MAX WRAPPED HIS arm around Ellen and drew her closer against his shoulder as they leant back against the sun-warmed stone. They were sitting on the step of the little folly, looking out over the lake to where the setting sun was turning its reedy waters bronze. Ellen gave a sigh of deep contentment as she nestled into Max’s sheltering embrace, her knees drawn up and slanting against his thighs.
‘You’re really sure you’re OK with us spending our honeymoon here at Haughton?’ she asked him, glancing up at his profile.
He nodded, his gaze going to her. ‘My beautiful, adored Ellen—don’t you know that I am happy wherever you are? And if you are happiest here, then here we shall stay for all our days,’ Max finished with a fond smile, and let his lips brush across her hair.
‘Maybe,’ she mused, ‘I feel that if I ever leave Haughton I’ll return to find that this heaven was only a dream, and I’m back here again with Pauline and Chloe still trying to sell it from under my feet and force me out,’ she said.
Max shook his head. ‘Oh, no,’ he said decisively. ‘This heaven is real, believe me. And as for your stepmother and stepsister—well, they’ll never set foot on your property again, I promise you. If they even come back to the UK I’ll know about it!’
She looked at him quizzically. ‘Are you really keeping them under surveillance?’ she asked.
‘I’m keeping tabs on them, yes,’ Max admitted. ‘So that wherever in the world they go, if they try and home in on anyone wealthy but vulnerable, like your father was, then their target will be warned. Of course,’ he went on, ‘it could be that they won’t need to target money any more—they have pots of their own. And I don’t mean just their ill-gotten gains from selling me their share of Haughton!’
Ellen’s quizzical look intensified and Max elucidated.
‘I just happened to mention to them, at some point while I was acquiring their share of Haughton, several new property hotspots that were emerging, where substantial profits could be made. They seized on it, and my latest information is that they’re now investing substantially. However, if they’re prudent they’ll take on board that where there is the chance of high return there’s also the chance of being wiped out financially.’ He smiled, and it was not a wholly benign smile. ‘Let’s just say that if they do get wiped out financially...well, I for one will not be weeping.’
Ellen looked away, out over the lake. She had come so close to losing her beloved home that it was hard to feel any concern at the prospect of Pauline and Chloe losing the money they’d made on selling up to the man who’d saved Haughton for her.
‘Karma,’ she murmured now.
‘Yes, indeed,’ agreed Max. ‘And it was fate, too, that brought me here...let me find you here.’
He turned his head to look across the lake, beyond the lawns, to the mellow stone house that was now home to both of them, safe and secure for ever, for themselves and for their children to come. Contentment filled him. With his free hand he reached sideways to lift the bottle of champagne from its ice bucket.
‘Time for a refill,’ he said, and Ellen picked up her empty glass and held it tilted while he topped it up, then held his glass while he did likewise.
He set down the champagne bottle and raised his brimming glass, clinking it against hers.
‘This is to us,’ he said, and now his eyes wound into hers, his love for her glowing like an eternal flame. ‘To our marriage, to our lives together, to our love—and to our beautiful, most precious home.’
‘To us,’ she echoed. ‘To you, my darling, wonderful Max, who has made all my dreams come true!’
He dropped a kiss on her upturned face, then took a deep draught of champagne as she did likewise.
‘It’s going to be quite a busy honeymoon,’ he observed. ‘Undecorating the house from all that interior design, getting it back to the way it used to be... It’s great,’ he added, ‘that so much of the original furniture got stashed in the attics.’
‘We will need new curtains, though, and soft furnishings,’ Ellen commented.
‘We’ll choose them together. Did I tell you?’ He cast a wicked look at his bride. ‘I’ve always had a thing about spots. I think curtains made from a polka dot fabric would be ideal...’ He trailed off.
She laughed. ‘Let’s save that for the nursery, maybe,’ she said.
He cast her an interested look. ‘Are you trying to tell me something?’
His voice was casual, but Ellen was not deceived.
‘Well, no,’ she admitted. ‘But maybe this time next year? That should give my headmistress time to sort out maternity cover.’
‘You really want to go on teaching?’ Max asked.
‘Oh, yes,’ she answered. ‘I can’t just be the idle wife of a rich man! And besides...’ it was her turn to throw him a wicked look ‘...if I don’t teach Games I might go off the boil about exercise in general. I might run to fat,’ she said dulcetly. ‘And then,’ she finished dramatically, ‘you wouldn’t love me any more!’
A growl came from Max and he set down his champagne glass, removing hers at the same time. His arm around her shoulder tightened, and with his free hand he cupped her face.
‘My goddess—my lioness—you could turn into a morbidly obese rhinoceros and I wouldn’t love you an iota less. Don’t you realise it’s you I love, and to hell with anything else?’
‘Oh, Max!’ She gave a little choke, feeling her eyes misting suddenly.
How blessed she was—how unutterably blessed—that Max should love her!
He kissed her, warm and tender, deep and passionate.
Increasingly passionate.
Gently he drew her down upon the stone floor of the folly, and their bodies were limned with the light of the setting sun as desire flared between them—rich and ardent, sweet and eternal. Desire that was the manifestation of a love that would not end—that could not end. That could only bind them, each to the other, all their days...
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