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For a second, I wonder if he wants to lock me up in luxury and toss away the key.
I’d accuse him of playing the part of a jerkwad fiancé too well, but he’s a protector at heart. That night we met, he made sure I had food, water, and pain pills before he left.
I was a complete stranger at the time.
He’s not out to hurt people. Not deliberately.
“Stupid chivalrous Wardhole,” I mutter with a small laugh, then punch at my phone.
Yeah, send Reese. I’ll be there ASAP.
Twenty minutes later, my chest is a stone as I slide into the Lincoln’s back seat.
“Lucky lady! He never invites anyone to his Highland Park place,” Reese says as she greets me. “Any hint why you’re having clandestine meetings with our fearless leader at his Batcave?”
“Umm—” That’s a good question, and one I’m not sure I can answer.
Wardhole, you should have given her a reason instead of leaving me to lie.
“Big project! It’s the Winthrope deal, you know, and Wardhole that he is, he wants a late-night strategy jam.” Can she hear me clearly through clenched teeth?
Reese laughs. “What? The Highland Park place is supposed to be like, his personal retreat. He never mixes business there. The penthouse downtown is where he crashes during the week and entertains folks from the office.”
Her eyes flash me a skeptical look in the mirror.
“Oh, I don’t know then. Won’t it be fun finding out?” I say.
Dear Lord. I’m going to have to get better at lying to pull this fake engagement off.
“Right-o. If it’s classified, you could’ve just said so,” Reese says with a wink.
I throw back an awkward smile, inwardly licking my wounds.
Yeah, make that I’m going to have to get a lot better at fibbing, and fast.
Highland Park is farther away than I realize, even though it’s supposed to be roughly half an hour from the downtown center. Ward’s house is actually on the outskirts, the last property in a huge, otherworldly row of mega-mansions peaking through the trees and wrought-iron fences.
The road is dark and winding, and I’ve never been here before. It could only be more appropriate with lightning lashing through the sky.
“Thanks for picking me up, Reese. It would have been hard to see out here.”
“Do you wear contacts?” Reese asks.
“No, but my night vision isn’t perfect. Especially when I just want to...stare.”
She throws back her head and laughs. “Yeah, the homes are gorgeous. It’ll take you a little time to get used to them.”
While I’m remembering to breathe, she pulls through a soaring gate and crawls up a long twisty driveway a good distance from any other houses. The dark outlines of what look like cornstalks dot the skyline on one side.
“Ward has a farm?” I ask in disbelief.
“It’s not any farm I’ve ever seen, but it is rustic.” The mile-long driveway finally ends, and she pulls up to a three-story white stone house, every bit the modern castle I expected.
“Dang. Gotta hand it to him, it’s beautiful,” I say.
“Just wait until you’re inside,” she says with longing.
Holy Hannah. Inside with my “fiancé.”
The reality of what I’ve tentatively agreed to whacks me so hard I’m dizzy.
I have to focus on opening the door and planting one awkward foot on the ground.
“If you need a ride back, call me,” Reese says.
“Will do! Thanks.” I step completely out of the car.
I’m standing in a white circle drive with a freaking koi pond in the middle. The pond has a three-tiered fountain blooming over a pylon of black stacked rocks that look like they were dropped here from Hawaii. My parents are well-off, but this makes them look like beggars.
I swallow the anxious lump in my throat and turn to the large ornately carved double doors.
Okay. Deep breath. Go time.
Squaring my shoulders, I start up the magnificent slate staircase. If I’m going to fake being engaged to a billionaire for the next few months, I have to get used to this luxury.
I ring the doorbell and a man in a black suit answers. He bows slightly, so I wonder if I should curtsy.
Instead, I just wave. “Hi, I’m—”
“You’re expected, Miss Holly. The gentlemen are in the front foyer waiting for you. Allow me to show you the way.” He opens the door fully and waves his hand, welcoming me in.
Jeeves leads me to a large dim room that looks like a cross between a library and a living room. The back wall is lined with shelves of thick books from floor to ceiling. A worktable with four green-cushioned chairs stands in front of the shelved books, and a large black sectional stretches across the room closer to us.
“Hmm.” The butler pauses, scanning the room. “They were in here a minute ago. I’ll notify Mr. Brandt of your arrival. Do make yourself comfortable. Can I get you a coffee or a sherry?”
