The car winds around a long road and a large two-storey mansion comes into view. The car rolls to a stop in front of an arched portico. Damien steps out of the car and holds his hand out to me. I take it and step out, shivering against the chilly wind. The front door opens and an old man with graying hair steps out.

“Your Grace? This is quite a surprise,” the man says in deference to Damien.

“Good afternoon, Jeeves,” Damien says and ushers me inside the house. “This is my guest Miss Singh. I hope some of the rooms are ready as usual because we have to wait out the storm.”

“Of course, Your Grace, Mrs. Perkins and I will make sure that you have everything at your disposal. If you could retire to the golden parlor, I’ll inform Mrs. Perkins to send some refreshments immediately.”

Damien turns and raises a hand to Mike who is waiting just behind us. “Jeeves, this is Mike. Please ensure that he is shown a room and is made comfortable as well.”

“Sir, I don’t need...” Mike starts to say but Damien cuts him off. “It’s a huge fucking house, Mike. There’s plenty of room for all of us. Besides, I assure you we’ll be safe here. So, relax and get some rest.”

A ghost of a smile skates across the huge man’s lips. But it’s gone before I can blink. “Thank you, sir. But I’d like to take a tour of the house and the grounds first.”

Damien sighs. “Fine, as you wish.”

Aaliya

“SO, THIS IS YOUR HOUSE?” I ask Damien after we are finally settled and alone in the golden parlor. It quite amuses me that a room is given a name, but this makes sense because the entire room is done in vivid shades of dark gold and brown. Right from the curtains to the upholstery, the tapestry, the wallpaper, even the cushions spread across the comfortable sofas, everything is in varying shades of gold. And the woodwork is all mahogany brown. It is warm and quite comfortable.

“This house is one of my favorites,” Damien says from beside me. He’s seated next to me on the couch. “I inherited this from my Aunt Sylvie after she passed. The land surrounding it borders the Loch Ness and there’s a stunning view from the upper floors. It’s quite peaceful here,” he says with a distant look in his eyes.

“One of your favorites?” I ask, cocking my head. “How many houses do you own?”

“Well, it usually takes two to have a favorite. But I have six including this.”

“Six!” I struggle not to choke. My voice sounds pretty calm and in no way reflects the shock running through me.