Page 31 of Weeping Roses

She raises her eyes and stares at me with excitement and I’m lost for words. I want her so badly. It’s all I can think of, and yet she is more interested in some rusty old key.

Polly wears her emotions in plain sight and for a man who guards his well, it’s fascinating to watch.

There’s a rapid beating in my heart that is unfamiliar as I stare into her sparkling eyes and as she pulls back and turns her attention to the photographs, I am left reeling inside.

I’m not certain when my fascination grew into an obsession for this woman. It has crept upon me like a freezing fog on a summer’s morning. What began as a project has turned into something else entirely and I’m confused. The key burns in my hand as I close my fingers around it and say shortly, “I’ll see what I can find out. Leave it with me.”

She nods, her attention already diverted to staring at more photographs, and my heart thumps as I resist the urge to reach out and drag her lips to mine. Why do I want her so much? I’ve fucked her already—twice. That is usually enough, but this time it’s not. I want to do it again, several times over because I have not exhausted the ways I want to make her scream my name.

I am confused and conflicted and just thank God she has extended our stay together, although I doubt it’s because she wants my company. She’s just naturally curious, which I love about her, and has a desire to help me solve the mystery.

The key burns in the palm of my hand and gives me an excuse to leave and so I shut down any fascination I hold for this woman and stand, saying abruptly, “Lunch will be ready in one hour.”

“Um, okay.”

She doesn’t even look up and a soft smile graces her lips as she stares at another photograph of her mom as a child and for the briefest moment, I wish she would look at me with even half of the love she is directing toward her mom.

CHAPTER 17

POLLY

This was definitely one of Valentin’s brighter ideas and I swear I have never tasted food like it.

Everyone seems happier now that Simon is in charge of the kitchen, and the fine wine he has served has made me sleepy and content. I’m surprised to find I’m enjoying myself. I love Thorn House and I strangely love the company. Valentin’s men don’t seem half as scary anymore, and I’m at ease with them. They are more relaxed, and the conversation is full of jokes and stories that make me giggle and as I steal shy glances at their boss, my heart beats a little quicker when I remember the pleasure he can bring to my body.

Despite our hard beginning, we are falling into an easy friendship. I love how protective he is and in tune with my emotions. If anything, I am happy to offer to help because it prolongs their stay and for a woman who lost her family years ago; they are a surprising replacement.

After lunch, I decide to stretch my legs and explore the grounds. It’s a better day today, and the sun has even made an appearance and I can already tell the grounds stretch way into the distance.

I offer to help Simon with the clearing up and Valentin interrupts and instructs two of his men to help him instead and then surprises me by saying with a soft smile, “I’ll walk with you, Polly. There may be something we’ve missed.”

“Okay.”

I’m not sure why that makes me so happy, but as we wander to the back door, I notice a set of boots that appear to be my size.

As I pull them on, I note Valentin’s smart shiny boots and say with concern, “Perhaps we should see if there are any wellies for you.”

“Wellies?” He raises his eyes and I giggle.

“Wellington boots. Rubber ones if you like. The grass may be muddy and wet and I would hate to ruin those boots because they look expensive.”

He shrugs. “Then I’ll get a new pair.”

I’m surprised when he reaches for my hand and says with a tender smile, “Take a walk with me, Polly.”

My heart races as my hand sits inside his and we head outside into the sunshine, a faint chill in the air reminding me that summer is still a long way off.

As we head down the flagstone path, I remark on the early flowers pushing through the soil and the song of a nearby bird makes me smile.

“I love it here. I am so lucky.” I say with excitement, and his hand tightens around mine.

“You say you want to live here but must sell the house in Kensington to pay for it. I don’t understand.”

“Well–” I sigh deeply. “Houses like this aren’t cheap to run. Council tax for one must be astronomical and then there are the heating and electricity bills. I would have to employ a gardener and I suppose I could convert the coach house and staff annexe into holiday lets, that may bring in some money but the thought of other people sharing this with me is a step I’m not ready for just yet.”

He shrugs. “But the London house may be better. You haven’t even visited it yet.”

“I doubt it.” I shake my head, gazing around at the luscious landscape and hear nothing but birdsong in the air.

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