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Inside it was simple but pretty, all whites and blues, which reminded me of the beach. Though it was lightly furnished, there weren’t any pictures that would reveal who owned the place. In silence, we walked around the house. There were two bedrooms and two bathrooms. The master had a large window overlooking the sea, which was breathtaking. Together, we stood for a moment at the window. Rush was distracted by the thoughts in his head while I wrapped my arms around his waist and leaned against his arm, lost in blissful happiness.
We both turned as a cough sounded behind us.
“That was quick,” I said.
“The paperwork was still in the office. It hadn't gone off for storage yet. Made it easy.” Mr. Wilson shifted from foot to foot.
“What can you tell us?” Rush caught my hand, and despite the moment, I loved how he used the wordusto describe us.
“The house is yours as far as I can tell. It was bought for you, your company, by an intermediary. That’s your signature on the paperwork, yes?”
Rush frowned as surprise filled his face. “Yes.”
“The money came via an offshore account.”
Rush pulled the folded paper I’d found in the brochure out of his jacket pocket. “This is my bank account here. But I don’t know who this person is?” He pointed to the unknown name.
Mr. Wilson took the paper and studied it. “This here is an offshore account. He pointed to the bank details on the paper. It looks like you paid the bank, who then purchased it on your behalf.” He spoke with confidence, but I could see he was as confused as we were.
Rush shook his head, glanced around at the view beyond the window, and then smiled. “So, the house is mine then?” He double-checked.
“Yep, down to the last tile on the roof.”
Rush’s smile was grim. “Good. Looks like we are staying here for the rest of our trip.”
After we thanked Mr. Wilson and he left, I rubbed Rush’s shoulders as he sat on a wicker chair on the back deck. We still needed to go and get our stuff from the hotel, but his mood was melancholy.
“You gonna be alright?” I asked, knowing that probably sounded stupid.
“I can’t believe Clint would do this. How many other things has he managed to make me sign? That offshore account must be filled with money from the invoices he cooked up and who knows what else.”
I moved around him and climbed on his lap, my hands resting on his shoulders. “When we get back, we can sort this out, I promise you.” I touched his face, distracted by the roughness on his chin. I guessed he hadn’t shaved. “I’m sorry you’ve been hurt.”
His hands settled on my hips. “I need to go and get our belongings. You want to come.”
I scrunched my face. “I’m exhausted. Mind if I take a nap while you get them? Maybe I’ll try and work out how the kitchen appliances work, and I can cook something tonight.” I wasn’t any kind of a great cook, but I could handle the basics.
Rush’s face scrunched with worry. “Lux, what’s going—”
“You could grab some fish and salad from that little market we passed, and I’ll cook it up,” I said, interrupting.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You are paler than normal.” He hugged me to him.
“I'm fine,” I lied. “Just feeling extra tired. Who knew riding a bike and fucking my boss could be so exhausting,” I said, hoping that sounded light.
“Lux!” He laughed and kissed me breathless. “Although, one of those you can keep in mind for later.”
Holding me tight, he stood and gently placed me on the ground. “I’ll be back in half an hour.”
“I’ll be waiting,” I said, walking him to the door.
After he’d left, I went back into the house. I kind of liked it. Shame it was purchased from stolen money. My heart hurt for Rush, but some good could come from the horrible situation. In the future, the house might be a nice place for us to spend time together.
As naughty and spicy thoughts filled my head, I went up to the bedroom and laid down. I’d rest my eyes for ten minutes and then get the kitchen in order.
THIRTY-ONE
Burning Up
