Chapter Three
MINA
Herding cats definitely fit the process of moving the men to the west wing.
Marius stalked ahead, while Henrik lagged behind, inspecting every vase and painting in the hallway.
Roux started out beside me, but his long, businesslike strides quickly put him several paces ahead.
Then he would glance back, annoyed, pause for me to catch up, and repeat the process, like a tall, musclebound yo-yo — or a caged tiger.
Bene ambled along, peeking into each of the rooms on the left. “What’s that? And that?”
I pointed. “Music room, smoking room, card room.”
He whistled. “A whole room for playing cards, huh?”
“Off-limits,” I growled, picturing his dirty boots on the tables and cushions. “All of them.”
“I guess the roof leaks, huh?” he asked, noticing the buckets I’d done my best to hide.
I made a face. “A little, but I got an estimate, and the roof tops my repair list.”
Bene chuckled. “Literally.”
I wasn’t so cheerful, because that list was about as long as the driveway. Part of me yearned to be setting up a classroom back in Maine instead. It was September, and twelve years of teaching was telling me it was time to migrate back to the classroom.
On the other hand, I had been starting to get into a rut at home.
Teaching could be incredibly rewarding, but I couldn’t help thinking the next thirty years of my life ought to hold more than the same predictable cycle of school days, weekends, and summers.
Something more exciting. More adventurous, even.
Fixing a chateau might not be adventurous and exciting, but it was unpredictable, for sure. Especially with my new houseguests.
Bene indicated the one, long room on the right. “And that is…?”
“The library.”
“Let me guess. Also off-limits?”
I nodded firmly.
My attention was only half with him, however.
The rest was focused on the wide shoulders already disappearing down the far end of the hallway.
Marius. The man moved like a thundercloud, both fascinating and frightening.
When he turned the corner, out of sight, I felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment.
Relief, I told myself firmly.
I put the disappointment part down to his bad-boy aura. His type had a way of reeling women in. Foolish women, that is. Certainly not me.
I did my best to puzzle out the others. Bene was curious. Henrik, appraising. Roux was a bundle of pent-up energy. Energy that had to be harnessed and directed to a constructive purpose.
I hurried to catch up to him and lowered my voice. “Gordon said I could trust you to keep these guys in line.”
Gordon had said no such thing, but I wasn’t above stroking egos when I had to.
Roux’s chest inflated another quarter inch, and he nodded briskly. Of course I can.
“Good.” I kept my voice to a secretive whisper. “I think they’ll need it.”
“Believe me, I’m on it,” he rumbled. “We’ll get our training area set up before lunch.”
I pictured one of those courses where dogs ran under, over, or around various obstacles. Whatever it took, I was all for it.
Still, I had to wonder. What were they training for?
Gordon had been vague about what these men did for him, but that was par for the course with my godfather, who ran dozens of businesses in as many countries.
He’d mentioned something along the lines of elite bodyguards he hired out to various associates.
And, hell. It would be hard to beat a vampire, tiger, dragon, or lion shifter in that role.
“Excellent,” I said, mimicking the clipped tone of a military commander. Something Roux was definitely familiar with.
As for the other three… Well, discipline clearly did not top their résumés.
We reached the west wing — a boxy annex connected to the central part of the building by the long hallway. That construction was mirrored on the east side of the chateau, where my suite of four rooms was. A distance I was doubly glad for now.
Before heading down the spiral staircase to the ground floor, I pointed out the window.
“In terms of outdoor space, you can use the courtyard of the stables and the grounds outside the west wing.”
Everyone peeked out. Bene moved a curtain for a clearer view, and I prayed it wouldn’t tear. The fabric was that old.
“Oh! A hedge maze! Can we use that too?”
I nearly said no, but maybe they would lose themselves in there for a while.
“Sure.”
“What about that lake?” Roux asked.
I considered, then conceded. “Just don’t bother the ducks.” Then I motioned over my shoulder to the opposite end of the house. “The croquet lawn and gazebo are off-limits.”
Bene sniggered. “Croquet lawn?”
I shot him a look. I was neither a rich snob nor hopelessly old-fashioned. But, heck. A chateau was a chateau. It had more than one lawn, and one of them was for croquet.
“What can I say?” I shrugged. “It was a thing in the old days.”
We spiraled down, where I showed them around the lower level of the west wing, made up of four huge, airy rooms, two to the front and two to the back. I waved around the first room facing the south lawn.
“The rooms on this level are your quarters. A shared living room…”
A worn couch faced the fireplace. I’d set up a kitchen niche in one corner, with a mini fridge, microwave, and a few other necessities.
Bene made a beeline for the coffee machine, inspecting it while Henrik peered out a window, taking in the wide lawn and fringing forest. I did my best to keep them moving, directing their attention to the beautiful oak floors instead of the sagging wallpaper.
“The other three rooms can be configured as you like. I’ve put two beds in each room and left the third as an additional lounge, but you can rearrange any way it suits you.”
This was the only part of the chateau that wasn’t cluttered with mementos and furniture.
My grandmother had cleared everything out years ago in hopes of renting the space, though she’d never followed through.
I’d picked up where she’d left off and had busted my butt to make it habitable.
I’d only dragged in the fourth bed and mattress the previous evening, in fact.
Boy, did I deserve a coffee, my pain au chocolate, and some downtime. I sighed.
“Bathroom?” Bene asked.
The chateau had over forty rooms, but only a handful of bathrooms. Luckily, my grandmother had had two installed in this level of the west wing…in the 1980s.
“They’re a little dated,” I admitted, flicking on the lights in one, then the other.
Bene and Roux crowded in to peek over my shoulder, and all that prime man-flesh made a warm flush spread over my cheeks. Clearly, I’d had far too long a dry spell.
My mind wandered to Clement, while my eyes drifted over Roux, Bene, and Marius. Not that I was considering my options. Just, er…fantasizing a little.
Then Henrik leaned in, instantly quelling my libido. His eyes focused on my neck rather than the bathroom fixtures, and my skin crawled.
“I’ve seen worse,” Roux announced.
“I’ve seen better.” Bene sighed, checking his hair in the mirror.
“Well, updating these bathrooms is on the list, and that’s where you come in,” I said. “I assume Gordon briefed you on our arrangement?”
Roux nodded. “An hour of work a day from each of us.”
I echoed the movement. “Exactly. But I have a proposal.”
Bene’s eyebrows jumped up.
Not that kind, I let my grimace say. “Instead of an hour each day, I suggest you all give me six hours in a single day. Starting at the end of this week, all right?”
No one looked too enthusiastic, but no one protested either.
Gordon had been generous in his terms — not just in paying double the rent I’d proposed, but also providing me with my own, in-house workforce. Then again, my godfather had always been kind to me, and he knew about the sad state of the chateau.
“Well, I’ll let you settle in while I check on lunch. Madame Picard should be here any minute. She’ll ring at mealtimes.”
I indicated the tarnished bell by an aperture near the ceiling. The system had been state-of-the-art in the 1930s and was about the only thing in the house that didn’t need repairing.
“Any questions before I go?” I asked once we returned to the staircase.
Roux and Henrik shrugged. Marius scowled silently out a window. Bene waggled his eyebrows.
“Where do you live?”
Everyone looked over expectantly — even Marius.
I crossed my arms and socked them with my toughest, bitchiest expression.
“At the opposite end of the building. And guess what?”
“Off-limits?” Bene ventured.
Bet your ass, it is, I let my firm nod tell them. Then I pointed down the hallway.
“Lunch at one, in the dining room.”
With that, I marched away. The only sound was the pad of my soggy socks over the oak flooring — and the creak from behind as the men leaned into the doorway to watch me.
Just three months, I reminded myself, sensing their eyes on my back.
Gordon had offered a slick $15,000 per month for me to house and feed these men.
I only had to share my leaky roof with these strangers for three months — and afterward, I would have enough money to replace (most of) it.
Plus, the chateau was bigger than many apartment buildings.
You’ll barely notice them, Gordon had assured me.
And, silly girl, I’d actually believed him.
* * *
Madame Picard arrived shortly after — thank goodness — with all the fixings for a three-course lunch. In no time, she’d filled the kitchen with mouthwatering aromas.
“You’re soaked,” she scolded me. “Now, shoo.”
I headed to my room in the upper east wing for a quick shower, then dried off.
The windows of my bedroom overlooked the back lawn and forest, so I rarely bothered covering up before getting dressed.
But my new houseguests had such presence that I remained acutely aware of them, even at this distance.
Safely wrapped in a towel, I peeked out a window.
We’ll get our training area set up before lunch, Roux had said.