Bowles, Jan - Love Slave to the Sicilian Billionaire [Guilty Pleasures 4] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) (4 page)

She heard his deep sigh, and out the corner of her eye she saw him shake his head. Now she felt guilty again. He lifted her hand from her lap and squeezed it in his.

“Take my advice. Don’t mix with those people again. They won’t make you happy.”

“What’s it to do with you, Max? You’re not my keeper.”

“As of now I am. You’re clearly not thinking straight.”

He didn’t know what she was going through. He hadn’t had to face seeing her dead husband after he’d blown half his head away, had he? She wondered if she would ever get over that horrendous taunting image. The evening out was meant to take her mind off it. She shivered involuntarily. From the instant she’d met Kevin McCreedy, he’d scared her. Thank God Max had been there. “Okay, Max. You win. I know you’re right.” The look of relief on his face was plain to see. Despite him staying away for the last few months, she knew he cared for her. She guessed he’d been working through his grief, too.

Ten minutes later, he steered the Porsche onto her drive and stilled the engine. The real estate sign outside had been knocked over by a recent storm that had blown in from the west. She still had to call them to fix it. When it was sold she could be free of the bad memories once and for all. It was all so very different from when they’d first moved into the new development as newlyweds, some five years earlier. She’d been so excited. Little had she known then what would happen in the double garage. It still sent a chill right through to her core. She’d been too distressed to venture in there, since Kirk had committed suicide.

“I see you’re selling up.”

“I have to, Max. The life insurance company wouldn’t pay out on Kirk’s death once they found out it was suicide.”

“You only needed to ask if money’s the problem.”

Ella shook her head. “I know, and thank you, but I don’t want to live in this house anymore. It doesn’t feel like home. There are too many bad memories. I’ll be glad when it’s gone.” She smiled weakly. “Thanks for the ride home.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’ll see you safely inside.”

“There’s no need.”

“There’s every need.”

His eyes pierced into her. She knew Max wouldn’t take no for an answer. Besides, her nerves were frayed, and at least she wouldn’t have to be alone with her memories if he came in. She guessed he wanted to see how well she was coping. If he came in he’d understand exactly how she felt. She tried once more. “I’ll be fine. Really I will.” She knew her words sounded unconvincing.

No sooner had she finished speaking than he jumped from the car and walked around to open her door. “Like I said, I’ll see you inside.” He held out his hand, and helped her from the car.

“It’s a little untidy,” she explained, opening the front door, and leading the way inside. The TV was on, and the sound drifted through to the hallway. She always left it on these days. It made her feel less alone. As soon as she led the way into the living area she realized she’d let things slide. She felt ashamed of the half-eaten food that lay discarded on several plates around the room. Immediately, she began scooping them up and taking them into the kitchen area. “Would you like coffee, Max?”

“Ella, why don’t you come back to my place?”

“I’m all right, Max, honestly.”

She began running hot water into the sink, trying to ignore the way he was staring at her. If she kept herself busy, she wouldn’t have to admit she wasn’t coping.

“I’ve just had a few things on my mind, that’s all. I’ll get back to normal soon.” The dried-on food refused to budge as she scrubbed vigorously with the scourer. If she didn’t turn toward the kitchen table, then she wouldn’t see her dead husband. Just sitting there, with half his head missing. Her eyes felt wild and wide.

Max placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Ella. I’ve not been here for you. But I am now. Come and stay at my place, just for a few days.”

Ella frantically rubbed at the stubborn, dried-on food, trying to distract herself. “I’ve just gotta clean these first. Then everything will be all right.” There was no way she’d glance in her dead husband’s direction.

“Leave them.” Max forcefully removed her fingers that tightly gripped the crockery. “Leave it, Ella. It doesn’t matter.”

It proved too much to bear. The emotion erupted from deep inside her as Max cradled her once more in his arms. “Make him go away,” she sobbed against his chest. “What’s happening to me? I think I’m going crazy. I think I’m losing my mind. Kirk’s sitting at the table, covered in blood. I know he’s dead, but he looks so real, Max.” Instead of slowly disappearing with the passage of time, the images of her dead husband were getting more real and frightening. Blood oozed from his still-open eyes and ran down his cheeks. His mouth was open, his tongue protruding. Even though he seemed to stare at her, his expression remained vacant and lifeless. It was as though he accused her from beyond the grave.

“Shhh, Ella.” Max stroked her head, comforting her. “It’s not real, baby. The fear will pass, and life will become worth living again.” She heard Max sigh. “Right, no argument. You’re coming home with me.” She went to speak, but he would have none of it. “It’s not negotiable, either. The sooner you agree, the sooner we can pack you a bag.”

With a sense of relief, she answered, “Okay.”

Chapter Five

Max breathed a sigh of relief as he turned the Porsche onto his property, and followed the sweeping drive up to the front door of his purpose-built home. He always loved seeing the dream house he’d designed and built himself, nestled so peacefully between several Eastern Oaks. Even more so, now he’d persuaded Ella to come back with him. She definitely needed a sanctuary to relax in.

There were no windows on the outside of the property, giving him complete privacy, just the way he liked it. A sophisticated and expensive CCTV system gave him perfect views of his ten-acre estate. He would know in an instant if anyone were approaching the house. Some might call the square building plain, but to him, it was an architectural masterpiece. The house had been built to his own exacting specification, using only the finest materials. It boasted an impressive central courtyard, with all rooms facing inwards. Each room had one wall of floor-to-ceiling glass that could be fully retracted, giving access to the opulent central enclosure—his inner sanctum. A swimming pool, fountains, and an impressive selection of imported tropical plants were visible from every room. In the evening the scent of lemon, olives, and bougainvillea would drift seductively through the spacious interior. One could walk around completely naked without being seen from the outside. He enjoyed total privacy, which was exactly what was required, as he liked to practice his BDSM lifestyle discreetly, well away from prying eyes.

Ella seemed in a daze as he parked the car and eased himself from the driver’s seat. He opened the huge oak door of the house, and then collected her bag from the trunk before helping her from the car.

He should have contacted her long before she got to the distressed condition he now found her in. It was obvious she was having a hard time coming to terms with Kirk’s death. He knew she blamed herself for it. But he was far more culpable than Ella. Just why hadn’t he noticed the signs when he’d last seen Kirk? Guilt over his best friend’s death invaded his thoughts as he placed an arm around her shoulder, and guided her down the corridor to the largest and most luxurious guest bedroom.

Max opened the door and placed her overnight bag on the bed. The automatic lights in the courtyard had just started to come on. Their kaleidoscope of colors subtly illuminated the impressive inner space, giving it an almost magical appearance.

“Why don’t we meet by the pool in, say, a half hour? That will give you time for a shower and a change of clothes. Then we can have a chat, and maybe a nightcap. That’s if you’d like to.”

Ella nodded. “Yes, Max. Thanks, I really don’t want to be on my own.”

“Then you don’t have to be. If you want anything, just yell.” Instead of walking along the corridor to his bedroom, a lengthy walk of perhaps a minute or so, Max opened the large glass doors and slid them back. He stepped out onto the cobbled courtyard and walked across to his own bedroom, passing the lush tropical plants that swayed gently in the cooling evening breeze. The soothing sound of the water cascading down the statues and marble plinths created a tranquil, relaxing atmosphere. He was already beginning to wind down as he reached his bedroom and swung back the glass doors.

By the time he’d showered and changed his clothes, Ella was already sitting in one of the comfortable rattan chairs by the pool. She wore a pale green sleeveless top, and a pair of white, figure-hugging trousers. He couldn’t help noticing how beautiful she looked in the lush surroundings, and how pretty her dainty little feet appeared in the delicate, gold crossover sandals.

“How do you feel?” Max asked.

“I feel fine, Max, really.” She held out her hand to show how steady it was. “Look, not even a tremor. I’m perfectly okay, now.”

“Do you feel up to that nightcap I promised you?”

“Please. I’ll have that white wine you so rudely stopped me from drinking at the club.”

“Okay.” He smiled as he opened the cooler at the minibar. “I can see you’re already beginning to relax.”

Ella sighed, a contented sigh. “You know I’ve always loved this place, Max. It’s just so…” She paused briefly as she searched for the right words. “Calming.”

He placed his hand on hers. “Ella, I need to apologize. I acted selfishly. I should have helped you come to terms with Kirk’s death before now.”

“No need to apologize, Max. We all deal with grief in different ways.”

“You needed me, and I wasn’t there.”

“But you’re here now.”

“True.” He handed her a glass of wine. “Have you spoken to a psychologist about your emotions? After all, Ella, you did find Kirk dead in the garage.” Max knew it must have been horrific.

She shook her head, making her ponytail sway from side to side. “No. My doctor suggested it, but quite frankly, I just can’t afford it.”

Max cursed inwardly. So much for a society that only helped those who could help themselves. He went over to the minibar to pour himself a stiff bourbon, realizing he needed it. Ella had to talk this through with a professional—someone totally independent of the situation. Thank God he’d come to his senses and asked her to stay. What she saw in that garage must have been almost too much to bear.

“I know an excellent psychologist. He’s a personal friend of mine. I’ll give him a call in the morning.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“No arguments, Ella. You need to talk things through with someone who won’t judge you. Hans Lindquist is a professional. He’ll be able to help you put things in perspective. Seeing your dead husband all the time is just not healthy.”

“Tell me about it.” She sipped at her wine as he came and sat beside her. “I guess I feel guilty, knowing now that he thought I was having an affair.”

Max caressed her hand. “I wish I hadn’t said anything now. I should have realized you’re not the sort of woman to be unfaithful to her husband. I blame myself. I should have known that Kirk was not well. For fuck’s sake, he was my best friend for almost thirty years.”

“It’s okay, Max. I blame the military system in this country. They sent him home without any help. I’m sure they’re far guiltier than either of us.” She sighed. “Usually, Kirk was fine when he came back from a tour of duty. He’d been to all the dangerous war zones in the world. He’d seen some terrible things no man should ever see. I know, because he confided in me once, and I asked him how he coped. Do you know what he said?”

Max shook his head.

“He said he had the ability to block what he’d seen from his mind. He said he could compartmentalize events. A bit like putting all your unpleasant memories in a box and then putting a lid on it.”

“So what happened this time?”

“I don’t know. Something awful must have happened, because the moment he returned home, he was not the man I knew. He seemed frightened, bewildered even.”