Wicked Truths (Hunt Legacy Duology #2) - Jodi Ellen Malpas Page 0,118

Becker. ‘He’s bound to find out.’

‘How?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe when he sells it.’

He rolls his eyes. I don’t know why. It’s a perfectly reasonable worry. ‘He’ll never sell anything that he knows I want. That’s his satisfaction. Mine is looking at that car in my garage every day knowing he thinks he has it.’ He winks cheekily, and I shake my head, done for the day. That’s self-satisfaction at its best.

‘Am I to assume that your granddad can’t know about this?’ I ask flatly. His look of worry gives me my answer, and I sigh heavily. ‘I can’t believe I’ve let you drag me into your corrupt world.’

His finger meets my lips. ‘You love my corrupt world.’ He gives my arse a solid squeeze. ‘I’ll show you just how corrupt I am in bed tonight.’ Replacing his finger with hard lips, he kisses me passionately, deeply, and meaningfully, swallowing me up until he eventually slows to a stop and nips my lip playfully. ‘Thirty-five million, eh?’

‘It makes me feel better about the three million on my finger.’

He laughs and kisses my head as he leads us back into the showing room and collects the painting with his spare hand. ‘How awful was she?’

‘Which one?’

‘Alexa.’ He spits out her name like a bad taste.

‘Very awful. She insists her aunt only wants to deal with you in future, not your skivvy.’

‘I bet she does. Anyway, let’s get back to your other accomplishment today.’ He looks down at my frowning face as I sprint through my day. Other accomplishment? ‘My mangled Audi.’ His lips straighten. ‘It was quite a welcome-home surprise when I pulled up in the factory.’

‘Ah.’ I raise a finger, my indication that I’m about to give him a perfectly reasonable explanation for trashing his car. ‘I knew you’d be bringing a new woman home, so I wanted to make space in your garage.’

He laughs loudly, making me feel so much better. ‘You’ll be punished.’

‘How?’ Why I’m asking is beyond me. We all know what my punishment will be.

‘You’ll wash Gloria in your underwear every Sunday for a year,’ he declares, smiling in approval. I’m surprised. No arse-slapping? ‘And I’ll spank your arse occasionally while I watch,’ he adds, glimpsing down at me.

‘You’re a dirty-minded arse.’

‘And soon to be your dirty-minded husband.’ He collects my left hand and kisses his grandmother’s ring, and for reasons beyond me, everything weighing my mind down lifts.

I settle into his side. ‘Do you really think your gramps will be okay?’

‘He’s a tough old boot.’ We enter the Grand Hall, and Becker props the painting up in the corner before reclaiming me and getting us on our way again. ‘Happens now and then.’

‘We were only chatting,’ I explain, letting Becker lead us into the kitchen. He releases me and heads to the fridge like a homing pigeon in search of his apples. ‘It was all very sudden. One minute we were talking and the next he was all white and shaky. And you should get him a new walking stick.’ I hate to think what would happen if the knob came off while he was using it. He could take a tumble.

Becker turns around from the fridge with an apple halfway to his mouth. ‘Why? He’s rather attached to that one.’

‘There’s a piece loose.’ I wander over to the kettle I abandoned earlier and take it to the stove. ‘I tried to fix it, but the stubborn old boot insisted it was okay.’ I notice Mrs Potts has left the oven on, so I quickly turn off the dial and then face Becker. I find him staring at the floor, quiet and still.

‘Becker?’

He snaps out of his trance and gives me round eyes. ‘Tell me what was said.’

I withdraw, shaking my head a little. ‘What about?’

‘His stick.’

‘His stick?’

He throws his apple aside and stalks over to me, taking the tops of my arms. ‘Yes, the stick. Tell me.’

I pull myself free, backing away, seriously disliking his disposition. ‘What’s gotten into you?’

He sighs, dragging in a calming breath. ‘I’m sorry. But, please, try to remember what was said.’ He comes close and pulls me in for a hug, stroking the back of my head comfortingly.

I close my eyes and rack my brain, quickly finding what I’m looking for, and what Becker really wants, though I’m totally perplexed as to why. ‘He knocked it over and was prepared to break a bone rather than let me pick it up for him.’

‘And there’s a piece loose?’

‘Yes. The gold knob