Take up hunting? What had I been thinking?
I opened my mouth to spill all of my thoughts to Smith when the traffic opened up and we plunged past the lane next to us, turning onto the street that led us home.
From the outside nothing looked wrong. It was the same stately townhome, the same cozy street, the same quiet, sleepy vibe, I’d expected to find. The windows were dark, though, and that was odd. After making the mutual decision not to hire staff in London, given they had a disturbing tendency to be spying on us in the past, Smith had installed an electronic surveillance system that allowed us to keep an eye on the house, turn lights off and on, even unlock doors remotely in case we needed to let someone in. Georgia was on the list of people who had access, given that she was much closer in case of emergency.
“I thought we had the lights set to go on in the evening?” I asked. It was a precaution meant to make the house look occupied to potential thieves.
“We do,” he said grimly. He maneuvered the car to an empty spot on the street in front of the house and parked. “Stay here.”
“Like hell,” I said. “Georgia said we should both see it.”
“If there’s someone in there,” he growled.
I shook my head, unimpressed by the alpha male on display and opened my door. “She would have told us that! I bet the stupid system isn’t working. You know she didn’t approve of it.”
“I trust a computer more than a man,” he said.
“There’s a man behind the computer,” I pointed out as he joined me outside the car. I held out my hand, and he took it, somewhat grudgingly. We climbed the steps to the house, Smith fumbling with the app on his phone. But when we reached the door, it was already cracked open.
“For fuck’s sake,” Smith bit out, his forehead furrowing.
“You didn’t do that?” I tried not to let my sudden nervousness slip through.
“No. You’re right. Georgia wanted to show us the bloody thing is broken. I’ll call out the company tomorrow.”
“But tonight?” I felt uneasy staying here now. What if the doors unlocked overnight and we woke to find someone in our house? Smith would protect us at any cost. I’d learned that lesson before. I didn’t want my husband to have more blood on his hands, though.
“Wait here,” Smith ordered. This time I didn’t argue as he opened the door and reached for the light switch as the overhead chandelier burst on followed by a loud chorus of “surprise.”
Thank God my husband didn’t carry a gun anymore. And if looks could kill, the one he was shooting our family and friends might have taken the lot. I released the breath I’d been holding and laughed, shaking his arm, as Georgia stepped from behind the group with a sly smile on her face.
“Sorry, Price. They made me do it,” she said.
He glared at her. “Remind me to take you off as a point of contact.”
Smith might not be pleased, but my heart swelled seeing all the people I loved in one place. My Aunt Jane was here, speaking to my brother John. It was a bit surprising to see him here, but I was glad what little family I had made the occasion. I spotted my mother, pouting in the back of the crowd. She had yet to accept that she was going to be a grandmother or that I’d given the family estate to her step-son. She saw both moves as betrayals. But it was the shining smile at the front of the small cluster that sent tears to my eyes.
Clara Bishop, my best friend, had been through hell this year, and here she was front and center, smiling to celebrate my new baby. The children were absent and she was holding a glass of champagne. I was instantly jealous. She looked gorgeous, flushed and happy, her curves on display in a fitted cashmere sweater the color of fresh cream and thick, black ponte leggings. Her silky brunette hair looked like she’d just stepped out of the salon and her make-up was minimal but perfectly applies. I bit back a grin thinking about the girl I’d known at university. Then, she’d worn jeans and t-shirts with no interest in fashion much to my dismay. When she’d met the Prince of England, she’d embarked on a style makeover worthy of a reality show. Now, she looked