Chapter 6
It was too tempting. I’m not a man who holds back from taking something he wants and right in this moment, I want Polly more than anything. She is so intriguing and temptation of a different kind because I am not used to meeting women like her.
My women are poised, refined and elegant. They are carefully contrived to present a package of excellence. Unlike my brothers, I don’t prefer whores. I like my women grateful and desperate for what I can give them. They want the lifestyle I can provide and the trophy of a Romanov on their arm. The happily ever after with their Russian prince.
This woman doesn’t know who I am or how powerful I can be. She sees me very differently to them and yet I can tell she wants me, anyway. She wants the man, not the image or the fairytale.
I’m not misguided enough to think she has fallen deeply in love with me. This is just a moment. An unguarded moment to snatch something unexpected. It changes nothing and, as I deepen the kiss, I am in no hurry to end it.
It’s a pleasurable experience, and she tastes of innocence mixed with intrigue. She is something different and I like it.
I tangle my fingers in her hair and hold on tightly. Her body arches toward mine in a desperate need for something she will hate when we allow reality back into our lives. She is kissing me with a desperation that makes her vulnerable.
I already know she is single. My checks have uncovered most of her history and it surprises me that a woman as attractive and sweet as she is, hasn’t been snapped up already.
Suddenly, she stills against me and a small shriek flutters against my throat.
She pulls away in haste and says fearfully, “Something touched me.”
I raise my eyes and smirk, “Obviously.”
“No.” Her voice wobbles. “On my ankle. Something ran over my foot. I’m sorry, Valentin, but I can’t cope with rats, no matter how strong you say I am.”
She pulls away and with a sigh, I follow her from the disgusting space, vowing to clean this shit up before I venture in here again.
As we head down the stairs, she shrieks, “Close that door because if a rat follows us, I’m holding you entirely responsible.”
It amuses me to hear her issuing orders. Nobody gives me orders—ever. Even my brothers ask rather than tell, and it’s kind of refreshing.
As I turn the key, it’s with a broad smile on my face because the game has now gotten interesting. What started as a fact-finding mission may turn into something way more pleasurable. So, as I search for the answers I need, I may as well enjoy an unexpected dalliance with an extremely attractive prisoner.
I findPolly in the kitchen draining a glass of water that she has filled from the tap and the heightened color on her face tells me it’s not just because of the rat.
She won’t meet my eye and merely says in a high-pitched voice, “So, um, I will leave you in peace to carry out your investigations. Call me when you’re done because I must head home to Sussex later; back to the real world.”
“I don’t think so.”
I kick out a bar stool and take a seat at the island in the center of the room and she turns, her expression one of incredulous dismay.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that we are going nowhere because somebody has burgled your coach house, and this residence is no longer safe to leave.”
“Burgled!”
She gasps and her face turns even whiter than it was before.
“We should call the police.”
She glances around wildly. “My phone is in my bag. I’ll call them at once.”
“There will be no need for that. They will never find them.”
“How do you know? Of course we will call the police?”
The anger in her stare is directed solely at me, and I say forcefully. “No police. Now, sit down and we will talk this through.”
I point to the stool nearest her.
“But…”
She appears to be in shock, and I growl, “Sit, Polly, and listen to what I have to say. It’s important.”
She drops onto the stool and stares at me in confusion as I say slowly, “Now. Who else had keys to this house other than your solicitor?”
“Nobody. At least I don’t think so.”
“Then call him and ask because there is no sign of forced entry, so whoever it was had access.”
“Are you sure about that?” She shakes her head and says thoughtfully, “I mean, it may have been unlocked, and they walked right in.”
“Perhaps.” I shrug. “But we need to understand what, or who, we are dealing with. So, call your solicitor and ask for a list of people who had access to this residence. Tell him you need the location of every set of keys and the same for the properties in London and Cornwall.”
Her eyes widen. “Do you think they’ve been burgled too?”
“Undoubtedly, yes.” I say with a surety that doesn’t sit well with me. I am so angry that we were complacent on this and say roughly, “Make the call, Polly and I’ll secure your other homes.”
I head out of the kitchen to find Artem. It’s about time we cracked down on this operation and until we have all the answers we seek, Polly will not be free of us. Until this mystery is unraveled, we are going nowhere, and she is about to learn that having me by her side guarantees answers faster than any statement she makes to the local cops.