Chapter Nineteen
The drive back to Hawthorne Hall had been blissfully uneventful. Rolling to a stop in front of the gates and climbing out to remove the chain, Donovan spotted one of the security guards. There was nothing about him to suggest he was anything other than a young man visiting the famous estate. But Donovan immediately recognized the muscled physique and intense expression.
“Can I help you, sir?” he asked, striding up as Donovan spun the combination lock and popped it open.
“I’m Donovan Blake,” he replied, smiling at him.
“Oh, sorry, sir. I didn’t realize. I’m Jim McAndrew. We weren’t expecting you.”
“No apology necessary. You’re doing your job. Would you please lock up after me.”
“Of course, sir.”
“He’s easy on the eyes,” Phoebe remarked with a grin as Donovan climbed back in the car. “I wonder if Jane has met him yet.”
“Jane will have her hands full with Trevor.”
“Really? Is there something about this bodyguard friend of yours I should know?”
“Let’s just say Trevor knows how to handle young women like Jane.”
“Like you know how to handle women like me?” she quipped, placing her hand on his thigh and sliding it slowly up to his crotch.
“Along those lines, and you’d better stop that. Teasing me is a bad idea.”
“But, Donovan, you love bad ideas,” she murmured, reaching his stiffening cock and pressing her palm against it. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“There’s a time and place for bad things, and that’s not now. Keep it up and your ass will pay the price.”
“Do you promise?”
“Apparently you want a very hard spanking,” he declared, stopping in front of the manor and staring at her. “It seems you still have a lot to learn.”
“I know, and I can’t wait for you to teach me.”
“Remember you said that. Now move your hand or I’ll introduce you to a British Dominant’s favorite implement.”
“Which is what?”
“The cane!”
“That sounds nasty,” she remarked, but without moving her hand.
“Phoebe, this is your last warning. One-two—”
“Okay, okay,” she exclaimed with a giggle, jerking her hand away.
“Here comes Peter. Now behave. You’re already going to get two strokes so—”
“Why?”
“You made it necessary for me to count, and I reached two before you removed your hand.”
“But—”
“As I said, you still have a lot to learn,” he said sharply, then quickly climbed from the car and walked up to meet Peter.
“Donovan, welcome back,” Lord Hawthorn exclaimed. “Where’s Phoebe?”
“She’s coming,” he replied, turning around to see her getting out of the Mercedes. “She just received some news and needed a moment to digest it.”
“Nothing serious I hope.”
“Oh no, just a bit of surprise. So, did you have any luck?”
“I certainly did. Shall we go inside and discuss the details? I’m sure you’d like a cup of tea after your long drive.”
“I would. I’m learning to live on the stuff,” Donovan replied with a chuckle. “I’ll probably end up addicted. Phoebe, we’re going inside for some—”
“Tea and scones,” she exclaimed as she joined them and grinning as she spoke.
“I believe Mrs. Maple, that’s our cook, has almost finished preparing lunch. We can’t really talk about what we’ll be doing at the table, so we can have a cup of tea in the library while we’re waiting. I’m afraid if she adds a plate of her scones I’d be tempted to eat them all.”
“And I’d fight you for them,” Phoebe declared. “They’re so much better than what we call scones back in the states.”
“Indeed. Please, after you.”
“How soon will the package arrive,” Donovan asked as they walked into the house.
“Not until tomorrow. Apparently it’s been in storage. But I’ll explain everything to you once when we’re able to talk properly.”
* * *
Ari was a patient man. It was part of his training. He rarely became frustrated and knew how to keep a cool head, but he was confounded. After driving around London for a good twenty-minutes before finally entering the motorway, Donovan was returning to Hawthorne Hall as if he had all the time in the world. The BMW was a speed machine, yet it was being driven as though there was a near-sighted old lady behind the wheel.
He suddenly spotted the SUV’s blinking turn signal.
It was exiting.
Again Ari was confused.
Hawthorne Hall was at least another thirty-minutes away, probably forty given Donovan’s slow speed. Following the SUV off the motorway, it occurred to him Phoebe might want a drink or a bathroom break, but he was suspicious. If Donovan tried to pull anything, he’d be sorry.
As he continued his pursuit his concern grew. The SUV was on a winding road moving towards a hill, and the area was becoming surprisingly sparse. There were green fields and plenty of trees, but little else. Deciding he’d better call Alexi with an update, he glanced at the car’s phone screen.
There was no signal.
His pulse ticked up.
He was suddenly in the middle of nowhere and Donovan Blake was definitely not heading to Hawthorne Hall. Reaching across to the glove compartment he pulled out his gun, but as he straightened up a drone abruptly appeared in front of his windshield blocking his view. He tried to look around it, but it was joined by a second and a third. Suddenly he was off the road and bouncing over a field.
Then he heard it.
The unmistakable sound of an approaching helicopter.
“Stop your vehicle.”
Even if he hadn’t heard the command he had no choice. He’d hit a deep pothole, or ditch, or something, and his car wasn’t going anywhere.
“Exit the vehicle, hands in the air.”
Still gripping the gun he stepped out, only to find six black SUV’s in a perfect circle driving towards him. There was nowhere to run or hide. Tossing his revolver on the ground, he dropped to his knees and placed his hands behind his head.
* * *
Donovan, Phoebe and Lord Hawthorne were walking into the dining room for lunch when Donovan’s phone signaled a text. Opening it up and reading the message he broke into a wide smile.
Ari has been apprehended. Will keep you posted.
“Good news?” Peter asked.
“It certainly is. There’s one less bad guy to worry about. I’ll give you the details after we eat.”