Might never be hers again.
Remy had decided he wanted it as a trophy. What else could it be to him other than a prize to gloat over? He had luxury homes all over Europe and the Mediterranean. Besides, if he wanted to see snow he could go to his chalet in the Swiss Alps.
No, Tarrantloch was his way of publicly claiming victory over her father. What pained her the most was Remy could so easily turn around and sell it once it had served its purpose. And, one thing she knew for certain, he wouldn’t be offering it to her for mate’s rates. He was a ruthless, hard-nosed businessman. He wouldn’t allow sentimentality or emotions to influence him.
But she was not going to give up until she had exhausted every possible avenue to get it back.
Angelique walked with Remy over the pebbled driveway to the front door. ‘Have you kept on any of my father’s staff?’ she asked.
‘None, apart from the gardener, and he’s on notice.’
She raised a brow. ‘Why not?’
‘Because not one of them was doing a proper day’s work.’ He took out the keys he had in his pocket and unlocked the heavy door. ‘I’m going to conduct some interviews while we’re here. I want to employ locals, people who know the house and want it to be preserved. Your father surrounded himself with a motley crew of sycophants who didn’t do much more than take up space.’
Angelique was inclined to agree with him. More than inclined. She had never liked the obsequious butler and housekeeper her father had hired. The devoted staff her grandparents had employed had left in dribs and drabs over the years, either through retirement, death or disenchantment. ‘So who’s here now?’
‘Just us.’
She blinked. ‘What? No one at all? Just us?’ Alone?
He gave her a wickedly sexy smile. ‘It’s our honeymoon, ma chérie. We’re not supposed to have people with us.’
Her belly gave a little quivery swoop. ‘But what about the dinner with Robert Mappleton? After all, isn’t that why we’re here?’
‘That’s not until the end of next week.’
‘Why not get it over with this week?’
‘Ah, but that would appear too eager, n’est-ce pas? Better to let him think I’m in no great hurry to play ball.’
Angelique sent him a wry look. ‘I can see why you’ve accumulated the wealth you have at such a young age: you’re as cunning as a fox.’
He grinned as he held the door open for her. ‘No point in being too predictable. Where’s the fun in that? No, my philosophy is to keep them guessing for as long as you can and then reel them in when they least expect it.’
Is that what you’re doing with me? Angelique wondered as she followed him inside. Hadn’t she already been reeled in? She had been so determined to keep out of his bed, to keep immune to his potent charm, but as soon as he’d kissed her at the wedding ceremony in Dharbiri her fate had been sealed. What hope did she have resisting him when his passionate possession made her feel so alive and vital as a woman?
Coming here with him for a two-week ‘honeymoon’ was only going to make her need of him all the more entrenched. She knew that, but had come anyway, even though she could have made up some excuse to do with her new contract. She had signed and emailed it earlier that day. Her manager had already lined up a shoot with three of the biggest names in haute couture in Paris.
Angelique rubbed her hands up and down her arms as the chilly air of the old house goose-bumped her skin. ‘Right now I’m kind of wishing I had gone to Barbados.’
Remy flashed her a quick grin. ‘Where’s your sense of adventure, ma petite? It won’t take long to lay a fire.’
‘There’s central heating. The main switch is over there.’
‘I’ll see to it and the luggage while you have a wander around. Make yourself at home.’
She gave him a flinty look. ‘Excuse me, but up until a few days ago this was my home.’
‘Then you won’t need me to take you on a guided tour, will you?’
Angelique glowered at him. ‘Why are you doing this? Why are you rubbing my nose in it like this? I realise you have issues with my father over what happened between him and your grandfather but that’s nothing to do with me. I didn’t do any dodgy deals. Why am I the scapegoat?’
His look was brooding and intractable. ‘T
his isn’t about you, Angelique. Last year your father circulated rumours about me that cost me millions. I don’t take that sort of stuff lying down. I wanted revenge, not just for myself but also for what happened to my family. My grandfather almost lost everything when your father pulled the rug from under him.’
‘You don’t even like your grandfather!’ Angelique threw back. ‘Why are you so keen to get justice for him?’