Toxic - Zoe Blake Page 0,51

anger and possibly a punishment.

It wasn’t just the possibility of incurring his anger. It was obvious he was mostly angry at himself for this perceived idea that he had somehow let me down. Richard at his core was a very old-fashioned man who deeply believed it was the man’s job to provide and protect. The fact someone had gotten past his security on multiple occasions cut him to the quick. It was in the way he shifted from already being an overprotective, uber-alpha male to basically a caveman.

I once teased that if he could, he’d drag me off to some dungeon in some old family-owned castle and chain me to the wall for safekeeping. The light that came into his eyes chilled me to the bone. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that that precise scenario had occurred to him.

After that, I kept quiet on the matter and behaved like a good girl, never even trying to leave the property. It wasn’t that much of a sacrifice. The press had somehow gotten ahold of the story and printed all the gory details along with a photo of me flipping them all the bird.

Richard was beyond furious.

Even though he knew it was pointless, he sent an army of staff out into London to purchase every copy in the stands. Later, the paper that printed the story suffered a cyber-attack that crashed its website and wiped out all its servers. Every article, every document, all employee files… gone. They went out of business the next day.

They should have known better than to upset Richard.

Richard was already gone when I awoke. Next to my pillow he had left a note on his usual heavy card stock. It instructed me to wear my new Chanel suit and to be ready by one o’clock.

The very moment the grandfather clock in the entranceway chimed one o’clock, Richard strolled through the door.

I could see why he wanted me to wear my new Chanel suit. With its cream silk georgette top and ecru tweed overlaying dress jacket, it paired perfectly with his dark grey windowpane check flannel suit.

Richard grasped my hand and lifted it to his lips. He smiled when he saw my engagement ring. With the fifteen-carat central sapphire and six pear-shaped diamonds, each about seven carats, it was a very heavy, imposing ring. Richard had already ordered a more subdued version from Mouawad for me to wear every day. Although I suspected his version of subdued differed greatly from the average person’s idea.

“You look beautiful. Are you ready for our outing?”

“Yes!” I said, bouncing a bit on my toes.

It bored me to tears staying in the house day after day. Richard had tried to keep me entertained by bringing in all the best chefs around London to cook special meals for us, but it wasn’t the same as getting dressed up and dining out on the town. And of course, he also kept me entertained with some pretty creative games in the bedroom, but that was just the nights. It was the days when he had to work and left my side that dragged on. I missed him.

His presence.

His dominating energy.

I missed the flutter I got whenever he looked up at me with those piercing blue eyes that matched the sapphire in my ring.

Damn, I had it bad for this man.

Sometimes he scared me to death with his intensity and the scope of his games, but other times I couldn’t imagine a life without him.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Of course. Richard loved his surprises. I wished I could say the same.

We took the armored car flanked by at least four security vehicles. Richard was taking no chances as the cars navigated traffic around London. Eventually we pulled up to a very familiar sight, Westminster Abbey.

Reaching for his hand as I alighted from the car, I asked, “Are you playing tour guide today?”

“You’ll see,” came his enigmatic response.

Walking past a sign that read ‘closed for a private event,’ Richard swung open one of the massive wooden double doors and we entered the cool, dark interior.

It was hard not to be awestruck by the imposing Gothic cathedral. The stunning vaulted ceiling and all the glorious gold and marble that seemed to gleam even in the shadowed space.

Standing by the Grave of the Unknown Warrior, which was surrounded by bright red poppies, was a gentleman dressed in a brown tweed suit. He looked small. It suddenly occurred to me that all men looked small compared to Richard.