No Place to Lay My Head Read online

drink with him. At the pub two doors down from our office.

  He smiled agreeably, his coal-dark eyes glowing.

  What was it about him that got my motor running the way it clearly was?

  Jaromir was old world through and through, raised to be a Continental gentleman. That didn't mean he didn't notice my sheer silk blouse when I shed my coat, although he was polite enough not to stare. He also liked my legs, I knew. This would only lead to trouble, I told myself. Back off. It was never good when I wanted a man this way.

  He'd had a wife, he told me in answer to my question, but he'd lost her in the Balkan conflict. 'Lost' her, he said, in that tone which means dead, probably killed; not simply mislaid or divorced.

  I took his hand, warm-blooded in my cool one.

  "I'm so sorry," I told him, looking directly into his eyes.

  He looked back at me with an earnest expression. Then he smiled, gently.

  "It was a long time ago," he said, "long enough. It has been a long while for me."

  His meaning was clear enough.

  I looked down to get my breath back, and then spoke to his chin, "Thank you for the drink, Jaromir, but I think I should be getting home now." I caught his eye and looked away again. "I'll have a look at our older listings and see if I can't do better for you tomorrow."

  "Would the same time tomorrow be acceptable?" he asked.

  "Yes, of course. For you," I smiled at him.

  He rose with me and kissed my hand once more in parting, a touch which thrilled me. I fled for my coat, and the door.

  Teri was into paranormal fantasies, mostly of the hot romantic kind. Teri was worried about me. What if Jaromir was a vampire? What if he suddenly decided to 'take me' when we were all alone in some house or other? I looked at her, trying to decide whether she was more horrified or excited by the prospect, even at second hand.

  "Teri, you have to stop reading that junk and get some normal books," I told her. "You know, the kind where the stray millionaire finds love at first glance with a waitress from Wolverhampton."

  "It's not the same," she confided. "Vampires have like a power of lust over their victims..."

  I'm afraid I laughed out loud.

  "Sorry, Teri," I said, "but that's fantasy. There are no vampires in the real world."

  "Yeah, well, I like what I like," she grumbled.

  "Like Jaromir?" I teased.

  "Yeah," she smiled. "Just remember, if you don't want him, he's all mine - if only in my dreams!"

  She shut down her computer and headed for home, leaving me alone to wait for the man of our dreams. I mean, her dreams.

  I'd decided I was going to be circumspect. I was not going to get involved with a man I felt this strongly about. I was afraid I would lose control, wind up in a mess again - even if Jaromir didn't have a wife or family. So today I was wearing my jeans and a thick pullover, with my street boots and a patchwork leather jacket.

  His lopsided smile as he got out of the old Mercedes tugged at my belly.

  "So, is it Ms. Petersen today?" he quipped.

  I could feel my cheeks warming as I answered, "No, Jaromir, it's still Juliet!"

  He chuckled, "But the weather has turned colder once again, no?"

  I couldn't help it, I laughed out loud. He was right, of course. A bitter northeaster was blowing and the night was threatening snow from the city-lit clouds hanging low above us. But that wasn't what he meant, and we both knew it.

  "Perhaps a little cooler than yesterday, Jaromir, but that doesn't mean that spring will never come," I told him with a smile.

  He cheered up right away, and his warm expression never faltered when I insisted that we use my car this time.

  Once again, none of the properties I could show him suited him, and once again he offered me dinner when we were done looking.

  "Dinner only," he said persuasively, "You don't eat? You must have something - or do you want to leave me to eat alone again?"

  Against my better judgment I yielded. After all, I was well-armoured in the clothing department tonight.

  He took me to a Hungarian restaurant I hadn't known existed, well tucked away down an alley. Some women might have been anxious at the prospect of the shadowed lane, but I was unafraid. Not only did I have Jaromir to look after me, but I knew more than most about self-defence as well.

  We shared a bottle of red wine over a bowl of borscht and some crispy rolls, hot out of the oven and rich with butter. If I had needed to watch my weight I would have thrown the diet over that night. He ordered the goulash for us, a house specialty. I couldn't remember when last I tasted anything that good. Well, no, I could, but it had been a really long time ago. Between the wine and the food he plied me with gentle persuasion, and I shared my short life story with him - all of it, such as it was. He was completely charming.

  In return he opened up a little more; I realized as he spoke that in fact he usually told very little about himself, something that his easy manner tended to disguise. His research was related in some way to his family history and had to do with religious artifacts of the Roman Catholic church. Some heirlooms had gone missing in the various wars that had swept over Eastern Europe in the last couple of centuries.

  He was holding my hand - no, we were holding hands, I realized, as we declined dessert. When had that happened?

  His family was some sort of forgotten or ousted nobility, but, he said, that was no longer relevant. Not in the modern world.

  I felt for him. He was so alone, here in England. Not yet old - thirty-eight, he'd told me - he was a thoroughly nice, attractive man who'd suffered the loss of his wife, his post in a Hungarian university, and much of his fortune. He was kind and attentive as well, so admiring, so openly attracted to me.

  We walked back to the car together in a warm and companionable silence.

  When I dropped him off at his car, he leaned over to kiss my cheek, and on impulse I turned my head so that our lips met. His kiss was tender, seeking, knowing, and I answered him fervently. Then I pulled back, breathing a little more deeply, to see him smiling that darned smile again.

  "Perhaps spring will come sooner than we think," he grinned, and got out of the car to leave me surreptitiously fanning myself.

  How was I going to hold out when he was as determined to have me as I hungered for him? And when was I going to find a property he liked?

  The very next morning, it seemed.

  It had formerly been a chapel, long sold off by the church and converted to residential use. The master bedroom had a huge stained glass window, what they called a rose window, west-facing. It had a crypt which had some wine racks against one wall. It was perfect - but I didn't know how Jaromir would feel about the history, or about the price. It wasn't quite the budget place he'd been looking for. Then again, I had the feeling that Jaromir wasn't exactly poor.

  We took his Mercedes to Hallgarth that evening, the last shreds of twilight fading in the west as we left the office. I was wearing my little charcoal cocktail dress, and his smile warmed me all the way down to my toes. I nearly forgot my coat, not to mention the keys to the property. I didn't intend to let him get anywhere, but I couldn't help enjoying the glances he threw my way as we drove. At the same time I was wondering why I'd let myself wear this.

  The council had required the exterior to be left unchanged, so it looked much the same as it had when it had served as Baroness Marwood's chapel. From the corner of my eye I could see his appreciation as he surveyed the building. This was more like it.

  The interior had been transformed into a modern residence with a classical feel. Those elements of the original structure that remained had been incorporated in the new design. In the stone-floored entrance hall we found to our left a heavy, stone framed arched door which led down to the crypt. To our right was a an open archway which led into a huge living room, and in front of us was a heavy oak staircase.

  "Would you like to see the cellar?" I asked him.

  "As you wish," he agreed, c
asting an admiring glance at the stonework and the high ceiling.

  The door creaked in a gothic sort of way as I opened it, and I found a light switch inside. We made our way down the stone steps, and found ourselves in a sizeable crypt which must have occupied half the floor area of the building. At the far end was a stone altar, and in the centre of the floor was a low plinth that might once have supported a sarcophagus. Jaromir's attention seemed to be for the wooden wine racks along the wall to our right. They were relatively modern but already dusty, and he walked over and examined the several bottles still there.

  "The owner has invited the tenant to enjoy the wine that remains, if you were to take the lease. Her husband passed away, and the wine was his passion rather than hers."

  He grinned at me, saying, "I think I like this place." Winking, he chose a bottle and carried it with him. "If the rest of it is like this, then I think perhaps we can open this to celebrate!"

  I led him upstairs, where to the right was a modern bathroom and a second bedroom which could easily be converted to the study that he'd asked for. To the left was the master bedroom and the rose window, which we couldn't really appreciate because of the darkness outside. All the same it looked like it would be stunning. The king-sized bed had a Victorian carved headboard and was draped in a dark red velvet cover.

  Jaromir was smiling at me, and I was trying not to look at the bed.

  "Shall we go and open the wine?" he asked.

  "But I haven't told you the monthly rent yet," I said.

  "No