Mr. Mitchell Billionaires' Club Book 2 - Raylin Marks Page 0,15
those hills chasing those sheep? I laughed at the vision of that.
“Something funny?” Jim asked.
I looked over at him. “Just imagining my three-year-old running down those sheep.”
“You miss her?”
“Hell yes.” I smiled. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and hit the lotto so I can bring her here, and we’ll live with the sheep.”
“Why would you care to live among the sheep if you have money to live in one of these adorable cottages?”
“You’re too literal.” I smiled, but then covered my mouth when the driver turned onto a long driveway, and we were traveling back in time to a massive estate. “Jesus Christ, is that the house from Downton Abbey?” I asked as I took in the sprawling estate…home…castle? Whatever the hell this place was, it sat imposingly on groomed lawns with a fountain as the centerpiece while a river wound down to the left of the area. This was in a world of its own.
“No, it’s not Downton Abbey.” He laughed. “That was filmed at another location. I’ve turned down quite a few offers because I prefer the privacy of the place and don’t want it to have any publicity. You wouldn’t believe it, but all of those gray stones that make up the house were nearly in ruins when I determined I wanted to keep this place and bring it back to life when I inherited it.”
“Jesus Christ,” I said as we stopped, and the staff walked out to meet us. “Sorry, change of subject, but are you serious? Is this place real? Are those butlers?”
He smiled and opened his door. “They’re the ones who keep this place alive. Why they feel the need to walk out to greet me, I don’t know. I don’t request it, but they do it every single time. It is quite an honor, though.”
“God dang, Jim, you’re like a king in some castle out here.”
“As I said, time appears to stand still when I come to visit the countryside. I do hope you enjoy a little history as I worked to keep this home as close to that as I could.”
I stepped out of the car and suddenly felt like there was no way I belonged here. Or with him or anywhere near something this endearing.
“You hungry?”
Mind-switch. “Starved,” I said. “Is food awaiting us, kind sir?”
“More food than what was presented on the menu.”
“I could easily move in here. In fact, maybe I will let you kidnap me.”
He chuckled. “Well, my phone is off, and my friend, Alex, is taking all of my business until further notice. So, I believe I can plan it thoroughly now.”
“Funny,” I said, walking up stone steps, watching the gentlemen take our luggage out of the trunk for us in disbelief. “Does everyone always do shit like that for you?”
He smirked as we walked into the house. “It’s no worse than having a bellhop handle my belongings at a hotel, is it?”
“Guess not,” I answered, fully engrossed in the era I felt I was thrown into by this place. “Oh my God. This place is like a museum.”
“I’m happy you approve. Perhaps it will add to the sites of London I stole you away from?”
“That and then some. Never thought I’d be sleeping in one of these grand, historical places.” I followed him up the carpeted steps, looking at portraits from another time that lined the walls as we climbed up. “Did the house come with this? Do you really own this place?”
“It was my grandfather’s estate at one time, and mainly just a pile of old stones and a home that was deteriorating. My grandfather had intentions to renovate it once, but he never had the funding, I imagine. After he passed, I found the blueprints and questioned my father about our family having a place in England.” We turned and walked up another story to this home. “My dad brought my brother and me out here after my mom left.” He stopped and smiled at a portrait of hunters on horseback with dogs running alongside the horses. “I guess I fell in love with the potential. I told my dad that if he didn’t renovate it as my grandfather had tried, I would.”
“And so, you most definitely did.”
“I believe I would have lost interest if it weren’t for my dad saying it was a mere fantasy to take on something this monumental. I spent my vacations from school out here, helping with the carpentry myself.”