Page 17 of Enemies Under One Roof

Since the disastrous visit years ago, she’d never again been photographed at WillowGlen and had purposely kept Ruby and any association with her out of the press. In fact, she’d downplayed Ruby’s role in her life, claiming her visit for the party had been a one-off, and had laughed off any ongoing connection with Ethan.

She’d done it to protect them, although Ethan would no doubt bristle at the very suggestion, and it hadn’t been easy; it had caused her a tonne of guilt to say the seemingly careless words. But it had been necessary, and ultimately achieved the required results. Ruby and WillowGlen had been dropped from any reference to her life, and no paps had stalked its perimeters whenever she’d been in England. As for Ethan, it had thrown water rather than fuel on the tabloid fire, and eventually the press had stopped mentioning and rerunning snaps of their infamous kiss.

‘And they can be trusted?’ His eyes narrowed.

‘Yes.’ She hoped she wasn’t proven wrong, remembering how her former publicist had betrayed her so spectacularly. Ivy had promptly fired her, and as a result had received an unwarranted reputation for being difficult to work with.

Ivy’s shoulders slumped as exhaustion hit.

She’d chosen to be Ivy and all that went with it to hide herself in plain sight, making herself an easy target for nasty headlines and people using her for their own agendas. Causing her parents’ deaths had defined this path for her, but it was getting harder—not easier—to keep up the charade, to not truly stand up for herself and allow Annie out. Which filled her with even more guilt, like she was betraying her parents all over again.

‘Does Amy know the truth?’ Ethan asked.

She shook her head, not only to convey her answer but to shake off thoughts about her parents. ‘I contacted Amy when the news came out, told her I wasn’t involved with her husband and had never been. She wasn’t inclined to listen.’ Which was one way to describe the viciousness at the other end of the line. ‘Either way, her husband publicly humiliated her and she was out for blood. She wasn’t particular about whose.’

‘She knew it wasn’t you and still publicly blamed you?’ Ethan’s incredulousness was a balm on a still-raw wound.

After all, he had a valid reason to want her hung out to dry, rather than believing her about Ben, yet he did. Even after she’d deliberately hurt him, he was giving her the benefit of the doubt. Not because he was a pushover, far from it. No, it was a reflection of his strength of character, combined with an inherent decency which was impossible to hide, despite the circumstances of their time together. And the more she spent with him, the deeper her regard for him grew.

Elation and dread beat at her because she wanted his regard, wanted him to look at her like he had that day, when the connection between them had shone brighter than the midday sun and melted her defences. But she couldn’t allow that to happen again; she didn’t deserve it and he’d be repulsed if he knew the real her and what she’d done. That was something she could never risk, because she’d never recover.

‘I met Amy on the set, and she wasn’t overly nice. But then again, neither was Ben. I thought at the time what a well-suited couple they were.’ She grimaced at how off the mark she’d been and unaware of what had been unfolding around her. Would it have made any difference? Would she have been able to prevent being embroiled in a scandal she’d had nothing to do with? ‘None of it changes the fact that she doesn’t deserve to be treated so badly, and neither do I.’

‘No,’ he agreed.

She blinked, surprised by Ethan’s simmering outrage. Could it be that he saw past the stereotype she’d built around herself and didn’t want her head on a spike like millions of others? Now that Ruby was gone, she no longer had anyone on her team, and a warmth flooded her that Ethan might be barracking for her.

‘It’ll die down. Or the truth will eventually be exposed. Either way, I refuse to get further involved in their drama.’ She pushed aside a strand of hair the breeze had brushed across her face to find him staring at her with an intensity that uncurled her almost frozen toes.

He shook his head, like pushing aside an unwelcome thought. ‘I’m heading back inside. You hungry?’ he asked briskly. ‘I got just about everything on your list and also picked up some hot soup and fresh bread from the café for lunch.’

The moment he said the words, her stomach rumbled. Her hunger roared to life, the combination of fresh air and the calming presence of the Virtues working their magic. But deeper down, in a place she didn’t like to acknowledge, she knew it was because of sharing the truth with Ethan, and him believing her.

‘Starving.’

Chapter Six

SIX AFTERNOONS LATER, Ethan cut across the WillowGlen grounds on his return from the caretaker’s cottage after dropping off a parcel. He’d volunteered to pick up groceries and a package from the post office, needing to clear his head and create some distance from Ivy, after their morning meeting when he’d found it hard to concentrate on anything other than her. He’d taken his sports car into the village, but once he’d returned had made the most of the clear weather and walked over to the cottage nestled on the edge of the estate.

Suddenly a sound broke through the quiet of the calm afternoon. He scowled. Was someone on the lone tennis court?

Changing direction, he headed that way, turned a corner and stopped.

Ivy stood on the baseline, sending a ball flying over the net, just as the next one shot out of the automatic launcher and she raced to meet it.

She effectively dealt with the rapidly firing balls. Her hair was up in a high ponytail that bounced as she sprinted, and her black tights and a zip-up jacket moulded curves that dried his throat and injected heat straight into his bloodstream.

He shifted his feet, yet couldn’t tear his gaze away, because it was one of the few times he’d seen her casually dressed and sans make-up, he tried to convince himself. The difference to her usual dressed to the nines look was profound. This was the real Ivy, skin glowing from exertion and the cold, as she sped around the court with the grace of a natural athlete.

That’s why his body refused to obey his instructions and continue his journey back to the Manor. He’d satisfied himself that the sound drawing him here wasn’t anything untoward. There were no intruders, no-one on the grounds who shouldn’t be. Just Ivy, a tennis racket and a never-ending stream of balls.

He remained rooted to the spot for a few minutes then headed towards the tennis court and pushed open its squeaky gate.

Ivy spun around.

Shock, confusion and self-consciousness crossed her face in quick succession, and for once, her ability to shield her feelings was non-existent. And he liked it. A little too much.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a remote control, stopping the machine as silence descended on the court.