Page 16 of Scarred Ruin

Again.

Hudson waited patiently as I weighed the odds that this was a horrible trap of some kind. Why should it be? Everyone knew who Maxsim was and that he was involved with the project. I had nothing to fear. Yet as I pulled the suit jacket I’d casually tossed on the back of a kitchen chair into my hand, I was reminded why terror was perfectly acceptable.

I’d almost lost my life by helping a man who purposely ran into danger. Maybe I should say the same thing about myself. I pulled the jacket to my nose, instantly driven into a painful vision of the incident.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, catching the lingering trace of his cologne mixed with the sharp, electric stench of copper. I’d had the jacket cleaned, yet the haunting odor of blood remained. At least to my sensitive nose.

At least I would have the opportunity to return it.

I followed Hudson down the stairs outside where a large black SUV was waiting.

“Couldn’t you be less stereotypical?” I asked as he opened the back passenger door for me.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing.” Nerves gathered in my stomach as I slid in, immediately wincing when he closed the door.

There was nothing inside the well-kept vehicle to make me believe anything but this was a ride to a destination. The interior was plush as I’d expected with butter-soft seats and the scent of vanilla and citrus as if from an air freshener. There were also no dead bodies tossed in the back.

The thought amusing, I finally sat back when he pulled away from the curb. Every few seconds he glanced into the rearview mirror, but not for long and certainly with no expression in his eyes.

He’d been instructed to ensure my ride was smooth.

“Where are we going?” I asked after he’d made a couple of turns.

“To have lunch with Mr. Aristov.”

“Yes, I know, but where? He didn’t share the restaurant.”

“You’ll need to ask him when you arrive.”

It took a few seconds for his comment to register and when it did, the words didn’t make any sense. Did he not know where he was taking me?

I let it go, instinctively knowing he wouldn’t divulge the information if he knew. As I stared out the window, I expected to see him heading deeper into Charleston’s historic downtown where there was an array of restaurants to choose from.

Instead, he headed away from the historic area. Only minutes later I realized where he was taking me. A sign confirmed it. Sullivan’s Island, which was an exclusive barrier island with sprawling beachfront properties. The location was a discreet haven for celebrities and executives, commanding average prices upward of five million dollars.

Given the area was considered laid back even while catering to the wealthiest in Charleston, the location also afforded several five-star restaurants. I’d yet to start worrying until he turned on a street that didn’t appear to be leading to any commercial area I’d seen in photographs.

“Hudson. Where are you taking me? Is there a restaurant at the end of this street?”

“No, ma’am.”

I thudded against the seat, furious that I’d allowed myself to fall into whatever trap was being set for me. What the hell did Maxsim think he was doing? I made a quick decision and one I knew John would be thoroughly unhappy with, but I just didn’t care. I wasn’t interested in being railroaded into doing anything. Even if I couldn’t lie to myself and say I hadn’t enjoyed the hour I’d spent at the gala.

Especially the banter we’d shared.

And the dance.

I’d felt good being held in his arms, which was ridiculous since the only relationship we’d ever share would be strictly about business.

When Hudson slowed to less than twenty-five miles an hour, I moved to the edge of my seat again, peering out the windshield.

The driveway was long, but the view was unobstructed.

A gorgeous house set on a knoll with the ocean creating a reverse cove around the property. Three stories, the beautiful home reminded me of something I’d see in Cape Cod. There were multiple wraparound porches, a very open layout, and views to die for. Including an area of greenery that must take significant work to maintain with being so close to the ocean. There were trees on one side obstructing views from the closest house, which had to be a full mile away.

I could also see a lush, expansive patch of green grass, foliage that rivaled any in an architectural magazine. In short, from the outside he lived in the lap of luxury.