Page 98 of The Enforcer

“Why not spend time on the patio instead?” He wasn’t just suggesting. He was requiring that I return to the house.

“Okay. Would you like something to drink? You can come inside or I’ll bring it to you.”

He seemed surprised. “I’m fine.” He was certainly very cautious around me.

“Okay then. I’ll go back inside.” But I didn’t do so right away. Not without scanning the perimeter. I noticed four guards, two walking and two standing near a clump of trees talking. I shifted my gaze to the side, noticing there was a path leading from the back of the property. It didn’t appear used very often since most was covered by a bank of trees and colorful flowers.

I made a mental note before returning inside.

After closing the door, I thought about what I should do. Neither choice brought any sense of peace. Either stay and wait until his return, try to see what I could do to help him, convincing the man I was trustworthy, or leave. Then what? Yes, I had cash and my identification including a credit card and I’d even shoved my passport into my back pocket. Christos hadn’t thought to take that away from me.

Did I really think I’d make it to the airport and on a flight before he tracked me down?

Unrest remained in my system from not knowing what to do. My personality wasn’t like this. It had never been. I wandered through the house, ending up in his office. Why was it that all powerful men had larger offices than their bedrooms in their homes? I laughed softly as I walked in, admiring the room as I did every other one in the house.

His furniture was massive and dark, suiting such a powerful man. With an entire wall of bookshelves and a hutch doubling as a small bar, the area held an aura of sophistication. But the rug on the polished maple wooden floor was playful in dazzling colors of reds, blues, and greens. I could only imagine how expensive the piece had been. Even the group of three leather chairs in a circle, a round glass coffee table located in the center seemed perfect for the setting.

It was the art on the walls that held my attention.

Colorful and bold in design, the artwork appeared three dimensional, holding my rapt gaze for longer than they should. They were evocative, almost erotic in nature yet subtle. I moved closer, glancing from one piece to the other before making my way to the bookshelves. They went all the way up to the ceiling, which was taller, at least at eight feet, maybe more. As I’d seen in libraries, there was a ladder allowing for ease of selection on the top two shelves.

His tastes were as eclectic as the man. Titles ranged fromMoby Dickto George Orwell’s1984.There were some thrillers from authors Tom Clancy and Clive Cussler as well. And he even had an ancient-looking set of encyclopedias. Why did that surprise me so much?

I continued sipping my wine, noticing one shelf was dedicated to nothing but photographs, above it several old photo albums. The pictures were of family gatherings. One caught my eye. It was of four younger men who looked very much alike. They all had different color eyes, but the same quirky smile and thick, luxurious sweeps of hair.

They appeared happy, all smiling and their arms locked around each other. It was obvious the photograph had been taken in Corfu. I couldn’t imagine the pain they’d felt in losing Leandro.

The other photographs were similar, including one picture from at least two decades before, both their father and mother appearing much younger. And if I wasn’t mistaken, the young girl in the photo was Willow.

Their family had been close, much more so than I’d experienced. My father had kept secrets because he’d been forced to by his job. We’d taken vacations, but there’d always been tension. I’d finally discovered what having a huge, loving family was like.

Sadness swept through my system and I was forced to admit to myself this just wasn’t my life and it never could be. The back and forth had to stop. I couldn’t allow my feelings for him to interfere with making a rational decision. I placed the frame exactly where I’d found it, resisting the urge to pull down the books.

I couldn’t get any closer to him. If I did, I would lose my life back in New York. What if he had no plans on allowing me to leave? The thought wasn’t that strange. He’d made comments that I belonged to him more than once. His possessiveness had been tantalizing at first, but I wasn’t the kind of women to be trapped or kept.

The thought sounded ridiculous when thinking it in my mind, but as he’d told me, he didn’t like to lose. I took another sip of wine and suddenly, the taste was bitter.

What if I went back to New York and confronted my father? Would that help the situation? Or would I learn something that I really didn’t want or need to know? I did want to help Christos and his family discover the truth and I could be the sole person capable of doing so.

But that meant getting back to New York. What I was thinking was risky to a point, but there would be no other opportunity. I was certain of that.

I turned and glanced at the door then down to my watch. He’d been gone for almost an hour and a half. If I wanted to leave and make it somewhere safe before dark, it was now or never. My mind drifted to the times we’d shared, but I managed to shove the emotions aside. He simply wanted a possession to fondle and fuck when he was in the mood.

No, it was best I leave before I changed my mind again. I placed the wine on his desk, scurrying out of his room and flying up the stairs. All I needed were a few pieces of clothing and I could put several items into the carryon bag.

After grabbing my makeup and toiletries, I shoved a couple of shirts and some lingerie into the bag, adding a skirt that was all purpose just in case. The tennis shoes would need to do. What I’d purchased for the wedding wouldn’t fit. What the hell. They were just clothes.

I shoved my passport into the side pocket and rushed back down the stairs heading to the back. I’d have one chance of getting away and I needed to hurry.

After scanning the perimeter and seeing no one, I kept close to the house as I moved to the side where I’d seen the path. It was there, the stones parallel to the driveway. I made my way along the pathway, keeping an eye out for any guards. I didn’t see anyone as I walked, but I did hear voices, two men speaking in their native Greek.

I stopped once, peeking out from the trees. No one was paying any attention and I’d managed to remain silent. Only a minute later, I was able to see the tall stone pillars flanking the two sides of the driveway. There was also a massive iron gate, but I’d noticed an area of the wall that I might be able to climb over if necessary.

By the time I reached the end of the driveway, I was a nervous wreck. With no phone, I’d need to ask if I could use someone else’s in a store. Maybe they’d allow me. Or maybe I’d catch a cab and head directly to the airport. I’d sleep there if necessary.

“Shit.” The gate I’d noticed was locked and there was no chance of picking it. I’d be forced to climb the wall. Of course it was much taller than I’d remembered. I studied it, feeling the areas of stone in hopes I could find one not perfectly symmetrical to the others.

It took a few minutes of precious time, but I managed to get lucky. I closed my eyes briefly, praying I was doing the right thing before stepping onto the stone. The climb was a little more precarious than I’d imagined and I was forced to toss the bag over the wall before making my way to the top.

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