We got up and strolled around the museum. After grabbing lattes at a nearby café, we hugged and parted. The knot in my stomach loosened. Talking with Eleanor had helped. I still wasn’t sure what I was going to do, but at least I had options.

  If I wanted to leave Roman, I could.

  As I walked down the street to the nearest tube station, I turned suddenly and searched the crowd. I saw nothing suspicious, so I turned back and kept walking. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being followed. Suddenly, I felt less sure of myself. I shook the feeling off.

  This was silly.

  If I wanted to leave Roman, I would leave. It was as simple as that. All his threats were probably just empty warnings, anyway. It wasn’t like he was a cold-blooded monster capable of being unspeakably vicious to me just because he didn’t get his way.

  CHAPTER 17

  ROMAN

  “Sir, you can’t go in there!”

  I waved the assistant off as I swung open the office door. “It’s okay, we’re family.”

  Richard glowered at me from behind his desk. “Half family.” He then nodded to his assistant. “It’s fine, Charles. Close the door, please, and cancel my eleven o’clock call.”

  After sending me a rather dirty look, the assistant bowed and closed the door behind me.

  I strolled further into Richard’s office. I took in the chandelier and massive antique desk. “Nice. A little last century for my taste, but still…”

  Richard stood and moved to lean against the front of his desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “Says the man who lives in a fucking gothic church.”

  I smirked. “Touché.”

  “What do you want, Roman? I’m a little busy.”

  I moved to the well-stocked sideboard and lifted the crystal brandy decanter. I turned to Richard and raised an eyebrow in a silent offer.

  Richard shook his head. “A bit early for me.”

  I splashed some brandy into a snifter and sat in one of the heavy upholstered chairs by the floor-to-ceiling windows. You could just make out the dark waters of the Thames beyond the treetops. It was early for me as well, but my morning with Aurora had rattled my nerves.

  It was unsettling. I wasn’t a man accustomed to being rattled, especially not by a woman I was dating. It was almost as if she had a stronger hold on me than I wanted to admit. Brushing the idea aside, I raised the glass in a mock toast. “I hear congratulations are in order. I understand you’re planning a wedding.”

  Richard frowned as he folded his equally tall frame into the chair across from me. He leaned back into the cushions and tossed one arm over the low back. His relaxed posture wasn’t fooling me. Our exchanges were always tense. “Who told you that?”

  I took a leisurely sip before answering. “Now, what fun would there be if I were to reveal my source? I also hear the planning is a bit rushed. Any news? Are you about to make me an uncle?”

  “Half-uncle and no. I simply see no reason to delay. When I see something I want, I claim it.”

  I stared at him long and hard, uncertain if that was a cut against me. While I had my sources on him, I was aware he also had his own sources in my personal life. Had he heard something? Had that arrogant prick jeweler said something? I gripped the glass harder. I was already beyond angered by Aurora’s continued stubbornness in telling me no. My anger would know no bounds if it became common knowledge, especially to my elder brother.

  Tempering my anger, I lightened my tone. “I assume my invitation got lost in the proverbial mail?”

  Richard smirked. “Something like that. It’s to be a small affair.”

  I nodded. “Sure, only several hundred of your closest friends and family at Westminster Abbey.”

  Richard adjusted his seat. Clearly, I was making him uncomfortable. Good.

  Changing the subject, Richard said, “I understand I have you to thank for Nicole becoming bothersome.”

  I raised my palm. “Who was I to stand in the way of true love?”

  Nicole was batshit crazy. I needed her away from Aurora and the only way I was going to accomplish that was if I gave her a bigger prize, Richard. She had always had an infatuation with him. Some misguided notion they were fated to be together because of old family connections. At least, that was one perk of being disowned and orphaned. No annoying family bullshit.

  Richard’s lips thinned. “She went after Elizabeth.”

  Fuck.

  I sat up straighter. I set my glass down on the small table between us. Leaning my forearms on my thighs, I clasped my hands together and sighed. “Dammit, Richard. Sibling rivalry aside, I hope you know I didn’t intend that.”

  It was one thing to bait one another, to repeatedly one-up each other in the business world by stealing companies and wrecking multimillion-pound deals just for the fun of it. It was another to go after each other’s woman. I would never have deliberately put his girl in harm’s way any more than I would expect him to do so with Aurora.

  Richard sighed. “That’s the problem with psychopathic narcissists. They can be so damn unreliable.”

  “Is the situation handled?”

  “It will be.”

  Seeing a lead-in to the true purpose for my unannounced visit, I leaned forward even further. “I may have a solution.”

  Richard stroked his jaw. After a long pause, he said, “I’m listening.”

  I knew I had to handle this delicately if I was going to get what I wanted. “I’m also aware of, shall we say, your auxiliary plans for your wedding.”

  It was purely by happenstance that I learned of Richard’s plans to gaslight his new bride on their wedding day. The plan was pure madness, which, of course, meant it was genius. So genius, in fact, that I had decided to do something similar to Aurora. Albeit, while Richard’s aim was to get his bride willing to leave the country with him, no questions asked, mine was to force Aurora’s hand into marrying me.

  Richard’s eyes, which were so similar to my own, narrowed. He clenched his jaw but said nothing. A true master negotiator. He wouldn’t admit to a thing unless I first confirmed what I already knew.

  I raised a placating hand. “Don’t worry. Harris didn’t betray you.”

  Harris was Richard’s right-hand man and his closest confidant. They had been friends for decades. Despite that, I knew Richard probably wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him between the eyes if he thought he’d betrayed him. I’d do the same. We were, after all, cut from the same cloth, even if my cloth came from the wrong side of the bed.

  Richard’s jaw clenched. “Who then?”

  “An enterprising footman from that secluded Victorian estate of yours. Apparently, he overheard you and Harris discussing your plans and thought he could make some money out of it.”

  Richard stayed silent. As much as I enjoyed baiting him, I let him off the hook. “Don’t worry. As a gesture of goodwill, I took the liberty of taking care of it for you.”

  Richard nodded. That was all I was going to get. A thank you was far beyond the noble Duke of Winterbourne’s capabilities. Neither was it expected.

  Richard steepled his fingers. “And how much is this gesture going to cost me?”

  I leaned back and took a sip of brandy. “Not much. An invitation to your wedding and use of a certain facility on your estate.”

  “What facility?”

  “The asylum building.”

  Richard cleared his throat. “Well, you are very well-informed, I’ll give you that.”

  “I try.”

  “Will you have need of the staff as well?”

  “Yes.”

  “For how long?”

  “I think a week should do it.”

  Richard smirked. “A whole week. I only needed one night.”

  “To be fair, that isn’t entirely true. You did, after all, keep Elizabeth on your estate for months afterward.”

  Richard rose and crossed to the sideboard. He tossed over his shoulder as he went, “Touché.”

  I waited as he poured himself a drink and returned to his seat. “So, what is your plan?”

  “I think it’s best if we kept the details to ourselves, don’t you?”

  Richard nodded. “Probably for the best. And how does Nicole play into this?”

  “I assume you are going to need someone to blame for what happens, to avoid a nationwide manhunt for the shooter.”

  “True.”

  “The victim’s brother could make for a powerful witness in that regard. I also happen to have a certain homicide detective on the payroll who, let’s just say, has no moral qualms about framing a woman for murder.”

  Richard’s lips twitched just as he was lifting the glass to his mouth. “Half-brother.” He took a long sip before leaning back. “It could work. It would certainly solve both of our problems.”

  There it was again. A dropped hint he knew Aurora had refused my proposal. “Both?” I asked evasively.

  Richard laughed. “You didn’t think I was going to let your kind gift of Nicole go unanswered, did you? I may have convinced her to consider… redirecting… her attentions back to you.”

  I laughed. “Nice try. I’m afraid you would not have been successful. Nicole is dead set on being your duchess. I doubt she will settle for an orphaned bastard.”

  “A billionaire several times over bastard.”

  I stared down into the amber liquid remaining in my glass. “A bastard nonetheless,” I muttered under my breath.

  Richard rose and held out his glass. “So we have an understanding?”

  I rose as well and clinked his glass. “We do.”

  We both drank, then crossed the room to set our empty glasses on the sideboard.

  As I turned to leave, Richard stopped me. “I believe we are both planning on bidding on that biotech firm that’s going on the chopping block in a fortnight.”

  “Callahan?”

  He nodded. “That’s the one.”

  “Well, you were going to be bidding. I was going to be winning.”

  Richard rolled his eyes. “Perhaps we should consider a joint bid?”

  I stared at him. This was the first time he had ever even hinted at wanting to be anything other than business adversaries. Not wanting to let him know how much the gesture meant to me, I shrugged. “It would make sense. We each control technology the other would need to truly succeed in the venture.”

  “I’ll have my solicitors contact your solicitors.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  I turned to leave, but as I placed my hand on the doorknob, I turned back. “I am truly happy for you, Richard. Elizabeth seems like a lovely girl.”

  It was the first time I saw him genuinely smile. “She is.”

  I nodded. Before I could leave, he countered, “I could say the same thing about Aurora. I hear she is an accomplished pianist.”

  “The best I’ve ever heard. She truly is remarkable. Every piece she plays comes from her soul. You’d be enthralled listening to her play Beethoven alone.”

  He nodded. “Perhaps we could arrange that… someday.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “It sounds as if I will be offering you congratulations soon as well.”

  I clenched my jaw at the subtle reminder Aurora had turned me down, not once, but several times already. While most wouldn’t count a proposal made while I was cock deep in her tight pussy, I did.

  What I had planned was brutally ruthless, but I had warned her. Repeatedly. She should have known by now that I was not the type of man who would simply take no for an answer. If anything, what was about to happen was her fault.

  She’d pushed me to this extreme.

  If I had had my way, she would have said yes, and we would be making plans for a wedding far more spectacular than my brother’s. But she’d said no. Repeatedly.

  And now she would pay.

  There was a risk, of course, that I was crossing a line. That if she learned of my involvement, as she would inevitably do, she would never forgive me. However, by then she would be my wife and hopefully be pregnant with our first child. I would link her to me in the eyes of God, man, and in blood. There would be no going back. She would truly be mine.

  And after all, she had forgiven my involvement in her parents’ deaths. There was no reason to believe I couldn’t persuade her to forgive what I was about to do as well.

  Chilling memories of Aurora launching herself toward our bedroom balcony, intending to throw herself over to escape me, stopped my wayward thoughts. For the briefest of moments, I reconsidered moving forward with my plan.

  Perhaps this was a game too far?

  Richard broke into my thoughts. He quipped sarcastically, “That is assuming you could manage to persuade such a lovely, accomplished woman to accept an arrogant asshole like yourself?”

  Although said in a teasing tone, the barb stung.

  It hardened my resolve.

  “Trust me, I’ll give her no other choice but to say yes.”

  CHAPTER 18

  ROMAN

  As I entered my darkened home, I recognized the thick chordal textures of Rachmaninoff’s Prelude in C-sharp minor. It was an extremely dark and emotional piece.

  I told my butler to give the staff the night off and waved him away as I approached the open plan living area where Aurora was playing. As night had fallen, the stained-glass windows above her were devoid of their usual bright jewel tones and instead loomed over her like a dark, disapproving presence. A century earlier, there would have been solemn worshippers kneeling in this very spot, as they begged an unforgiving God for mercy. The staff had lit several gold candelabras in the room, which cast an unearthly glow on the scene.

  Aurora’s deft fingers raced over the ivory keys as she swayed to the music, eyes closed. A surge of pride warmed inside my chest. The clever girl was playing the advanced and complicated piece entirely from memory.

  As I stepped closer, there was the sour tone of a missed note.

  She knew I was here, watching her.

  Still, she gave no indication and continued to play.

  It was a macabre piece, filled with anxiety and despair. The melody was meant to mimic the somnolent bells of a funeral while the rapid tempo of the B section was meant to inspire a heightened sense of fear and angst.

  Her playing this piece spoke volumes.

  I settled into a high-backed oxblood leather chair by the banked fire and listened.

  Forced myself to listen would be more accurate.

  I listened as my sweet girl poured out all her fear, anxiety, and trauma onto the ivory keys.

  I had done this to her.

  And, if I followed through with my plans, would do much worse before all was said and done.

  The candles illuminated her pale face. I watched with terrifying fascination as the play of emotions she could not contain swept over her features.

  As the music heightened to a crescendo, it washed over me like a wave of shame and revulsion. I was drowning in the dark waters. Aurora’s notes were wrapping around the both of us. I tried to shake off the disturbing thoughts, but they clung to my soul like a spider web.

  My God, I loved her.

  I love her.

  Never in my life had I experienced the true, heart-wrenching pain of another individual. I had always been immune to such weak emotions, hardened by a lifetime of neglect and detachment. I had convinced myself that what I felt for her was above love. To me, love was a frivolous waste of an emotion. I had wanted her above all others from the moment I first laid eyes on her, but that wasn’t love. It was obsession, a drive to possess a treasure. It was supposed to be nothing different from the emotion I felt when I acquired a hard-to-obtain company, or new technology, or bent someone to my will.

  It was a rush of power, not love.

  It was never supposed to be love.

  I glanced at the sideboard in my study, visible through the arched doorway. Fuck, I wanted a drink. I shook my head. No, I swore I would never drink like that in front of Aurora. A casual drink before attending an event, yes. A celebratory drink at a party, sure. But I never wanted her to witness me drinking in anger or when stressed. As it was, it tortured me that she’d seen me drunk and raving last night.

  Love.

  Even my cold, logical brain could not deny that the very thing I just described was a sign of love, of caring. Fuck.

  I love her.

  I rubbed a palm over my face.

  I was not prepared for this. The reality I had been deluding myself into believing, that the only reason I wanted to propose to her was because she would make a good mother to my future children, was absurd.

  Goddammit, I wanted to propose because I wanted her as my wife, in the purest sense of the word.

  Not the mother of my children.

  Not a trophy possession.

  Not a fuck toy.

  Not my own cute little whore.

  My wife. My love. My own.

  This was a disaster. I knew my nature. If I was ruthless when I thought my motive was a mere desire to possess, I could not imagine what I would be capable of when I knew it was love.

  Once more, I stared at her beautiful profile. This sweet, innocent, talented, amazing woman who didn’t deserve me. She didn’t deserve the darkness I had brought, and would bring, into her life. She was right to run as far away as possible from me.

  Now, it was too late.

  Now that I finally accepted that it was love that drove me… it was too late for both of us.

  Far. Too. Late.

  Aurora’s hands stilled.

  I rose and crossed to her.

  She turned on the piano bench. Her eyes were downcast, avoiding my gaze as she spoke. “Did you know Rachmaninoff dreamed he was attending his own funeral and that was what inspired this piece?” Her voice was soft and low, devoid of emotion.

  Careful not to startle her, I reached down and cupped her cheeks in my palms. I gently turned her face up to me.

  Tears glinted in her sapphire eyes. “Roman, I⁠—”

  I swiped at her tears with the pad of my thumb. “Stop. Please, baby. Don’t say another word.” I lifted her off the bench and pressed her body close to mine as I wrapped an arm around her. “I was wrong. I never should have pushed you into accepting my proposal. It was too soon.”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89