Read Inspired by Night: - a sexy new age romance Online
Authors: L E May
‘So what have you heard then?’ he asked. His eyes sparkled with amusement but his voice betrayed his vague concern.
‘Well by all accounts there is a fear that there will be no more Tellers at Thornton Manor, what with your lack of interest in girls and all that.’
His eyes widened in shock. ‘Everyone thinks I’m gay?’ He laughed.
‘When was the last time you brought a girl home to meet your mum?’ I teased.
‘I’ve never brought a girl home to meet my mum.’ He shrugged, looking around the room. ‘Look at this place, would you bring just anyone home to meet your family if they lived like this?’
I felt a glow creep into my cheeks. It was quite nice that he’d been willing to bring me, not that I really counted. I indicated my agreement with him and leaning closer I whispered, ‘I think there are a few young ladies that rather hoped it explained your lack of interest in them.’ I noticed his face redden.
He moved me on to the dance-floor. A couple of young children were sliding around near the DJ, while a group of young ladies hovered around the edge of the room, hoping to be asked to dance. I was both disappointed and relieved that the music was modern, I wouldn’t have had a clue how to dance any of those old dances, but it seemed at odds with all the old-fashioned traditions and decor to hear Take That blaring from the speakers.
Steven moved naturally to the music. I shouldn’t have been surprised; he seemed to be naturally gifted at everything. He took my hand and spun me round, pulling me to him as the song changed and the tempo slowed right down, signalling the party was drawing to a close. Mr and Mrs Teller appeared next to us and the guests all formed a circle around us. I allowed my head to rest on his chest as we swayed back and forth to the music. I felt people watching us and I didn’t care. I felt comfortable in his arms and for a moment, I wished it didn’t have to end.
After the last guest had gone home, we gathered on the sofa and watched the last of the flames die out, leaving the red embers slowly fading in the fireplace. Mr Teller poured us all a glass of brandy.
‘Well, Olivia, you were quite a hit tonight, hope it wasn’t too traumatic for you.’ Mrs Teller smiled warmly at me. I smiled sleepily back at her.
‘I had a lovely time, thank you,’ I mumbled. I heard her tinkling laugh, and smiled again.
‘Steven, I think you should take Olivia up to her room.’
I didn’t hear anything else. I was vaguely aware of being lifted to my feet but I was aware of nothing more until I woke up the next morning.
A gentle tap on my door woke me the next morning as Rose made her way into my room with a small tray. She placed a cup of tea on the bedside table and opened the curtains. The crisp cool daylight flooded the room.
‘Merry Christmas, Miss Jones.’ Rose smiled warmly at me.
‘Merry Christmas, Rose, please call me Olly,’ I insisted. ‘Did you enjoy the party last night?’
‘Oh yes, I think it was the best one yet.’ She smiled again and looked at me thoughtfully. ‘Did you enjoy it, Olivia?’
I smiled at the concession; perhaps Olly was a bit too informal. I nodded.
‘I did yes, I was a bit nervous at first but everyone was really friendly.’
I sipped my tea, smiling at the heavy mug. I was relieved it wasn’t a dainty china cup as it had been the day before. Who could function on such a small amount of tea? I usually needed two mugs before I got started – it would probably take me six of those cups to get me firing on all cylinders!
I retrieved the clothes I’d been wearing to travel and pulled them on. Until I’d showered I didn’t want to wear anything else. I was still worried I’d not packed anything vaguely appropriate for this place but was hopeful there might be a smart jumper or cardigan in amongst the comic book T-shirts. I didn’t remember going to bed and figured I hadn’t removed my make-up. No doubt there would be mascara all over my face. I checked in the mirror for Alice Cooper eyes then, satisfied I didn’t look too scruffy, I slipped out of my room into the hall.
‘Morning sleepyhead.’ I heard his teasing voice behind me. I stopped and waited for him to catch up to me. ‘Merry Christmas.’ He planted a kiss on my cheek. ‘Did you sleep OK?’
‘I did yes. Merry Christmas.’
He nudged me playfully. ‘I had to carry you to bed last night, you fell asleep in my arms.’
‘Oh really? And you didn’t drop me?’ I squeezed his upper arm. ‘Have you been working out?’ I laughed.
‘You drooled on my shirt.’ He grinned back at me.
‘A thought occurred to me. ‘Did you undress me?’
‘No, my mum did.’
I sighed with relief, then blushed again. ‘I was exhausted, you all must think I’m a lightweight.’
‘Not at all, it was a long night. No one thought anything of it, I assure you,’ he said shaking his head.
Steven led me to the dining room, another door off the main hall that I hadn’t noticed. His parents were seated at the large table, which was covered with hot plates and dishes containing bacon, sausages, scrambled egg, beans, mushrooms, and toast.
‘Ah, Steven, Olivia, come on in, help yourself while it’s hot,’ Mrs Teller instructed us. We took our seats and tucked in.
I glanced at the clock and my eyes widened. It was only 8 a.m. I couldn’t believe it was so early. I was surprised I wasn’t still tired, but I’d slept really well and felt rested and relaxed.
‘Merry Christmas, everyone,’ Mr Teller said, raising a glass of orange juice. We all responded and clinked glasses. ‘So the usual drill, we’ll leave here at 9.15 for the chapel, sit through the morning service with our tenants and then be back here by 10.30. Dinner will be at three, followed by presents, so you can occupy yourselves until then.’
‘Your Aunt Maud will be arriving at 2 p.m. with Grandma and your cousins,’ Mrs Teller added.
The air was crisp and cool as we made our way to the chapel. Patches of frost glistened off the trimmed lawn. We followed the path at the side of the house towards the farm and took a turn to the left, which lead to a small patch of trees. Beyond the trees stood the chapel, a quaint, low brick building which maintained its original style on the outside but was more modern and comfortable inside.
I followed behind the family as they greeted each member of the congregation. I recognised a few faces from the party and wished them a happy Christmas.
We made our way to an empty pew at the front of the church. The vicar was a jolly looking man in his late forties, his greyish hair curled around his head and his open, friendly face was smiling. The service was nice, delivered in an entertaining fashion. It felt Christmassy and traditional and I enjoyed it. I was glad when it was over however; I was looking forward to having some free time alone before more family arrived and Christmas dinner would be served.
‘Hey, Ols, do you want the grand tour of the house?’ Steven asked as we approached the side door. So much for my alone time. I followed him into the house and up the stairs. ‘You’ve seen most of the downstairs, the ballroom, the dining room, the drawing room, we don’t use the drawing room that much, just for when we have guests and visitors and of course it’s a traditional room so it gets used a lot when the building is open to the public and for TV and stuff like that. The only room we really use downstairs is the dining room.’
We reached the top of the stairs but moved past them to the left. I hadn’t noticed the door immediately to the side of the staircase. I glance across the hall and saw an identical door on the other side. Steven held the door open for me and I found myself in another corridor which opened out to a large hallway with several doors.
‘Now this is our living quarter.’ He grinned. He opened the first door, which revealed a comfortable living room. The first thing I noticed was the 48-inch flat-screen television mounted to the wall. Below the TV was a media case containing all manner of DVDs and CDs. In the corner of the room stood an iMac. My phone vibrated in my pocket as it connected to the wireless network and several iMessages came through. The mobile phone reception was non-existent but at least I had some contact with the outside world again. Steven smiled apologetically.
‘Reception is a bit poor out here, but feel free to come in here anytime and connect to the internet. If you want to use the computer, feel free.’ He turned back out into the hallway.
‘In this room, we have the library,’ he announced, holding open the door for me to walk past him. I took in a sharp breath. The room was huge. Every wall was lined from floor to ceiling with shelves and every shelf was full of books.
‘There are books in this room dating back several hundred years,’ Steven told me proudly.
‘Wow,’ was all I could think of to say. The room took my breath away.
‘In fact, this section here might interest you,’ he said, walking towards the centre of the wall and stopping. He scanned a couple of shelves and pulled out an original first edition of
Pride and Prejudice
. ‘I think we’ve got all of hers, actually. Generations of the Teller family have kept everything. This whole house is a family history.’
He led me out of the room back into the hallway and across to the opposite door.
‘The games room,’ he announced. I stepped in to find a large snooker table dominating the room. Further past the table was an old battered sofa, a large flat-screen TV, and a collection of games consoles; PS3, Wii, Xbox, and a full shelf of games. Behind the sofa was a square table with four chairs and a shelf filled with board games and playing cards.
‘This is where I usually hang out,’ he explained unnecessarily as we left the room. ‘That last door leads to my dad’s study. He has offices all over the world but he works from here mostly.’
‘What does the business do?’ I asked, intrigued by the world in which Steven would one day be working.
‘Packaging. He had a partner called Samuel and they set up the business together. Sam was the practical guy. He set up the machines and made sacks while my dad was the sales guy, going out and selling them to all the local farmers. My dad had his sights set higher – he wanted to sell across the UK, maybe even the world, but Sam was too cautious, didn’t think he could make enough, and was worried about bringing other people in to help them. My dad had argued that with more orders they could afford staff, but Sam was scared to take the risk. So my dad bought him out. His father gave him a small loan to pay Sam and my father took sole ownership of the business. Within a year, he had repaid my grandfather his loan and within another two years, my father was a millionaire, selling packaging to manufacturing companies across the world. Now they make all kinds of stuff: sacks, cardboard boxes, bespoke packaging.’ There was a hint of pride in his voice.
‘What happened to Sam?’ I asked, fascinated by the story.
‘He drank himself to death. Never got over the chance he’d missed.’
‘Did you know him?’
‘I vaguely remember him; he was my godfather. His wife and daughter moved to Yorkshire, I think, not long after he died. I think my dad feels guilty sometimes.’ He shrugged helplessly.
‘Well your dad saw an opportunity to expand and took it.’ I reasoned. ‘You Teller men seem to have a good head for business. I must remember if you suggest something I should take the chance rather than selling to you and losing out.’ I nudged him playfully and he grinned.
We made our way back along the narrow passage to the top of the stairs and towards our rooms. He paused outside his room, his hand on the doorknob. He turned to me as I was closing the door.
‘I wish you’d taken the chance when I suggested going out for dinner with me!’ he said, his eyes wide with innocence. I felt my face flush and my heart beat a little faster. Why was he bringing this up again? Steven had shown no sign he was interested in me in months, if I thought about those early days again,
that kiss
, I was in danger of falling in love with him all over again, especially after the way he held me last night, dancing together. I shook the thought from my head and reminded myself of Chris, my safety net, my Knight in shining armour. But then I remembered what Ruth had said to me. Steven was there in front of me, real. Chris might as well be a computer programme, and he didn’t want me either.
Steven was drifting towards me, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he watched my inner turmoil play out across my face. I smiled at him.
‘Well, we agreed I would say no, until I knew I could trust you.’ I nudged him playfully. He laughed out loud.
‘So I’m your projects manager, you let me go out to represent your company, but you don’t trust me?’ he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.
‘That’s business. Dinner is pleasure!’ I grinned.
‘Oh so I’d put you off your dinner, is that what you’re saying?’ His eyes were wide, laughing but trying to look offended. I blushed furiously.
‘No! Well, maybe a little.’ I laughed, nudging him away from me. I turned back towards my room but he caught my hand.
‘I invited you to Christmas dinner and you accepted. How is that different to coming out for dinner with me?’ He cocked his head to one side watching me. I thought about his question for a moment and then smiled.
‘Going out for dinner sounds like a date, but coming for Christmas dinner is your charitable deed for the year.’ I smiled sweetly as he closed his eyes shaking his head.
‘You are impossible. I give up.’ He shrugged, defeated.
I closed my door gently and stared at it. My mind wandered to that kiss in the studio. My breath caught in my throat as I remembered it. The smell of him, his arms holding me, his fingers in my hair, the feel of his tongue, the taste of his mouth. ‘Fuck it!’ I grabbed the door handle and walked out.
There was no response when I knocked on his door so I made my way to the living quarters and stood outside the games room. I took a deep breath, knocked on the door, and pushed it open. Steven sat on the sofa with a PS3 controller in his hand. He turned to look at me, his face registering surprise.
‘I hope I’m not interrupting, I was having PS3 withdrawal,’ I smiled, nodding towards the controller in Steven’s hand, Steven grinned and held it out to me.