Two Weeks Later
“Are you sure about this, sir?” Gregory asked, his usually calm voice agitated.
They stood together at the solarium’s window, watching Hannah walk their guest back to the house. She’d just finished showing him the other outbuildings on the property. It was the exact same tour Hannah had given Ivan when he arrived last spring, but Hannah didn’t seem nearly as warm and engaged with the man beside her as she had with him. Perhaps because he was yet another outsider—a large Greek this time, as opposed to a monstrous Russian—but an outsider nonetheless.
In the wide back meadow, a black helicopter—the third to set down in as many weeks—waited patiently for its only passenger to return.
“I’m not sure he’ll fit in here,” Gregory told Ivan now, the closest the old servant had ever come to directly questioning one of Ivan’s decisions.
Ivan cut his eyes at the man, getting the same feeling he had this morning when he’d heard Hannah talking to someone in his office.
“He just told us he’s selling the property,” he’d heard her say as he approached the study. “The buyer’s due here any minute… No, I didn’t know he was interested in selling. If I had, I would certainly have had him call you first, King Nightwolf…”
Ivan stopped in his tracks as soon as he heard her, careful not to make a sound as he listened in. But the old woman abruptly ended the call. “He’s coming, I have to go,” she said quickly.
By the time he reached the door, she was back to cleaning his office. The rotary phone now sitting in a new position on his desk, the only sign she’d made a call at all.
And now here was Gregory, questioning his decision to sell Wolfson Manor to another outsider.
“I do not fit in here, either,” Ivan pointed out. Perhaps Gregory had forgotten how little welcome this strange mountain town had given him so far. “Also, according to his portfolio, he has several such properties around the world, many located in small mountain towns just like this one. I think he is a collector of sorts, and he quickly agreed to my term to keep you two on as caretakers for the property. Do not worry, Gregory. I doubt you will see him all that often, and there will be no need for him to—as you say… fit in.”
However, his words didn’t seem to bring Gregory any solace. “I know you’re probably doing this because you’re still upset about that wolf attack, and I’m sorry about that. You’ll never know how sorry I am…”
Ivan shrugged. “It is not your fault.”
“I—that wolf could have hurt Miss Sola or you or done worse. I should have done more to make sure she understood the dangers of going out on full moon nights. But that’s no reason to sell the kingdom house. Especially to this fellow. He smells…wrong. Hannah thinks so, too.”
Ivan squinted at the thin man, wondering how he could possibly know that, given he and Hannah hadn’t had a chance to exchange words since the buyer’s arrival. At least not that Ivan had seen.
But this wasn’t the first time the couple seemed to know what the other was thinking. Yet another strange thing about Wolfson Point. That, and the townspeople’s weird turns of phrase when it came to this manor house and its prior occupant. Also, the strange full moon curfew, accompanied as it was by the sudden soundtrack of howling wolves. He continued to be mystified by the town he’d chosen to hide out in.
But not for much longer.
“It’s already done,” Ivan told Gregory. “The papers have been signed. This inspection is just a formality.”
Gregory gave in with a tired sigh. “Yes, I thought as much when you took Sola away. I suppose you’ll be joining her in California now?”
“Nyet,” Ivan answered, not giving the question even a moment of indulgent thought.
Gregory seemed to be gearing up for another question, but before he could get it out, the buyer entered the solarium with Hannah.
Hannah’s face remained neutral, but the fact that her usual warm smile was nowhere in sight spoke volumes about her discomfort with this man, much more than any outward signs of nervousness would have.
Ivan could understand both her and Gregory’s unease. He didn’t meet very many men larger than he was, but Damianos Drákon—with his mane of thick, black hair—was such a man. He was even bigger than his cousin Boris, with rippling muscles that barely seemed contained by his very expensive dark suit.
Yet, despite his excess of muscle, Damianos was the very picture of refined elegance. He looked fairly young—no more than a decade older than Ivan, if that. Yet he carried himself with even more confidence than any of the gentlemen Ivan had met from some of Russia’s oldest and most exclusive families. In fact, he seemed to reek of a sort of old-world civility, which made Ivan question how he’d come into his money.
For this buyer was someone you didn’t very often find these days: a discreet billionaire. One Ivan had never heard of before he’d approached Alexei, asking if his younger cousin might be amenable to selling his Idaho property.
“Was everything to your liking?” Ivan asked the mysterious buyer.
“Of course,” he answered with a polite bow of his head. “Hannah was very gracious to show me the property. I must take my leave now, but I am well-pleased with this acquisition, and I am most grateful to each of you for taking the time to meet with me.”
Ivan held out his hand for the final shake. “You’re welcome, Mr. Drákon. Please take care of Hannah and Gregory. They have been good to me, and I hope you will be good to them.”
“Of course,” the buyer answered, taking Ivan’s hand in a firm clasp that reminded him of old movies featuring toga-clad Roman Emperors.
Damianos had a Greek accent, but one tinged with an archaic formality unlike anything Ivan had encountered before. And as they shook, he once more had the unsettling feeling that despite this man’s outwardly youthful appearance, he was dealing with someone quite old.
“And now that we have completed our business together, you must call me Anos, as all my friends do.”
“Anos,” Ivan repeated. “I have enjoyed doing business with you.”
Ivan carefully ignored the stricken looks on Hannah and Gregory’s faces. Their lives would be easier without having to serve a grumpy Russian, and he could not risk Sola seeking him out here.
The memory of her holding that broken man’s hand continued to haunt him, even though they had now officially been apart longer than they’d been together.
You are not the man she deserves, he reminded himself, just as he’d been reminding himself every day since they parted. He wouldn’t be another broken thing for her to take care of.
Ivan had plans. Plans that could not include her, no matter how much his heart ached for the woman who’d turned his world upside down and taught him to finally start looking beyond himself.
As soon as the Greek’s helicopter departed, Ivan picked up the rotary phone to arrange for a helicopter of his own. It was time. Finally time to move on.