up at the sides into a timid smile that was so warm, trusting and caring that any shade of doubt he might have had was blown away in a fierce blast of red-hot attraction.

Only this time it was Ella who surprised him by wriggling her left arm free on top of the quilt and laying it on his chest as she snuggled closer into his shoulder and gave a gentle sigh. A sigh of contentment that hit him hard and hit him again as his own body responded to her touch.

His heart raced to match hers, the blood hot in his veins. The gentle pressure of the side of her face on his chest flicked on switches he’d thought were long burnt out. Switches connected to a tangled set of wires labelled with words like trust and caring and commitment.

Caring? His mind reeled at the very concept. This was impossible. Ridiculous! He could not be falling for this lovely woman he first met only yesterday. He just couldn’t! Could he?

What about the small matter of the fact that the worlds they inhabited were not only continents apart, but her world was based around Dan and the simple life in this house, whereas his…? He had renounced love and chosen the type of frenetic lifestyle where no second of the day was wasted in relaxation.

They might be breathing the same air, but apart from that they had so little in common it was crazy.

He glanced down at the gentle rise and fall of her chest against his in the warm glow from the now-hot fire. She was dozing. This beautiful, fragile, clever and funny woman was using him as a pillow.

And he absolutely adored it.

He was doomed.

And where did that leave him? Leave all three of them?

Only one way to find out.

‘I don’t know how to say this, so I’m simply going to say it anyway.’

His jaw seemed to tighten and as she looked into those wonderful amber-brown eyes they smiled back at her as though he was looking for reassurance that what he was about to say would not be rejected.

‘You are a very attractive woman, Ella Bailey Martinez. The kind of woman a guy like me could fall for very easily. And cause a lot of damage in the process.’

His hand slowly lifted up her fingers to his mouth, and his warm lips pressed against each of her fingertips, one by one, sending delicious shivers of tender longing sweeping through her.

It was the sweetest tender touch she had been missing, and the instant Seb lowered her hand and released her fingers she knew that she wanted him to do it again. And again.

It had been so long since she had been held like this, touched and caressed like this, even before Chris died when their love life had died down to the point of a few absent-minded pecks on the cheek when he remembered.

There had been nobody else since.

Seb was like water in a desert. And she wanted to drink her fill.

‘I need to know if you feel the same way,’ he asked. ‘Or is it only me?’

She had sensed the attraction since the moment they had met on the dusty road, but putting it into words was harder than she expected.

He needed her to tell him how she felt. He needed her.

And it was terrifying. What was going to happen? Was it possible that they could have a future together? Could she let this man into her life and take the consequences? For herself and for Dan?

Yes, Seb had been kind to Dan, and she had been surprised that her little boy had taken to Seb so quickly, but her simple life in rural France was poles apart from Seb’s high-flying world.

What had her mother always said when she struggled to learn how to sing a new ballad? ‘Go with your heart first. Follow your heart.’

Her fingers stroked his cheek and his eyes fluttered in pleasure before opening with such desire that every cell in her body screamed, ‘This one. Choose this one.’

She grinned and lifted her shoulders into a slight shrug. ‘I’m scared.’

Seb must have been holding his breath because he shuddered out a half-smile before hugging her closer. ‘Me too.’ His hand caressed her waist and she sensed the air change a little before he braced himself with the big question. ‘Are you scared for Dan? Or is it Dan’s father?’

She closed her eyes. She’d never talked about Christobal to anyone. Certainly not to Nicole or Sandrine. As far as they knew she had been a devoted wife who was still mourning the loss of her soulmate. The truth was too hard. And way too difficult.

Only now that she tried to recall the personal conversations with Seb in the short time she had known him, she realised that her husband had never come up. Seb had no way of understanding how she felt about the man she had loved once.

Her stomach cramped in anxiety and he instantly seemed to sense her resistance.

‘You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. Being a single mother is hard enough. I know that Dan has to come first in your life.’

Now he was being sympathetic! This was totally wrong. She did not want sympathy from Seb. Just the opposite. And she especially did not want him to think that memories of Chris were still influencing her choices.

‘No. It’s okay. After Chris died in a car crash, my life was in turmoil.’ Ella focused on a spot in the pattern of the patchwork quilt as Seb squeezed her hand once more in encouragement. ‘But you know the hardest part? I knew that I was lying to myself and everybody else. Christobal and I were so in love when we married. It was a magical time for both of us, and I will never forget it. He was really making a name for himself as a conductor around the world and I loved travelling with him to rehearsals.’ She flashed a smile at Seb before refocusing on moving her hands in his.

Her head fell onto Seb’s chest. ‘Only… Once I got pregnant I couldn’t go with him on long overseas tours, and we…we drifted apart.’

Ella sucked in a breath and concentrated on the sound of the crackling fire and Seb’s heart beating under his shirt to steady herself enough to go on.

‘Chris adored Dan and we both agreed that he had to come first. We were both professionals. We had no illusions about how hard it was going to be when he was away so much. We just didn’t expect our marriage to fall apart so completely and so quickly in the process. The truth is…’ And her voice faltered, before she steadied herself to explain, ‘The truth is that for the last two years of marriage we were living more like brother and sister.’

Her head lifted in emphasis. ‘Oh, we cared about each other. Very much! And he loved Dan! We never stopped being friends, and I think we made a good show of pretending to be a happy couple, but in private we both knew that our marriage was over.’

Seb kissed her forehead before replying, ‘I am so sorry.’

She sighed and nodded once. ‘Me too. Christobal was a wonderful man who had a brilliant future ahead of him, and I still mourn him and miss having him in my life. Only, not so much as my husband, but more like the best kind of brother a girl could wish for. He was great company. Funny. Talented. He was the best friend I ever had. I miss him every day.’

‘I don’t understand. You are still wearing your wedding ring and answering to your married name,’ Seb replied, and Ella could feel a new awkwardness between them and he moved slightly back on the sofa, creating a physical as well as a mental barrier.

‘I was proud that he chose me as his wife and the mother of his child. As for now?’ Ella shook her head. ‘People know me as a grieving young widow and my efforts at making a new life haven’t gone too well, so I let them believe it for Dan’s sake as well as mine. I hate being such a hypocrite.’

‘You have nothing to be ashamed about,’ Seb replied, his brows coming together into a frown. ‘People change. It doesn’t mean that you didn’t care about each other or your son.’

‘I feel more disappointment than shame. I knew all about touring! How hard a life it was! But I believed that we would have a marriage like my parents. They have been married thirty-five years and are still so much in love it hurts. They can’t bear to be separated.’

Tears started to prick the back of Ella’s eyes now, and she straightened her back on the sofa and tried to slide away, but Seb brought his legs up, blocking her escape.

‘I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere until you get those demons off your chest.’

‘What if I don’t want to talk about it?’ Ella replied, her voice bumbling with more indignation and frustration than she had intended. ‘I’m not proud of having a failed marriage. And I’m even less proud of pretending to the world that it was perfect. Because it wasn’t at the end.’

‘You shared a wonderful few years together. Is that right? Is that true?’

She hesitated, already sensing where Seb was going with this question. For years she had felt the pain of never knowing what might have happened if Christobal had not jumped into that particular taxi cab on that particular day. Her feelings were so mixed up. Guilt. Regret. Disappointment. And fear. But one thing she was clear about was the answer to that question. She had loved Christobal and for a precious time he had loved her. ‘Yes. Yes, that is true.’

Seb slipped off the sofa and leant on the rug in front of the fire so that he was facing her directly. ‘Then celebrate that fact. And move on.’

Her mouth dropped open. ‘Move on? How do you propose I do that when I have a six-year-old little boy to take care of? If you want to feel sorry for someone, save your sympathy for Dan. He is the one who will never know his dad!’

She was shaking now, her voice harsh and angry despite being little more than a whisper. ‘Dan needs me to be strong for him. I’m all he has.’

Seb reached forward and clasped her hands in his, before she could move them out of reach. ‘How old was Dan when his father died?’

Ella looked into Seb’s eyes and the tenderness and caring in them almost broke her. ‘Eighteen months. No more than a baby really. We were living in Barcelona with his parents back then. Chris was in Mexico on tour when his taxi was broadsided by a truck. No brakes. He died instantly.’

A photo of the crash flashed into her mind and she instantly closed her eyes and squeezed them together to block out the terrible images, suddenly angry with Seb for making her see it again. For taking her back to those dark days of oblivion and pain when she was so very, very alone.

‘It must have been horrible for the whole family. His poor parents!’