Page 97 of Desperate Victory

Security you could see were there to intimidate. Security you couldn’t? Well, they were there to do a job and it increased the likelihood that they would get you first. Ezra offered me his arm and I threaded mine through his.

I could almost read the regret in Kellan’s stoic expression as the guys fell in around us. He couldn’t go inside. Sympathy welled up in me. I would not want to be the one left behind.

With Ezra leading the way, we headed for the front of the villa. It was elegant and had a touch of French countryside chic to it. The driveway did not let us out immediately in front of the villa’s doors.

Instead, we had to follow a cobbled walkway to stone steps and then up a flight to a patio balcony where the double-wide doors with their etched glass awaited.

Secure, but with the appearance of openness. I rather like the effect. Ezra moved slowly up the steps as I climbed with him. The doors opened just as we reached them to reveal a silver-haired man in a tailcoat, bow tie, and gloves.

Maybe we should have brought calling cards. The man swept us with a look, before he focused on Ezra and myself.

“Mr. Graham, Miss Benedict, please, you’re expected.”

We were expected. The tension in Ezra’s arm seemed to stiffen the muscle under my fingers. Once inside, the butler offered to take Ezra’s coat and my wrap.

A part of me wanted to resist, but then we could leave without the coats. The uneasiness that settled in while we were in the car surged through me once more.

“Mr. Cavendish,” the butler said as he took Bodhi’s jacket. “Mr. Reed.” His accent was distinctly British, not Czech. He would be right at home in Downton Abbey. “Mr. Hardigan.”

Milo eyed him but let him have his coat. The butler passed off the jackets to a pair of footmen.

“Please, if you’ll follow me.”

He turned on his heel and led us deeper into the ornate home. The wood grains in the floor gleamed, freshly polished. Even the floors that looked like marble were wood. They were exquisite.

The first sitting room was clearly where guests might wait to be introduced. We bypassed it entirely as the butler led us to a much larger room beyond with a fireplace, bookshelves, sofas, and billiards tables.

Two of them.

Unexpected but not unwelcome.

“If you don’t mind waiting in here, I will get you drinks and Mr. Solohub will be with you directly, along with his guest. He had to take a call and wanted to express his deepest regrets for having to make you wait.”

“That’ll be fine…” I said, then raised my brows.

“Andrews, miss,” the butler introduced himself. “Would you care for a glass of wine?”

No, but probably a good idea to make a show of it. “Yes, please. Wine would be lovely.”

“Whiskey,” Adam said easily.

“Water,” Bodhi answered.

“Same,” Ezra followed suit.

“Make that three,” Milo added.

I had to hide a smile as the butler excused himself.

Ezra glanced at the guys. “You can drink, you know.”

“They are,” Milo said. “I don’t want anything right now.”

Which was fair. I didn’t really want any alcohol either. In fact, I’d rather just get the meeting over and done with. The social niceties demanded a lot.

“Relax,” Adam ordered Ezra, because that always went well, before he began to move around the room. I understood the need to inspect the space. What clues could we glean from the architecture, the art, and the decorations.

I didn’t follow him, but I did study the layout of the room, the Georgian furniture scattered amongst the Queen Anne, and far more modern pieces. It was—eclectic. Likely put together more for comfort than the aesthetic.