Lured into Love (Blossom in Winter #2) - Melanie Martins Page 0,37

Ms. Hasenfratz?”

I swear, her question gives me goosebumps. No idea if it’s polo she’s talking about, but it doesn’t matter. There’s something about her that draws me in, something I can’t really put my finger on—maybe it’s her sternness, her formality, her impeccable posture and manners, I don’t know, but I’m keen to go down the rabbit hole to find out. Looking straight into her brown eyes and trying to discern the underlying meaning of her question, I offer, “I’d love to.”

And her smirk grows. “Great. I’m staying here until Monday.”

“My parents are out this weekend,” I tell her. “You could come to my place on Sunday.”

She reaches into a pocket inside her blazer, and after taking her iPhone out, she asks, “What’s your phone number?” And now my heart gives a little jump. She seems to be dead serious. But what should I expect? A polo lesson? Or something else? Well, there’s only one way to find out.

Taking her iPhone, I type in my number. “Here. Saved as Emma Hasenfratz.”

Chapter 8

Bedford Hills, September 11, 2020

Alexander Van Dieren

Three months. That’s the time left before we get married. Wow. It feels even more real now that there is a deadline. I knew this day would eventually come, but I never thought it’d come so soon. My thoughts instantly go to Tess and her threats. I wonder how she will react once she knows the wedding is taking place just an hour drive from her house. But my gaze remains on Petra, who is engrossed in conversation with Julia, and I can only hope her mother will restrain herself from interfering with the ceremony. I know how much Petra is looking forward to a perfect day. One she can remember with a smile on her face, not tears. But knowing Tess as I do, this is nothing more than wishful thinking. Then my attention goes to Mom, and as our eyes lock, she beckons to me, and I know it’s time for our tête-à-tête. After all, dinner has already been served and we are now finishing coffees and digestifs.

“I’ll be right back,” I whisper in Petra’s ear before standing up.

Mom does the same, and we quietly leave the table, the guests, and the outdoors in the direction of my office.

Opening the door, I invite her inside. “Make yourself at home.” And Mom does so, removing the shawl covering her shoulders and sitting comfortably on the sofa.

Closing the door behind me, I go to the bar and ask as I take the decanter, “Macallan Thirty, one ice sphere?”

“Where does your ice come from?”

Is that question a temperament check? Few questions could be as insulting to me as this one. And Mom knows this perfectly well. In fact, I don’t think anyone has ever dared to ask me that. She thinks I’m what? Fifteen? I’m tempted to scare the hell out of her and say it comes from the fridge, but instead I politely bring her the glass and say, “Wintersmiths. Anything else?”

She observes the crystal-clear ice sphere sitting in her glass, half covered by the single malt, and her lips curve up. “We can never be too prudent. Thank you.” Then, as I sit on the armchair beside her, I realize it’s the first time I’ve received her in my house. We’ve always met on the family estate in Dieren, but never in a house that is only mine. After taking a sip, she announces, “Tess attacked your sister on a TV interview.”

“Which one?” She cocks her head to the side, which means Julia. I then ask, “And how does that have anything to do with me?”

“Tess intends to become Minister of Justice if her party wins next year. And reform the entire judiciary system, most likely to get rid of your sister.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“It’s your sister’s life we are talking about, Alexander,” Mom chides. “Tess is attacking her because of your fiancée.”

“Tess never liked Julia,” I snap back. “This has nothing to do with Petra.”

“But Tess never attacked Julia on TV before. Her name has never been exposed in the media,” Mom interposes. “Look, Julia can handle a few remarks, but I don’t want my daughter to be her next target because of your relationship.”

“Tess won’t do shit, and you know that.”

“Unless you don’t move to Singapore.”

And there we are. The real reason Mom wanted to hold the engagement party so quickly and was so keen to come here. Furrowing my brow, I ask, “You are here to make sure