‘Oh . . .’ Becker has something Brent wants. An endorsement to Countryscape. So that’s why he’s sniffing around, and I bet Becker has loved every moment of flatly refusing his request. I had wondered why a multimillion-dollar hotel mogul had the time to visit The Haven so often of late. ‘And you won’t endorse him?’ I ask. It’s a stupid question.
‘No.’
‘Because you want it and if he’s there, he might get it.’ That’s the crux of it.
‘Precisely.’ Becker smirks, and I roll my eyes. ‘And—’
‘Yeah, yeah, I know.’ I return forward and centre my attention on the road. ‘You’d rather burn it than let him get his hands on it.’
He nods his head in acknowledgement. ‘Problem is, someone else endorsed him.’
‘No.’ I shoot Becker a disbelieving look, knowing what this means. A bidding war. ‘You can’t let him win.’ I don’t know what’s come over me, but I really don’t want Brent to get the long-lost treasure. I’ve seen The Haven and everything it represents to the antiques and art world. Head of a Faun deserves to be within its walls.
‘I knew I liked you for a reason.’
I flash him a surprised look. Did he just say that? ‘Pardon?’
He begins to shuffle in his seat, flustered, refusing to look at me. ‘Didn’t say a word.’
‘Yes, you did.’ I take off my sunglasses and start to chew one of the arms as I study him. ‘In fact, you said eight words. Would you like me to remind you what they were?’
He brings his forefinger to his lips and holds it there lightly. The move spikes a memory of last night, and I fidget unnecessarily. I know what’s coming. ‘Shhhh,’ he whispers. The simple whoosh of noise sounds erotic, adding to my fluster, and immediately has me crossing my legs subtly. Becker Hunt doesn’t miss a trick, and he didn’t miss that. He turns a cocky grin on to me. ‘Okay there?’
‘Super.’ I delve into my bag for something to do, other than look as desperate as I am. ‘How long until we arrive?’ I pull my lipstick out and the sun visor down.
‘We’re here.’ He gestures towards acres of empty fields.
‘Wow,’ I blurt out, seeing a magnificent country estate set on a hill in the distance.
He takes his phone from his inside pocket and taps a few buttons before putting it back. Then he flicks the stereo on, and Coldplay’s ‘Clocks’ kicks in before he puts his foot down and we zoom down the country road. I grab my scarf and hold it to my head, laughing.
‘Welcome to Countryscape, princess,’ Becker shouts over the wind and music, turning a disarming smile my way. ‘Let’s buy ourselves some lost treasure.’
Chapter 20
Classic cars. Everywhere. It’s the first thing I notice when we drive up the gravel driveway. I could have been transported back in time. The impressive building, constructed with a deep orange stone, rises from the ground proudly, the brickwork intricate around the stained-glass windows. It’s majestic, the stone cherubs edging the roofline only adding to the magnificence. There are dozens of them, one different from the next, all facing the driveway, welcoming visitors.
From a distance, sitting high on a hilltop, this place looked breathtaking. Close up, it’s beyond spectacular. But there’s a strange sense of foreboding lingering around the ancient brickwork. It’s welcoming but intimidating. I’m in awe but feel vulnerable. I can’t figure out whether I like it or not.
Becker slows down to a crawl, stretching out our approach to the house. It gives me more time to absorb my surroundings, to try and decide if I’m comfortable or not. It’s time I don’t need. I feel edgy. I feel like we’re creeping up slowly so as not to disturb the angels keeping guard. ‘Why so slow?’ I ask, a little irritably.
‘The gravel. Too fast and it’ll kick up and chip Gloria.’ He rumbles to a stop, pulling up behind a Bentley. I’m not sure if he’s scowling at my question or at the car. ‘Piece of shit.’ He may as well be growling.
I look at the Bentley, thinking it looks far from a piece of shit, but I know he isn’t referring to the prestigious car. Does this mean that Brent’s here already?
Becker cuts the engine and swaps his shades for his Ray-Bans. ‘I want to set some ground rules before we go in.’
‘I won’t talk to him,’ I murmur, letting myself out of Gloria. I wouldn’t want to, anyway. I straighten and turn to close the door,