Freed (Assassin's Revenge #3)

“She didn’t leave it to your father?” I probed. Alexander talked about him so rarely. Everything he had said had alluded to the fact that they had a difficult relationship.

His expression closed. “They were estranged.” His voice was clipped. “Come, let’s unpack and go to bed. We have a lot of exploring to do over the next week, if you want to see all the Roman ruins in this part of the world.”

***

Alexander:

Common sense dictated I show her to one of the guest rooms. What was the point of becoming attached to her? I couldn’t allow myself that luxury. She was most likely working for one of my enemies and I couldn’t forget that.

Yet, I threw open the door to the master bedroom, with its antique four-poster bed and its warm, colourful coverlets. She gave me an amused look. “That’s a convenient bed to tie women up in.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I told her honestly. “I’ve never brought a woman here.”

“Oh.” Her voice was small.

I didn’t want to spend time dwelling on why I was breaking every single rule around her. I’d never taken anyone to my house in the Paris suburbs, yet I had taken her there two years ago. I’d never brought anyone to the farmhouse, yet here she was in my bedroom. Right from the start, she’d been different.

She could be trying to kill you, a voice in my head reminded me.

I ignored that voice. “Come on, Jenny. Let me show you where the bathroom is.”

***

The next morning, I gave her the full tour. The farmhouse and the gardens, the neat rows of grapevines and the silver shimmer of the olive leaves. She sighed in pleasure. “I wouldn’t be able to leave,” she said. “It’s so beautiful here. What’s it like when it gets colder?”

“The wind blows through every crack in the place.” I remembered the few times I’d spent winter here. “The fireplaces roar and you huddle around them. In the night, you slip a hot water bottle between the sheets to keep you warm.”

“Couldn’t you use some of your millions to fix it up?”

I looked at her with amusement. “What would be the point of that? It’s part of the place’s charm.”

She laughed. “You are the strangest billionaire I’ve ever met, Alexander,” she remarked.

“Have you met many?” I was joking, until I noticed that her expression had gone flat. What was she hiding?

“No, of course not,” she replied. She tossed me an arched look from under her eyelashes. “Are they that easy to find?”

She was acting. Perhaps she was thinking about her former master. The money would explain why she’d stayed long enough for him to scar her as deeply as he had done. But my explanation didn’t ring true. She didn’t seem materialistic to me. The clothes had made her uncomfortable, the jewelry even more so.

I was missing something obvious. Some piece of the puzzle that would make her behaviour make sense. I filed the snippet away in the back of my brain, putting it with all the other little pieces that didn’t quite add up.

I will figure you out, Jenny, I vowed. I will find out what you are hiding.

***

I still showed her the barn.

“This is where I tied up my first girl,” I said.

“So you did bring someone here,” she pointed out.

I shook my head. “I was seventeen. This was my aunt’s house then, and Angela never spent the night.”

“Where did you tie her up?” She looked around and spotted the central support pillar. “Ah, here?” Her voice was teasing.

My lips curved into a smile. I had no idea why I was uncovering a memory that had, up to this instant, always been marred by what had come after. “Want to find out?”

She laughed, a bright, merry sound. “Reliving your youth, Alexander?” She moved to the pillar, her back in contact with the weathered wood. “What should I do, Sir?”

She was wearing a halter neck pink dress that made her look like a tasty bit of candy. I untied the knot at the back of the neck and the fabric dropped to her waist. She wasn’t wearing a bra; her beautiful breasts were bare, the pretty pink nipples a perfect match to the fabric. Desire flooded my senses.

“Your nipples are already erect, cherie,” I whispered in her ear, hearing the ragged edge in my voice. I heard her sharp inhale of breath, saw the pulse beat at her neck. “Your body is begging me for this.”

She bit her lip, her eyes staying downcast.

I was having none of that. Looking into her eyes was akin to drowning in a green sea, yet never had a man walked to his death with more willingness than I did. My fingers reached out and tipped her chin up. “Look at me, not the floor.”

“Yes Sir,” she exhaled. “I’m sorry.”

I was intent on getting her out of her dress. “Get naked, cherie.”