Page 9 of Sparring Partners
He swallowed hard and glanced away, but the intensity of Adrian’s gaze pulled his own back. Adrian’s dark green eyes burned into his, eyes which were fringed by long, sooty lashes. Dark stubble pierced through Adrian’s skin and Luca doubted that shadow of scruff would ever be too far from the surface. Sweat drenched him, the air in the tunnel growing heavier and more cloying. He looked over his shoulder, towards the door, outside of which clear, cooler air beckoned.
“You’re too hot.”
Adrian’s voice sounded miles away, and Luca swung around too fast, causing him to stagger, his sight shadowing for a moment as dizziness took hold of him.
Strong hands clamped themselves to his arms, holding him steady.
“Let’s get you out of here and back into the fresh air.”
Adrian’s voice was calm and measured, confident and sure, and Luca nodded as he was guided from the tunnel, Adrian’s firm hold never leaving him.
Outside, Luca sucked in one huge lungful of cooler air after another as Adrian led him towards a bale of hay in the shade.
“I’m fine now. The heat and humidity in there, it just?—”
“You need to sit down. I’m in and out of the tunnels all day, but if you’re not used to the sudden extremes of temperature it can be a shock. We’ll go up to the house in a moment. Get you a cool drink.”
“No, I’m?—”
“My farm, my rules. Besides, I don’t want you collapsing and then trying to sue me. This is about my self interest, not yours.”
“I wouldn’t…”
Adrian chuckled and sat down next to him on the bale. His expression was serious but amusement glittered in his eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. Thank you.” Luca looked away. Why did he find it so hard to hold this man’s gaze?
“Take your jacket off, and loosen your tie some more.”
Luca removed his tie, undoing a couple of buttons, but he kept his jacket on. The dizziness had passed, and although still hot, he was feeling better. And besides, sweaty underarm patches was not a good look. But then neither was passing out. He peeled his jacket off, the expensive tailoring no more than a damp cloth.
They made their slow way towards the farmhouse. Luca’s legs felt a little wobbly. Awareness tingled through him that with every step he took Adrian was watching, waiting to catch him if he stumbled. They walked in silence until they reached an open back door leading into the farmhouse, where they both discarded their wellingtons.
“Come through to the kitchen and sit down at the table.”
The shadowy coolness was the balm Luca needed, and he sighed with relief as he slumped into a chair.
As Adrian went to get him water, Luca took time to look around.
One wall was dominated by a huge brick fireplace, darkened with age and flames, and with what Luca thought were corn dollies hanging on either side. The walls in the rest of the kitchen were bright with whitewash, but uneven and lumpy, a sign that the room at the core of the farmhouse was centuries old. The stone floor was smooth, from comings and goings of generations of feet, but the bygone rustic look stopped there.
Shaker style sage green cupboards and sleek modern appliances featured, and a state of the art coffee machine sat on a counter top. A couple of shelves on the wall held a collection of cookbooks, crammed in tight, all of them well used if the broken spines were to be believed. Ancient and modern, shoved together, it should have been jarring yet each element happily accommodated the other.
“It’s a lovely kitchen.” Luca nodded to the cupboards, which looked bespoke rather than flat pack. “And the cookbooks. You must be a keen cook.”
Adrian set down the glass of water on the table with a hard thud. “Used to be. Not so much now.” Adrian glared at the books as though he found them offensive. “They’re just taking up space, so I should get rid.”
Luca said nothing, and instead gulped back the water. So much for small talk.
Adrian plucked up Luca’s empty glass. “I’ll get you another. You’re dehydrated.”
“No, I…” But Adrian was probably right. He drank enough coffee to keep a liner afloat, followed by tea, with water coming a distant third. “I feel better for the drink. Thank you.”
Adrian gave a sharp nod. “Are you up to talking business?”
“Yes, of course I am.”
Adrian pulled out a chair and sat opposite Luca. “Salad leaves, herbs, tomatoes,” he said, not wasting time. “What about winter root vegetables?”
