Page 25 of Soul Of A Villain

It was another fifteen minutes before the cabin came into view, and as the limo pulled around the circular driveway, Londyn’s gaze slid to meet his.

“Is this yours?”

“It is. Before you consider making a run for it, be aware that the woods surrounding the cabin are just as dense and thick as those surrounding Diamond Lake Ranch. My security team is far more diligent.”

“Who else lives here?” Londyn asked softly.

“No one. I come here when I want to shut out the world,” Oliver replied in a brusque tone.

Londyn’s gaze dropped to Oliver’s hands. “So, everything here belongs to you?”

He gave her a tight smile. “Yes. Now, that includes you.”

She said nothing more as Joey opened the door and extended a hand to help her exit. A possessive twinge assailed Oliver when Londyn accepted the limo driver’s assistance. Fuck. Even that innocent gesture was almost more than he could bear to witness.

After climbing out of the limo, Oliver brushed past Londyn and bounded up the stone-terraced steps of the cabin. Keying in the code that unlocked the front door, he motioned for her to follow him. He watched as she glanced at Joey, who was gathering the luggage from the limo’s trunk and knew exactly what she was thinking. She thought she could establish some kind of ally. Someone who could help her escape this predicament.

But she would find little sympathy or commiseration in Joey. The man wasn’t nearly as sadistic as Malcom, but his loyalty to the Winter family was unwavering. The same could not be said for Oliver’s former right-hand man. Malcolm had been like a wild animal and controlling him had been difficult. His death at Kingston’s hands was justified. If he was still alive and tried assaulting Londyn in the same manner he had attacked Ava Blue, Oliver knew he would have tortured the man for days and days and in much more creative ways than Kingston had devised.

“Londyn. I’m waiting.” Oliver snapped his fingers as if summoning a wayward pet, knowing it would piss her off.

Londyn’s eyes narrowed, but she straightened her shoulders and obediently trudged up the steps to enter the house. Joey followed behind her, setting the bags down in the spacious foyer.

“Want me to carry these up to your rooms, boss?” Joey asked respectfully.

“No. I’ll manage it from here.”

“Need me for anything else?” Joey asked with a small smile.

“Not for a few days, at least. Feel free to go into town if you like or stay at the coach house. I’ll let Miss Miller know when I need her services.”

“Thanks, boss.”

Joey closed the front door behind him, leaving Oliver and Londyn alone. She quickly retrieved her small duffle bag, clutching it to her midsection like a shield.

“Who is Miss Miller?” Her gaze darted around the luxurious foyer.

“My housekeeper. She stays at the coach house when I come here.”

“Oh.” Londyn blinked as Oliver untangled her bag from her grip. He cupped her elbow in his hard hand.

“Come with me. I’ll show you where you will sleep.”

He guided her down the hallway, past the enormous great room, with its wall of windows and expansive view overlooking the valley. A stunning staircase constructed of deer antlers led to the cabin’s upper floors. Oliver grabbed her hand, pulling her up the wide steps until they reached a landing and a corridor lined by multiple doors. The hallway curved around a bend.

“Down there, at the end of another hallway,” he gestured toward the furthest end of the corridor, which curved around the bend and continued out of sight, “are my rooms. This one will be yours.” Pushing open one door, he let her enter the spacious bedroom first. He dropped her bag into an overstuffed chair.

“I have my own room?”

Her surprise amused Oliver. He nodded, leaning against the doorjamb as she moved to the center of the airy space. It was tastefully decorated in natural shades of ivory and pale green. Mounded high with decorative pillows, a four-poster king-sized bed made of lodgepole pines provided an obvious focal point. An attached bath with granite countertops in shades of brown and cream and a matching, glassed-in shower was also well appointed with every amenity she might require.

“I won’t cage you, Londyn, unless necessary.” Oliver’s gaze drilled hers. “Will it be necessary?”

Her head moved in a short, jerky shake, her lips tight. Oliver stalked toward her, closing the distance she had placed between them.

“There is a cage in the playroom, and I thought of placing you in it. But if you are a good girl and cause no trouble, you may sleep in here.”

Her lips tightened even more with his words. “Playroom?”

---