Chapter 19
Istruggle to keep up with him and as soon as we are clear of the property, I say angrily, “That was so rude. The poor woman was only trying to help.”
“There is nothing poor about that woman, Polly. I’ve met several like her and trust me, every word she speaks is attached to an agenda. Her own.”
“What do you think happened to the keys?”
I am running to keep up with him and he says over his shoulder, “I don’t think she had anything to do with the break in but her maid may know something.”
“I agree.” I pant as my mind races as fast as my feet right now.
“Do you think she broke in?”
“No.” Valentin carries on walking and I note his phone in his hand as he makes a call and speaks in a steady stream of Russian, and I don’t miss the urgency in his tone.
We reach the edge of Thorn House and I slow down. I’m not sure why I’m running after him at all. If he wants to sprint walk, that’s up to him, but I am getting weary and the fact there’s a sticky mess in my panties hasn’t escaped me and all I want is a nice hot shower and a fresh set of clothes.
He disappears off into the distance, still talking on his phone, and I take the opportunity to dodge out of his sight to gather my thoughts. So much is happening at a breakneck speed and I need some time to deal with information overload.
As I wander through the trees, I head deeper into them, desperate to get some time on my own for once. Since the Russians took over my life, so much has happened and I can’t think straight. I am an heiress. That still hasn’t sunk in and my excitement stirs with fear as I contemplate what that means for me.
I drop down onto a fallen tree trunk and sigh, staring around at the fresh spring growth that always signified new life beginning. Is this my spring? Out of the depths of winter and decay, new life is blossoming. My new life. Here at Thorn House and with it, more responsibilities than I’ve ever had before.
It’s a lot to take in and then there’s Valentin Romanov. The surly, arrogant Russian whose mood swings gives me whiplash. He will leave soon. I am preparing for that and it strikes me that things have changed since yesterday when I wanted him to leave more than anything. Now I want him to stay more than anything and part of me mentioned Marsha Steele as a carrot to tempt him. I could have kept quiet and he would never know. The minute I discovered I wanted him to stay was the moment I mentioned it. Just for one more day. One more night in his company and one more chance to experience something so immeasurable I will never experience it again.
I remain sitting for another hour before heading back to the house and a long hot bath, if I’m lucky. Part of me is excited to see where this adventure takes me, but the other part of me is hoping it won’t end because then I’ll no longer be needed. The Russians will return to whatever they do and I will be left to face my future that now involves a property empire. I can’t complain, the money is a dream come true, but it’s hard having so much when there is no one to share it with. The last twenty-four hours have been the most exciting ones of my life, and I am already figuring out ways to prolong the excitement.
As I head inside, I’m taken aback by the commotion. I notice several of Valentin’s men heaving boxes and shouting to one another in Russian.
“What’s going on?” I ask the one nearest to me, but he ignores me and moves past with an apologetic smile.
They appear to be loading the boxes into one of the cars outside, and I stare with growing dismay at my belongings being stolen from me in broad daylight. Excitement is now giving way to fury and I ball my hands into fists and set about finding the orchestrator of the entire thing.
I find him in the coach house ordering his men around and as I stand in the doorway, he casts a dismissive gaze over me, which hurts a lot.
He is no longer interested. It’s obvious. His soft looks are now replaced by cool venom, and my voice catches as I attempt to be assertive for once.
“What the hell is going on?”
“We’re leaving.” He points to a filing cabinet and two of his men set about emptying it.
“Then leave, but don’t take my possessions. It’s called stealing, you know.”
I’m furious and rather upset as my heart twists into a knot at the realization my adventure has come to a cruel ending.
He turns to me and the dark gleam in his eye should warn me to accept everything, but I face him with a furious gaze of my own and wait for the storm to break.
“We’re leaving for London. Your home in London, to be exact, and we are taking everything of interest with us.”
“Leaving.”
Why did my heart skip a beat when he said we? My earlier anxiety has been replaced by mounting excitement and I say quickly, “Why?”
He waves off my question as if it’s inconsequential and as his men vacate the room, he sighs and then turns to regard me through devilish eyes.
“I am taking charge of the situation.”
“What situation?”
For some reason he appears dejected and I detect a hint of vulnerability in his expression before he closes it down with a sharp,
“Artem is researching the maid, Justine to discover who she is working with. Meanwhile, we’ll head to Kensington and set up there where my men will continue their inspection of the paperwork and search your home.”
“I see.”
For some reason, his words reassure me because it appears that this adventure is long from over and I experience a lightness of spirit that wasn’t there a moment ago.
“What about this place?” I say, waving my hand around the emptying space.
“We lock up and leave. I’ve arranged for my usual security company to come this afternoon to install cameras. If anyone tries to break in, or merely walks within several feet of the boundary, we will know about it.”
“Security?”
My eyes widen. “But I don’t have the money for that.”
He appears confused and then shrugs. “You are not expected to pay. It is on our account.”
“Then I owe you.”
I nervously bite my lip and am not reassured when an evil glint sparks in his eye and he says slowly, “Yes, Polly. You owe me, and I expect payment in full.”
“How much are we talking about?” I’m giddy with worry because this world is way over my head and I may need to sell the houses to sleep soundly in my bed.
“I’m still working out the cost to you. I’ll let you know.”
“That’s not an answer. I expect an invoice up front before I agree to the work.”
For some reason, he finds it amusing and his lips twitch in a devilish smile as he says, “You can pay me in kind.”
I struggle to breathe as his wicked gaze slides across my body and he growls, “We don’t have time right now, but I’ll take my first installment later this evening. Now head for the shower and then meet me, ready to leave in one hour’s time.”
He points to the door. “Now leave. I have work to do.”
I don’t need to be told twice and as I head at speed out of the room, it’s with a smile on my face because all the time I apparently owe him something, he is not going anywhere.