Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
He settles back in the seat. The cool wind whistles through his dark hair.
“Vic, we just had the biggest communication issue in our relationship. Please, how are you the Duke of Arlington?” I ask. A tugging pulls at my heart, and it lurches down into the pit of my abdomen.
“I’ve no communication issues. If there’s uncertainty on my part, I speak. However, my inquisitive Little—”
“Stop gaslighting me, Victor! I’m not feeling the Little nicknames right now.”
“Little One, I will answer your questions at my liberty. If I choose not to, you will know. As far as obtaining this dukedom, it’s a gift from the Queen.”
“I demand an apology, Vic, or I’m hitchhiking to the nearest airport. I’ve got thumbs, and it appears that you have a wholesome little duchy.”
“Lux . . .”
With my eyes on his, my hand clutches the door handle.
“I,” he sighs, “apologize for the confusion.”
I chuckle. “Damn, I felt the sincerity, the pain. That hurt more than bullets flying at your ass, didn’t it?”
The convertible jets back onto the two-lane road. The conversation has finished. We begin to climb a lush, green hill. After a little while, Victor reaches over. His callused fingers begin to twine with mine. Each caress makes my heart beat again. He again apologizes for the misunderstanding. God, how I want to believe this man.
27
Victor
The rest of the ride to my Arlington home is uneventful. Outwardly, I have brought Luxury around to my way of thinking. Inwardly, I dread my reaction to stepping onto the property with a woman other than Emeli.
As I pull into the lot, I train my eyes on the gorgeous, captivating young lady, not sparing a single glance to the imposing home. As I assist Luxury from the car, I take her tiny hand in my palm. Her eyes glide across the large fortress.
“This place’s simply beautiful.”
“I had a bit of say in the architecture,” I reply.
“Oh, wow! That’s amazing!” Luxury continues her exultations, but she is only a muted noise, as the past claims me.
* * *
After the tragedy, I refused to return home to my Arlington mansion. I was twenty-seven by that time, and it would be almost six months before I’d take in the vast lands of my Arlington estate again. I stopped right at the threshold. Emeli’s laughter seemed to travel out through the foyer and reach toward me as I placed my hands in my jean pockets.
Burt stood beside me at the front door.
“Victor, we could always gift this place to Arlington University. Allow them to convert it into a dormitory or satellite educational location?” Burt tried once again. He'd already claimed that selling the home was for the best.
Yes, I could sell the home for two pence, or I could place it in the hands of our alma mater.
“Neither. The caretaker has done well,” I stated from my position still on the expansive portico.
Inside, white linens draped over furniture. The wood flooring and intricate molding on the walls had been cared for. As I had no intention of ever entering the home again, I was sure Emeli’s furniture was well cared for. I considered the rigorous process of removing all those linens and polishing or dusting her fine things. I’d never done those things in my life, but it didn’t matter. Only death would bring me closer to my dearly departed.
* * *
“Are we going inside?” Luxury cocks her head to the side. For a moment, I gather my bearings, wondering what she means.
“Of course,” I respond.
“This is a very huge home,” she tries.
Instead of responding, yet again, I reach over and lift Luxury off her feet. “My beautiful Little One. We've had a long ride and a bit of a dispute. Allow me.”
As I nuzzle Luxury’s neck with kisses, she squirms around in my arms. The sound of Emeli’s laughter begins to fade away.
“Vic! Victor, if you don't stop tickling me!” Luxury threatens as I take my first ever steps back into a home I haven't lived in, in almost a decade.
To my surprise, all the furniture is polished, scented faintly of lemon. Bloody hurts like a knife to the gut. This house has always been a home.
A home without us.
When I set Luxury down on her own two feet, Burt descends the stairs. He must have taken the helicopter from Somerhaven.
I declined, taking the scenic route, prolonging the inevitable. With each visit to Arlington, I may take a trip near this estate, but I never enter. My eyes are taking it all in for the first time in almost ten years. The hotel I often frequent when in town for business is as far as I usually go. Burt and I exchange a simple glance.
The last time I stepped foot into my Arlington manor, I asked Burt to find me something deadly to do with my time.