Rumours: The Ruthless Ravensdales: Ravensdale's Defiant Captive (The Ravensdale Scandals) / Awakening the Ravensdale Heiress (The Ravensdale Scandals) / Engaged to Her Ravensdale Enemy (The Ravensdale Scandals). Melanie Milburne
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Some classy underwear—not cheap, faded cotton but some slinky, cobwebby lace. She would have liked some make-up—not much, just enough to highlight her features, to put some colour on her eyelids and some tinted gloss on her lips. She would have liked to get a decent haircut, perhaps get some professional foils done to cover the pink streaks she’d done with a home kit that hadn’t turned out quite the way she’d planned. Maybe a bit of jewellery—pearls, perhaps—to give her a touch of elegance.
But what was the point of wishing she could dress like a glamour girl when all her life she had been the girl with the charity shop clothes? The girl with the bad haircut, the bitten nails and the cheap shoes with the soles worn through? She had always felt like a donkey showing up at a posh dressage event.
Why should now be any different?
After her shower Holly slipped off her towel in front of the mirror. At least she had a good figure. It was her only asset. Good bones; long, slim limbs; a neat waist; nicely shaped breasts; mostly clear skin, apart from that ridiculously childish patch of freckles over the bridge of her nose.
Her gaze went to a pattern of damson-coloured marks around the tops of her arms. She reached up and touched them, her stomach doing a funny little dip and dive when she realised what they were. Julius’s fingerprints had branded her flesh with light but unmistakable bruises.
She bit her lip, looking at the grey cotton tank top she had been planning to wear with another pair of jeans—her only pair without holes in them, although they did have a frayed hem. She put on the tank top and picked up a green cardigan, even though the evening was warm, and slipped it on. It wasn’t the nicest weave—the acrylic in it always made her skin feel itchy. But it was either that or a denim jacket or a pilled woollen sweater that would have her sweating within seconds. Finally, she bunched up her hair and secured it with an elastic tie in a makeshift knot at the back of her head.
Holly drew in a breath and let it out in a long, slow sigh. Why she was trying to look half-decent for Julius Ravensdale wasn’t something she wanted to examine too closely. It wouldn’t matter if she’d been dressed in the finest designer wear; he would still look down his imperious nose at her.
Just like everyone else.
JULIUS HADN’T BEEN able to track down Miranda or his father. But he had fielded several calls from his mother, who was beyond hysterical. He did what he always did. He listened, he stayed calm, he bit his tongue. His mother vented, raged and fumed so much that he began to wonder if she was actually enjoying herself. It was an opportunity to play the victim, one of her favourite roles. His parents’ relationship was toxic. He hated the way they were madly in love one minute then hated each other the next. When one did something out of line, the other went into payback mode. It was childish and puerile.
The press was having a ball with this latest bombshell. He’d clicked on a couple of links Jake had sent him. The girl in question was stunning. If her mother had looked anything like Katherine Winwood, Julius could see why his father’s head had been turned. Julius only hoped no one would track him down for a comment. His life here in Argentina was his way of flying under the radar. Over here hardly anyone knew who he was and he wanted it to stay that way. But what was he going to do if the press came sniffing around? Holly was a loose cannon. There was a possibility she would deliberately mislead the press if given half a chance. Should he send her away? He looked at his phone. He had the number of her caseworker on speed dial. His finger hovered over it...but then he pushed his phone away.
For all her feistiness and brazen behaviour, there was something about Holly that mystified him. She seemed so determined to challenge him, yet he had seen that glimpse of touching vulnerability down at the lake. He had never met anyone quite like her before. He found her...interesting. Stimulating, and not just because of his overactive hormones. There was a hint of the lost waif about her. Or was he completely hoodwinked by her? Was it his rescue complex in overdrive? He wasn’t the sort of person to walk away from a person in need. Holly was difficult and disruptive but if he sent her away now she would have no choice but to go into detention. He knew enough about the penal system to know it was not the place he would want anyone under his care and protection to go. Sophia had been so keen to take Holly on. He would be letting her down if he quit now. The least he could do was talk to Sophia about it. Get her perspective on things.
It was Julius’s routine to go to the sitting room before dinner each evening to have a quiet drink with Sophia before she served the meal. It was a pattern they had fallen into over the past few months. He enjoyed hearing about Sophia’s extended family and her interesting childhood as the daughter of Italian immigrants. They often spoke in Italian, as he was fluent, given his mother was from Florence.
He wanted to use this time to inform her of his father’s latest peccadillo so she could put steps in place to maintain Julius’s privacy.
His parents—most particularly his mother—would be appalled at Julius for being so familiar with his housekeeper or, indeed, any of his staff. When he’d been growing up, his parents’ housekeeping staff had not been considered part of the family. There’d been strict codes of behaviour forbidding anything but the strictest formality from the staff towards family members. One did not discuss one’s private affairs with the staff. One did not fraternise with or consider them as friends. They were employees. They were kept at arm’s length. They were taught to know their place and never stray from the boundaries of it.
The only exception had been Jasmine Connolly, the daughter of Hugh Connolly, the gardener at the family property in Buckinghamshire called Ravensdene. Jasmine had come to live with her father after her mother had dropped her at Ravensdene on a visit and was never seen or heard from again. Julius’s parents had taken pity on Hugh Connolly—unusual for them, considering their almost pathological self-centredness—and had offered to pay for Jasmine’s education. Jasmine was like a surrogate sister to Julius, and certainly to Miranda, as they were much the same age.
Jake, however, had a tricky relationship with Jasmine after an incident when she’d been sixteen. Both blamed the other and as a result they were sworn enemies, which made for some rather interesting dynamics at family gatherings.
But this time it wasn’t Sophia who joined Julius for a drink. In walked Holly, carrying a tray with savouries on it, which she put down on the table in front of him, but not before he got a tantalising glimpse of her cleavage as she leaned over.
‘Sophia sends her apologies,’ Holly said. ‘She’s having an early night.’
Julius frowned. ‘Is she all right? I haven’t seen her all day.’
‘She’s fine. Just needs a rest, is all.’
He watched as Holly poured him a glass of white wine. Clearly Sophia had filled her in on his preferences. She handed it to him with a tight-lipped smile. ‘Two standard drinks is all I’ll serve. Just so you know.’
He took the glass, only just restraining himself from draining it dry. Mixing one glass of wine with Holly Perez was like drinking five tequilas and expecting to remain sober. It was impossible to remain sober and sensible in her company. He could already feel the tightening of his groin; the stirring of lust her presence triggered was like someone flicking a switch inside him.
For all that he’d wanted to get rid of her, she had turned things around with her concern for Sophia. But was it concern...or conniving behaviour to serve her own ends? He wanted to know more about her. He wanted to know why she was so determined to make trouble for him. It didn’t add up. If she made too much trouble, she would be sent to jail. Why then sabotage her last chance at making something of her life? She seemed intent on destroying any hope of a positive future. If he sent in a bad report to her caseworker, it would be disastrous for her. She knew that. He knew that. Why then was she so determined to ruin everything for herself? It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t logical.
If there was one thing in life Julius demanded, it was sense and logic.
‘I thought I told you