Chapter 7
I’m shaking. My life is spiraling into an abyss, and the only person following me is a rather sexy Russian. I figured that from the accent and his name. Valentin Romanov. I couldn’t help myself because as soon as I located my phone, it wasn’t the solicitor I called first. I searched his name and what the internet threw back at me makes my soul weep in defeat.
I am screwed.
The Romanovs are described as the most powerful family in Russia outside of the man who rules over it. They are untouchable and I stared long and hard at the endless images I found on the internet. They hold the crown of Russian royalty and there are photos of them attending celebrity parties, the homes they own and yachts in turquoise seas that burned before my disbelieving eyes.
Their father, Andrei Romanov, is the same man in the silver frame resting on my aunt’s table. The man she was in love with. Was she his mistress? Was that how she made her money?
I feel sick and stare at the tapestry above my aunt’s desk as if it will make sense of this situation. How did they meet and why was he interested in her? His wife looks so elegant, beautiful and personable. Why would he cheat on her with my aunt?
It doesn’t make any sense to me, and no wonder Valentin is on a mission for answers. He must be hurting, knowing his father cheated on his mother.
Now I realize why he wouldn’t call the cops. He was right, he can probably get answers way faster using his contacts.
Then there are the men who flooded the house and grounds. Men in black with foreboding Russian accents and formidable frowns. Valentin commands them like a Russian general, and I suppose he is. Right now, in this moment of time, our worlds collided, and I am beyond mortified that I kissed him like a desperate slut up there in the attic.
No wonder the rat slapped my ankles to bring me to my senses.
What the hell was I thinking? I launched myself at him like a greedy whore and I am so ashamed of myself. I don’t kiss strangers, especially ones who scare the shit out of me, but in that moment, it was all I could think of. He is all I can think of since he walked up to my aunt’s grave and tossed his thorny rose in after her.
My hands shake as I attempt to call the solicitors and I give myself a stern talking to as I wait for someone to answer. I must be strong, fearless even because there is no other way to handle this strange situation.
“Mactravers and Perkins, how may I help you?”
The friendly voice on the other end sounds so normal I nearly weep with relief.
“Um, please, may I speak to Donald Perkins? It’s Pollyanna Scott-Stanley, and it’s, well, it’s kind of urgent.”
“Of course, Miss Scott-Stanley, I’ll see if he’s available.”
The wait is interminable as I attempt to get my breathing under control and the relief is enormous when his jovial voice says, “Polly, how can I assist you?”
“Um, I have a few questions.”
“Fire away.”
He sounds so reassuring it causes me to relax a little and I cough nervously. “Um, I’m at the house in Lower Slaughter and it occurred to me that there is only one set of keys.”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“Isn’t that unusual?”
I say quickly, “I mean, were there any staff who may own a set, or a keyholder, perhaps?”
There’s a brief silence and then he says guardedly, “It’s a possibility, I suppose. It was all rather sudden, and the keys were handed to us when the police instructed us of Veronica’s sad accident.”
“The police?”
“Yes. There were no other friends or relatives who came forward and so they went to her residences and checked. The keys to them all were discovered within her personal possessions, and I suppose the other sets were in the house where she died. It would explain why only the spare sets were handed in.”
“I see.”
I’m filled with sadness that my aunt had no one close to her except for the staff and Valentin’s late father.
It stirs up the detective in me and chases away my fear far more effectively than any strong words from Valentin and I say curiously, “Donald, would it be too much trouble to provide me with a list of any known associates of my aunt and a copy of the will? I would also like access to the deeds of the houses and any paperwork on the matter.”
I take a deep breath and say firmly, “I inherited an empire that I need to gain control of and understand what it involves.”
“An empire.”
He sounds amused and I say firmly, “Yes, Donald. An empire because from the short time I’ve been at this house, I have understood that my aunt was heavily involved in charity work, and I want to make certain that is continued in her memory.”
“Of course.”
His voice softens. “I will do everything I can to help and, of course, as a valued client of ours, we hope to continue that relationship going forward.”
“Of course.”
I say with a deep breath. “If I may receive the information I need by the close of business today, I would be most appreciative.”
“The close of business?”
He hesitates and I say with determination, “Yes, Donald. It is imperative I have that information as soon as possible. I hope I can count on your support.”
He responds with a quick, “I’ll see what I can do. Good afternoon, Polly, once again I am sorry for your loss.”
As I cut the call, my fingers shake as I rest the phone on the desk and a low laugh alerts me that I’m not alone.
Valentin is leaning against the door with an amused twinkle in his eye.
“That was impressive, Polly. I like how you handled that.”
My face blushes as I clench my thighs together because, for Christ’s sake, why is he so hot?
Somewhere between him leaving me and now, he has discarded his coat and jacket, and my mouth is actually watering at the sight of his chest peering out from a black silk shirt. His chest felt good when it was against me, but staring at it is doing mad things to my libido. He has rolled up the sleeves and the ink on his muscled forearms causes my mouth to drop and my eyes drop to his waist where the brown leather belt contains a bulge that doesn’t escape my attention.
“Do you like what you see?” He drawls with amusement and my face heats as I snap, “No! To be honest, I’m growing tied of this situation and would ask if you could all leave me to my grief.”
“Not happening, malyshka.”
He shrugs off from the door jamb and advances like a predator and my breath hitches as he perches on the edge of the desk and I hate that I can’t tear my eyes away from his crotch.
He diverts my attention by tucking his finger under my chin, forcing me to stare up at him and his eyes flash as he whispers huskily, “I am your new best friend. Where you go, I go. If you have anything to say, you say it to me. We eat together, breathe together and it’s your choice if we sleep together but understand one thing, all the time I am searching for answers that only you can provide, I am glued to your side whether you agree or not.”
“But.” I stutter as his rough thumb caresses my face and his eyes glitter as he stares deep into my soul.
“But what, malyshka?”
“But I have, um, rights—a life.”
My eyes flutter as his touch causes my body to respond in the most embarrassing way, and my heart is pounding as his grip tightens.
“You are fighting against me. There is no shame in giving into what your heart desires.”
His voice is soothing, almost hypnotic, and my eyes close as my body leans into his hold like the disgusting slut that I am. The heat building between my legs is rather embarrassing, and I gasp as his thumb is rubbing hard against my lips, inching inside as I open my mouth to welcome him in.
He leans down and whispers against my ear, “This can be a pleasurable experience for both of us, or it can be, shall we say, difficult. The choice is yours, my pretty English Rose. You have all the power here.”
“Do I?” My voice is high and I’m breathless as he blinds my senses to the shit I’m really in right now. He calls me his English Rose, which would be about right because roses have a habit of thriving in the deepest shit. I already know the only one with any power around here is currently wielding it like the fucking warrior he is and he is definitely taking no prisoners.