Chapter 3
The Stranger
LANIE
Dinner required dressing “smart”, so I went for a nice cocktail dress.
I packed several options—not sure if anyone would dress for dinner.
I longed for my American existence where I could get away with jeans no matter what.
My aristocrat-born mother only asked for a bare minimum most nights—what Chloe called “hard pants” in the evening.
My late father had shaken away her British aristocratic bent by the time I was born, getting her to compromise.
The more I hung around wealthy Brits, I understood my mother’s neuroses.
Seated by Caleb, I looked at the others at the table. I’d already been introduced to most. Caleb finished that job while we waited for the host who I guessed by now was my mysterious admirer. I was famished and ready to dig into surf and turf. Where was the man of the house?
“It’s so like him to be late, you know?” William, a venture capitalized, agonized. “We wait on him.”
“Darling, it’s his house,” Anastasia, his wife, said.
Anastasia was pretty but far older than me.
I gathered she was the type who travelled everywhere with her husband.
While many wives were content to give their spouses space on a boring hunting weekend, she was overbearing.
I didn’t understand the need to spend every waking moment with your spouse.
Then again, I’d never had anyone I longed to travel anywhere with longterm.
“Sorry everyone.” A deep voice said.
I looked over my shoulder at the mystery man. I expected him to at least flinch, but he spoke as if directly to me.
“I had a call. It went on too long and I do apologize.”
The man sat at the head of the table.
Caleb cleared his throat. “Baz, are you going to be rude to my guest?”
“Oh, no,” Baz stood, reaching his hand out. “Basil Osgoode. And you are?”
“This is Lanie Day,” Caleb said. “I met her at Koda while she was out partying with her friends. She’s a laugh.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said. “Thank you for hosting.”
“And thank you for coming.” He put far too much emphasis on the last word.
I barely kept a straight face. To distract myself, I patted my skirt until I felt it was sufficiently righted.
I wonder if he thought about getting between my thighs.
I felt terrible for sitting next to Caleb—a man I genuinely enjoyed—while thinking about his bizarre voyeuristic friend.
Unfortunately, Baz ticked all the boxes—he was too old for me, probably a head case, had more money than anyone ought to, his accent melted me, and he was off-limits.
I wondered what he’d sound like looming over me in bed.
Would he be as rough with me as I hoped?
“What is it that brings you to our little island?” Baz asked.
I shook my stupor and blushed. “My friend, sister, and I are staying on here for a bit at my older sister’s place. We’ve been in and out. I filmed a bit on and off here this year.”
“She’s an actress,” Caleb declared.
“Apologies, I hadn’t heard of you.”
“Baz, you live under a rock and never watch television,” Caleb sighed.
“Oh, television,” Baz said with derision.
He tried to take me down a peg. I wasn’t having it.
“Actually, while I admit I’m an up-and-comer on the screen, I’ve done some stage plays and I’m currently in the ensemble cast of Leah Roughy’s new project.”
“Leah? Really?”
“Do you know her?” I asked.
“Yes. Of course,” Basil said.
Of course he knew her.
“She’s great,” I said.
“She’s wild,” Baz said. “No doubt about it. Are you wild, too, Lanie?”
I sipped my wine, never dropping eye contact. “I don’t know. What do you think?”
He chuckled. “I would love to know more. Thankfully, you’re stuck with us for the weekend.”