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“It won’t take long,” Fox commented. “My driver is exceedingly fast.”
Sunny didn’t blame the driver, wanting out of the car and now. Her heart hammered against the wall of her chest, but she kept smiling sweetly at Fox, bracing herself for worse to come. On the surface he appeared positively charming, but smarmy as hell.
The car sped off, moving swiftly across the countryside.
Doubts assailed her. “Where are you taking me?” she asked, needing clarification, trying to keep her mood flirtatious.
“To my ‘lair,’ as you so eloquently put it.” He gave a dark chuckle and reached out to stroke her cheek with the back of his fingers.
Sunny had to will herself not to flinch at his touch.
As if encouraged, he leaned over and kissed her mouth.
His lips were cold and repulsive.
It required all her strength not to jerk away. She pressed her lips to his, pretending to return the gesture.
“What fun we shall have,” he said as he drew away, and looked her over as if undressing her with his eyes.
Mercifully, they pulled up in front of his manor house shortly after.
The car crunched on a gravel drive, and the chauffeur was out within a heartbeat, opening the door for her. Again she couldn’t make eye contact with him, which disturbed her greatly.
“It’s been a while since I’ve had company,” Fox said as he put his hand on her back, directing her towards the double doors at the entrance. “I’m looking forward to this immensely.”
Sunny looked up at the house. It was a massive Georgian building, elegantly designed. This would be an exciting moment for many women, being taken into a house like this by an apparently wealthy man. But all she saw was a potential prison. And she was walking into it willingly.
It had to be, she reminded herself.
Double polished wood doors inset with glass panels opened onto a dramatic entrance hallway. As they entered the building, Sunny heard the car driving away at high speed.
A massive, ornate chandelier tinkled overhead as the doors slammed shut behind them. The atmosphere changed instantly.
Sunny swallowed. It was as if a vacuum had been created by the doors closing at her back. She tried not to react, looking at her surroundings instead. “What a beautiful chandelier.”
“From the Palace of Versailles.”
Sunny looked up in awe, wondering what he’d done to gain such a valuable and delicate possession. Shipping it here from France in itself would be a difficult endeavor, and she doubted it was legally acquired.
Twin staircases curved up either side of the hall, meeting on the upper floor. Underfoot, grey marble tiles covered the floor. The tiles were large and decorated with what might have been a gold printed pentangle. Sunny didn’t want to look too closely. Instead she turned his way and nodded. “Elegant and classical, just as I would’ve expected from a gentleman like you.”
“I’m glad you approve.” His eyes glittered, turning silver and back again. “I hope this convinces you to stay for some time...”
And end up like the chauffeur, bowed in servitude and devoid of personality, under the viscount’s control? No way. “I expect you have a lot to teach me, and it’ll take time. I
’m ready for it all.”
The viscount gestured at a doorway beyond.
It opened into a long hall, apparently some sort of gallery.
Sunny walked along the vast space, wincing internally as she passed numerous animal trophies mounted on the walls. All of them were big cats, lions, panthers and tigers. The sight made her blood boil. Trophy hunting turned her stomach, and the sight of these souvenirs made her want to bring the viscount down more than ever.
There were more trophies under her feet in the form of vast animal hides. Her emotions built, fuelled by the repulsion she felt. She clamped her eyes shut a moment, remembering in particular what Eben had said to her. Draw on your strengths. Store your emotions to use them as weapons. When she opened her eyes, she looked away from the tragic, beautiful creatures, but carried her response to them in her heart.
Further along, classical paintings hung on the walls, all of them apparently genuine. Scenes of heaven and hell at war filled her vision, paintings of angels being stabbed by demons. A life of indulgence, selfishness and cruelty was represented. Evidence of decadence, death and debauchery were everywhere.
The viscount beckoned her to follow, and she strolled after him into a dining room where a long mahogany table had been set for two.
