“Yes!” I shout in encouragement. She dances over to me.
“Whoa! Whoa! Barrel down!” both Jenkins and I exclaim simultaneously.
“Sorry.” She giggles and opens the gun. “Can I have another shoot?”
“Of course. We have all morning. And it’s ‘shot.’ ”
She beams at me. Her nose is pink, but her eyes are bright and lively with the thrill of a new experience. Her smile could melt the hardest of hearts, and mine fills with elation. It’s so gratifying to see her enjoying herself after all she’s been through.
* * *
Alessia and Maxim sit in the trunk of Mr. Jenkins’s car, their legs hanging over the back, sipping coffee from a thermos and eating pastries with some kind of meat inside. Alessia thinks it’s pork.
“You did well,” Maxim says. “Twenty out of forty clays isn’t bad going for a first time.”
“You did much better.”
“I’ve done this before. Many times.” He takes a sip of coffee. “Did you enjoy it?”
“Yes. I’d like to do it again. Maybe when it is not so cold.”
“I would like that.”
She smiles as her heart skips a beat. He wants to do this again, too. That’s a good sign, surely. She takes a sip of coffee.
“Ay!” She grimaces.
“What is it?”
“No sugar.”
“Is it that bad?”
She takes another cautious sip and swallows. “No. It’s not that bad.”
“Your teeth will thank you. What would you like to do now?”
“Can we walk by the sea again?”
“Sure. And then we can go for lunch.”
* * *
Jenkins returns. “The trap’s all packed, sir.”
“Great. Thanks for this morning, Jenkins.”
“It’s a pleasure, my—sir.”
“I’d like to take my guns back to the Hideout and give them a clean there.”
“Of course. You’ll find all you need in the case.”
“Excellent.”
“Good day, sir.” We shake hands. “Miss,” he says, and he touches his fingers to his cap as a slow flush spreads across his cheeks.
“Thank you, Jenkins,” Alessia says, and when she gives him a brilliant smile, his cheeks redden more. I think she has a new conquest.
“Shall we go?” I ask her.
“It is your gun?”
“Yes.”
She frowns.
“Jenkins keeps it for me. By law, it has to be locked up. We have a gun cabinet at the Hideout.”
“Oh,” she says, her confusion obvious.
“Ready?” I ask to distract her.
She nods.
“I’ll have to take this home.” I hold up the gun case. “And we can go for a walk on the beach, then somewhere nice for lunch.”
“Okay.”
I open the car door for her, and she gives me a fleeting smile as she climbs in.
That was close.
Just tell her.
Every day I don’t tell her who I am, I’m lying to her.
Fuck.
It’s as simple as that. I open the boot and place the gun case inside.
Just fucking tell her.
I get in beside her, close the car door, and glance across at her.
“Alessia—”
“Look!” she exclaims, and points through the windscreen. Before us stands a magnificent buck deer, its coat gray and long, appropriate for the winter months, its usual white spots hidden in among its fur. Where the hell did it come from? It’s less than four years old, judging by its size, but it sports an impressive set of antlers, which I know it’ll shed over the next couple of months. I wonder if it’s from the fallow deer herd we have at the Hall or if it’s wild. If it’s from the Hall, how did it get out? It peers down its imperious nose, fixing us with black eyes.
“Ua,” Alessia whispers.
“Have you ever seen a deer?” I ask.
“No.”
We stare at the beast as it flares its nostrils and sniffs the air.
“Maybe the wolves ate them all,” I whisper.
She turns to me and laughs, head back and free. It’s such an endearing sound.
I made her laugh!
In the nearby field, Jenkins starts his Land Rover, spooking the buck. It rears back, turns, and bolts over the drystone wall into some scrubland.
“I didn’t know there were wild animals in this country,” Alessia says.
“We have a few.” I start the car, feeling that the moment to tell her is lost.
Bollocks.
I’ll tell her later.
And deep down I know the longer I wait, the worse it’s going to be when I finally spill the beans.
My phone buzzes in my jacket. It’s a text, and I know it’s from Caroline.
That’s another issue I have to deal with at some point. But right now I’m going to take my lady for another walk on the beach.
* * *
Alessia holds up the little dragon, a lantern in the darkness as they lie in bed. “Thank you,” she whispers. “For today. For yesterday. For this.”
“It’s my pleasure, Alessia,” Maxim responds. “I’ve had a wonderful day.”
“I did, too. I don’t want it to end. This has been the very best day.”
Maxim strokes her cheek with his index finger. “The very best day. I’m glad I got to spend it with you. You really are lovely.”
She swallows, glad that the fading light will hide her blush. “I’m not sore anymore,” she whispers.
Maxim stills, his eyes searching hers.
“Oh, baby,” he says and suddenly his mouth swoops down on hers.
* * *
It’s after midnight, and Alessia dozes beside me. I must tell her about who I am.
Earl of Trevethick.
Fuck.
She deserves to know. I rub my face.
Why am I so reluctant to come clean?
Because I don’t know how she feels about me.
And also, apart from my title, there’s the small matter of my wealth.
Bugger.
My mother’s suspicious nature has left its mark.
Women will only want you for your wealth, Maxim. Remember that.
God. Rowena can be such a bitch.
Gently, in order not to wake her, I lift a strand of Alessia’s hair and wind it around my finger. She was reluctant to let me buy her clothes, reluctant when she has nothing. She doesn’t want me to buy her a phone, and she always chooses the cheapest item on the menu. This is not the modus operandi of a gold digger.
Is it?
And the other day she said that I have no rivals. I think she cares for me. If she does, I wish she’d tell me. It would make this so much easier. She’s talented, bright, and brave—and eager. I smile thinking about her carnal appreciation. Yes. Eager. I lean over and kiss her hair.
And she can cook.
“I love you, Alessia Demachi,” I whisper, and I lay my head on my pillow and gaze at her…this beguiling woman. My beautiful, precious girl.
* * *
I’m woken by my phone. It’s morning, and too bloody early judging by the dim light seeping through the space between the blinds. Alessia is wrapped around me as I reach across and pick up my phone. It’s Mrs. Beckstrom, my neighbor in London.
Why the hell is she calling me?
“Hello, Mrs. Beckstrom. Is everything all right?” My voice is low so I don’t wake Alessia.
“Ah, Maxim. There you are. I am sorry to call you so early, but I think you’ve been burgled.”
Chapter Twenty
“What?” A chill sweeps across my skin as every hair on my body stands to attention, and suddenly I’m fully awake. I run my fingernails over my scalp.
Burgled? How? When?
My mind and heart are racing.
“Yes. I was taking Heracles for a morning walk. I do so love a walk beside the river early in the morning, whatever the weather. It’s so quiet and restful.”
I roll my eyes. Get on with it, Mrs. B.
“Your front door is open. It may have been open for a few days. I don’t know. But I thought it odd. So today I had a peek inside, and of course you’re not there.”
Did I lock the flat in my panic to leave and go search for Alessia?
I can’t remember.
“I’m afraid the place is a frightful mess.”
Fuck.
“I was going to call the police, but I thought I’d call you instead, dear.”
“Well. Thank you. I appreciate it. I’ll deal with this.”
“I am so sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”
“It’s okay, Mrs. B. Thank you.” I hang up.
Shit! Fuck! Bollocks!
What have the fuckers stolen? I don’t have much—all the important stuff is in the safe. I hope they haven’t found that.
Bugger. Bugger. Bugger.
What a fucking nuisance. I may have to go back to London, and I don’t want to go. I’m having way too much fun with Alessia. I sit up in bed and look down at her. She’s blinking up at me sleepily, and I give her a reassuring smile.
“I’ve got to make a call.” I don’t want to worry her with these details, so I get up, wrap the throw around my waist, and head into the spare room with my phone. I call Oliver as I pace the floor.