But Nikolai still had nothing on his brother.
And man was Keifer big. He had to be at least six foot five, if not taller.
Speaking of the devil, he finally rounded the corner of the living room, coming to a dead stop directly in front of Farrow, who was still ranting and raving.
“Enough already, Farrow,” Keifer growled.
“How about you make me? Oh wait, you can’t,” he sneered.
Keifer lowered his brows, and I was sure would’ve beaten the hell out of him, if the beautiful older woman hadn’t walked up to Keifer’s side and placed her hand on his shoulder.
She looked to be around sixty or so, but despite her age, she was breathtakingly beautiful.
“Who’s that?” I asked in a sideways whisper, keeping my eyes on the newcomer.
Nikolai snorted as he kicked back in his recliner, elevating his feet and even closing his eyes in relaxation.
“That’s my momma,” Nikolai sighed. “She doesn’t speak verbally, but she will sign with us.”
Noted.
That would’ve been weird, had I not known.
“Blythe, I’d like you to meet my mother,” Keifer indicated the woman to his right. “Mom, I’d like you to meet Blythe.”
Something silent passed between the two. No actual words were exchanged, yet I just knew that some sort of communication had gone on.
“Hi!” I chirped, waving like the dork I was.
She grinned at me, returning my smile with one of her own, but wider. Happier.
“Blythe, I know you are wondering what’s going on, and I thought it’d be easier for us three to talk somewhere private. If you have questions after I explain some things to you, then she can answer them,” Keifer explained slowly.
I nodded and stood, curious to see what he was going to explain.
“Well, Farrow, I can’t say that it’s been pleasant, so peace out. Nikolai you, on the other hand, it has been a pleasure meeting. I hope you have a wonderful night,” I said as I offered the man my hand.
He popped one eye open, looked at my outstretched hand, and moved his eyes to his brother before he offered me his hand.
The whole time he kept his eyes on his brother, gauging his reaction.
I moved my own eyes to Keifer, surprised when I saw his back to us. His fists were clenched into hard balls at his sides, and his shoulders looked bunched and knotted underneath his polo shirt.
I yanked my hand away from Nikolai, barely restraining the urge to knock him upside the head for taunting his brother.
His mother, however, did not.
She walked right up to Nikolai, and smacked him on top of the head with some rolled up papers I hadn’t even noticed that she was holding.
“Owww!” Nikolai whined. “You’re giving me paper cuts.”
I highly doubted she injured him at all, which was why I started laughing softly underneath my breath at the two’s interaction.
She frowned at her son, waggled her papers once again, and then backed away, gesturing at me to follow.
I did, looking over my shoulder at Keifer as we passed, but just as quickly looking away.
His eyes were closed, but I could tell the second he realized that I was looking at him.
I heard large, heavy boots step into place at my back and wasn’t surprised when I looked over my shoulder again to find Keifer there, stalking me as I walked.
“This place is gorgeous,” I breathed as we passed what looked to be a formal dining room.
Where I grew up, the dining room table wasn’t used for dining. Everything took place at our dining room table but meals. It was used for laundry, games or, sometimes, both. In fact, my parents, to this day, still refused to eat at a dining room table, even during the holidays.
But this dining room was something else altogether. I highly doubted that laundry was folded in this room. In the center of the room, beneath a large, round, sparkling crystal chandelier, sat the largest table I’d ever seen. Made of a dark stained wood, possibly mahogany, it easily sat twenty-two people. The surface positively shone, reflecting the image of the candles in the center of the table.
But what made this room special was the intricate trim. In matching dark mahogany, the obviously hand-carved crown molding wrapped the room where the ceilings and walls met. Long stretches of gorgeous woodworking, carved to look like dragon skin, rounded out from each wall leading to every corner of the room where a cornice, carved in the likeness of a dragon’s head, sat. The chair rail and base molding also matched the dragon skin crown molding. It was incredible, and I’d never seen anything like it.
“It was built in 1850. The entire place is still original, drafts and all,” he chuckled, the sound slithering down my spine at the erotic smokiness.
“You’d never be able to tell,” I murmured, trailing my fingers along a stone wall that we passed.