Chapter Fifteen
Luke
“I really don’t want to go out,” Aurelia says.
“Tough,” I tell her as I signal and pull into the car park. “You’re going out and having some fun, whether you like it or not.”
It’s Saturday, and she’s been at the office for twelve hours for the past few days.
On Thursday, Ashford AgriTech finally agreed to a strategic partnership with the Rutherford Group.
They’ve created a new joint division, which is going to be run by Maddie Rutherford, the one proviso that Caesar insisted on.
I would have thought he’d have been a hundred percent against any kind of relationship with the Rutherfords, but it sounds as if the fact that Maddie’s having his baby seems to have smoothed things over there.
Since then, things have been kind of mad at the office. Aurelia especially has been flat out dealing with the PR fallout. She’s worked her socks off, and her eyes are beginning to have the same shadows beneath them that mine have.
On top of it all, it’s her birthday today, and her only concession to it so far has been taking five minutes to blow out the candles on a cake her department bought her before returning to work.
I’m driving her home now, and her friend Gracie is going to pick her up at seven and take her out with some friends.
Unfortunately, I won’t get to see the fun as Stacy’s on duty.
I don’t like leaving Aurelia since the whistle incident, but she’ll start asking questions if I ask to be with her every hour of the day, and even I need some rest from time to time.
Still, despite the fact that I won’t be there, I’m determined that she’s going to enjoy herself.
“It’s like having Hitler as a bodyguard,” she complains as I park. “I’m going to tell Ella to put an SS badge on your suit jacket.”
I scowl and turn off the engine. “That’s not even funny.”
“I think it’s hilarious.”
“You would. You like anything that casts me as the bad guy.”
“If the cap fits.”
We’ve been bickering like this for a couple of days.
Since the board meeting, she’s been high on adrenaline.
I don’t know whether it’s my fear that’s driven my professionalism out of the window, or if it’s lack of sleep that’s sending me slightly crazy, but there’s nothing I can do about it when she’s teasing me.
It feels like foreplay, except for the fact that it’s likely to last for several weeks, if not months.
I’m going to have such blue balls at the end of this.
We get out and go over to the elevator. “I don’t have anything to wear,” she complains, pressing the button.
“Want me to choose something from your wardrobe for you?” I follow her into the carriage and press the top button, and the doors slide closed.
“I don’t possess a boob tube,” she says. “Or a mini skirt.”
“Anything Lycra?”
“Only my cycling shorts.”
“They’ll do at a push.”
She makes an exasperated sound at the back of her throat. “And what should I wear on my top half? A bikini?”
“Now you’re talking.”
“Jesus. You’re such a bloke.”
“Yes, ma’am. I possess all the appropriate parts.”
“You mean you have a heart of stone and a brain the size of a walnut?”
That makes me laugh. “Something like that.” The doors open at the top floor, and we walk out and down to her door. “Can I use your bathroom?” I ask her.
“Don’t tell me you’re having trouble with your prostate at your age?” She gives me a mischievous look. “Want me to check it out?”
I chuckle as I touch the key card to the door. “It’s nothing to do with my prostate. You’ve kept me so busy, I haven’t had a chance to pee for about eight hours.”
She takes off her high heels with a sigh. “You know where the bathroom is.”
It was wet outside, so I toe my shoes off and leave them by the door. “Yeah, yeah. Wait there.”
“Yes, sir.”
I throw her a wry glance and head off to the main bathroom. I wasn’t joking about not having gone all day. I pee for what feels like five minutes, and almost groan when I finally finish.
“God, that feels better,” I announce when I go out. To my surprise, though, she’s not by the front door. “Aurelia?”
“In here.”
I tut as I walk down the hallway toward her bedroom. “You’re supposed to wait near the door,” I scold. She doesn’t say anything, and I stop in the doorway.
She’s standing at the bottom of the bed, her hands on her hips. I follow her gaze and blink as I see several items of underwear on the duvet.
My pulse speeds up. Why did she get those out? Not… for me?
“I…” Her voice trails off.
I look back at the underwear. It’s a beautiful set—a black satin teddy with lace cups, a garter belt, and a pair of black stockings.
Then my gaze falls on the long, pink object lying next to them. I didn’t see it at first because her duvet is pink and purple and it blended in with it. I walk forward, stand beside her, and stare at the item. It’s a vibrator.
Thoughts flick through my brain as if they’re on a Rolodex, but I can’t make any sense of the scene.
I look at Aurelia. She’s frowning. “What the fuck?” she says, obviously puzzled. The items aren’t piled on the bed in the middle. They’re laid out ritually. She reaches out a hand toward the vibrator.
Understanding flares like a firework inside me, and I catch her arm. “Stop.”
“What? Why?” Her face flushes. “I’m just going to put it away.”
“You didn’t get the items out?” I ask quietly.
She shakes her head.
“You’re sure?”
She looks back at the bed. “No. I think I’d have remembered. The underwear was in the chest of drawers. I haven’t worn it for months. And the…” She points at the vibrator, then glances at me, embarrassed. “I haven’t… for a while. That’s so weird.”
“Do you have a housekeeper? A maid? A cleaner who might have found them and left them there?”
She shakes her head again, her brow furrowing. “Hannah always comes on Mondays. And anyway, I never leave anything out. Why would she have got them out of the drawers?”
All my emotions drain away, to be replaced with liquid calm. “Come with me.” My voice is hard, and she looks at me in surprise, but I don’t have the time to reassure her. Instead, gripping her upper arm, I pull her with me, out into the hallway.
“Luke!” She stares at me, baffled.
I back away, looking down the corridor to the rooms further down the hall. Is he still here? I turn and half drag her into the living room. “Get your purse,” I bark, gesturing at where she left it on the table.
She retrieves it. “Why? Where are we going?”
“Just do as I say. Put your shoes on.” I wait for her to do so, looking around the room. There are no broken windows, but then we’re over twenty floors up. He must have entered via the door with a key card.
I place a hand in the small of her back and guide her to the door. She watches me slip my shoes on, then open the door.
“What’s the matter?” she asks. “What’s wrong?” A touch of panic lifts her voice an octave.
I guide her out and follow, and close the door behind me, then take out my phone and dial 111. When a woman answers and asks which emergency service I want, I say, “Police.”
“Luke,” Aurelia says.
I ignore her and talk to the woman on the other end of the phone as I propel Aurelia down to the elevator. “There’s been a break-in,” I tell the woman, and I give her my name and Aurelia’s name and address.
Aurelia stares at me, jaw dropping, as I press the button. “It’s the penthouse apartment,” I say. While I wait for the carriage to arrive, I explain that personal items have been left on the bed, but so far there’s no other sign of an intruder.
The doors slide open, and I put out a hand to stop them closing as I finish the conversation.
“A car will be with you very shortly,” the woman says.
“Thank you.” I end the call.
“Luke,” Aurelia says.
I take her into the elevator and press for the ground floor, then click the security button in my pocket. “Rick?”
“Receiving.”
“Code red,” I tell him.
He pauses, and there’s a thump and the sound of something breaking, and he says, “Fuck.” I think he knocked over his coffee cup. “Copy that,” he adds.
“He’s been in the apartment,” I tell him as the elevator descends.
“He left her underwear on the bed. I’m taking the principal down to the lobby.
I haven’t cleared the apartment. I don’t know if he’s still in there.
I’ve called the police. Can you ring Ella at home, please?
” She lives just around the corner, so she won’t be long.
“Copy that.”
I put the button back in my pocket and pull out my phone again.
“Luke,” Aurelia says, “what’s going on? You said ‘he’. Who did you mean?”
I look her in the eyes. “I promise I’ll tell you everything, but first I need to do my job. Okay?”
She frowns, but nods, and I dial Marcus’s number. He answers after a couple of rings. “Hello?”
“It’s Luke. Someone has broken into Aurelia’s apartment.”
“What?!”
“He laid some of her underwear on the bed.”
“Jesus. Where is she?” The phone crackles; there isn’t a great reception in the elevator.
“I’m taking her down to the lobby. The police will be here shortly. I’ve called the office and Ella’s on her way. Can I leave you to call Caesar and your father?”
“Yes. Caesar’s still here at the office. We’ll pick Dad up and be there shortly.” He ends the call.
I stare at my phone, wondering who else I should contact. My heart’s banging so hard I’m sure they can hear it in Wellington. How the hell did he get in? Where did he get a key card from?
“Luke.”
I blink, then focus on Aurelia. Her eyes are like saucers.
“Please,” she says. “What’s going on?”
I can’t keep it from her any longer. He’s forced our hand, and she needs to be told. I suppose I should leave it to her parents, or Marcus, but they’re not here right now, and I’m not lying to her anymore.
The elevator stops and the doors open. Relieved, I slide a hand under her arm and direct her out.
“One more minute,” I say, scanning the lobby. It’s empty apart from Roy on reception. I take her over to him. “Someone’s broken into Aurelia’s apartment,” I inform him.
His eyes widen. “Shit.”
“Yeah. I’ve called the police.”
“Was anything taken?”