Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set)

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Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set) Page 222

by Edwards, Scarlett


  I think they might be looking to sell it. But that was not explicitly stated. They just wanted me—or anybody else—to come in and document the state of every room, every square inch of the property.

  It was a little unorthodox to offer to undergraduates. Most of my classmates probably saw it as such. They doubtlessly assumed it to be little more than glorified house-sitting.

  But I saw an opportunity. It’d be a chance for me to get away for one amazing summer and get lost in the countryside. I’d have this enormous estate to explore, all to myself. It’d be me and my books and nothing else.

  And being paid to do it? That was the icing on the cake.

  The driver turns off the road leading to the castle and brings me to the nearby town. “Village” might be a more apt description. Maybe even “hamlet.”

  I’d booked a room at a bed and breakfast for my first night. Tomorrow, in the morning, when I’m all fresh, I’ll see what sort of accommodations wait for me on the estate.

  ***

  I’m greeted by a woman named Tammy at the door. She’s polite but not overly-welcoming. She shows me to the cozy little room she has set up for me, tells me breakfast is at ten, and leaves me alone.

  I set my suitcase down and look around. The room is small but comfortable. There’s a little bed. The sheets are fresh. I even have a mini fridge stocked with bottled water.

  I take one out and unscrew the cap. My stomach rumbles. I’m hungry.

  Good thing I brought food.

  I fish out a bag of trail mix from my backpack, settle down on the bed, pop open my latest book, and read until sleep takes over.

  Chapter Two

  I’m wakened early the next morning by a banging on the door.

  “Dani!” calls the woman. “Dani, there’s a call for you!”

  I rub the sleep from my eyes. I check the time on my cell. It shows 6:52 AM.

  I frown in confusion. There are no missed calls. Why would somebody call me on the B&B’s landline?

  I stumble out of bed and stagger to the door. I open it just as Tammy is about to bang her fist on it again.

  She’s in a nightgown, and she does not look happy at being wakened so early. She doesn’t even make an effort at congeniality.

  She thrusts the phone at me and says, “He demanded to speak to you.”

  I blink in confusion as I take him. He? Who’s ‘he’?

  “Hello?” I say.

  “Dani Middleton,” a stern, rolling, deep male voice says. “You arrived yesterday, yet you are not at the estate.”

  “Who is this?” I ask. “Why are you calling so early?”

  “This,” comes the reply, “is your current employer. I expected you last night. You are late.”

  My brain starts to function, and I remember. “Sylvain?” I ask.

  A low, confident chuckle greets me. “We are not on a first-name basis yet, Ms. Middleton. I would not presume that we would get there, either.”

  I lick my lips. He doesn’t sound very welcoming, either.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I thought I had a day—”

  “You thought wrong,” he cuts me off. “I’ve waited all night for you. You owe me hours. I am not paying you for nothing.”

  Christ, does this guy have a control problem, or what?

  I glance at Tammy, who’s crossed her arms on the other side of the hall.

  But I don’t want to make a bad first impression on my boss. The thing is—I didn’t know anybody was waiting for me at the estate! Sylvain Alastair was who the employment contract was from, but I assumed he was an absent house owner. Why would he be here?

  “I’ll be there… soon?” I try. I wince. I hate how I made it sound like a question.

  But dammit, the tone of command in his voice threw me off!

  “Sooner,” he emphasizes. “I know you’re awake. It takes forty minutes to reach my property by car. Giving you time to change and shower…?

  “I expect you here in sixty.”

  He hangs up.

  I pull the phone from my ear. I stare at it in a moment of annoyance.

  “I expect you here in sixty,” I mutter, mimicking his voice.

  Tammy looks at me. “What was that?”

  “Nothing,” I say. I glance into the room. Good thing I haven’t unpacked yet. “Looks like I won’t be staying for breakfast.”

  ***

  There are no waiting cabs in the village. Duh. There are only like, two hundred people here.

  So it falls on me to cajole a ride out of Tammy.

  She’s not altogether pleased about it, but I tell her I’ll cover gas, her time, plus add a generous tip to the amount. She agrees, eventually… but grumbles about it the whole way.

  I get the distinct impression that she’s not a morning person.

  It’s only when we get in the car, and she sets her radio to some oldie station, that she finally remembers her manners and makes a little small talk.

  “We don’t get many visitors in the summer,” she says. “In the winter, yes. This is a hidden gem of a ski town. You’re the first customer I’ve had since early March, though. A testament to that.”

  That would explain the attitude, I think.

  She pulls out of the driveway.

  “So who was the man on the line? What did he want, and why are you rushing off so soon?”

  “My boss,” I tell her with a sigh. “He was, um, worried when I didn’t show up last night.”

  “And where is it you’re working?” she asks. “I presume that’s where you need a ride.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Over there.” I gesture in the direction of the castle. “The Alastair estate.”

  Tammy gives a choked cough. “Was that Sylvain Alastair on the phone for you?”

  “Yes,” I say. “You know him?”

  She pulls over immediately. She twists to look at me. “You came here to work for Sylvain?”

  “Yes…” I say, a bit of uncertainty seeping in. “Why?”

  “Then I want nothing to do with it,” she says. “Get out.”

  I blink. “What?”

  “Get. Out!” she shrieks.

  I jump. She’s serious?

  “And keep your money. I don’t need it. That place is cursed. Cursed, I tell you! Get out, get out, take your stuff, go!”

  She really is. Christ! “Uh…”

  “GO!”

  “Okay, okay,” I unbuckle my seatbelt.

  But how on earth am I going to get there now?

  Tammy hustles out and pops the trunk and dumps my suitcase in the dirt. I have my backpack over my shoulder.

  Then she sighs, takes a deep breath, and looks me in the eye.

  “Look,” she says, her voice strained. “You seem like a sweet girl. Really, you do. But if my late husband taught me one thing, it’s never to get involved with the Alastairs. Nothing good ever comes out of it. And I’m sorry for kicking you out, but I want nothing to do with that evil family.”

  I look at her in confusion. Evil is a very strong word.

  “And maybe it’s not my part,” she continues, “but if I were you? I would forget about all this right now. I would turn straight back to wherever you came from and go home. The Alastairs are a blight on our town. Don’t go up to that castle, girl. And don’t try hitching a ride from anybody, either. If they’re like me—and they are—they won’t take you within twenty miles of the place.”

  With that, she gets in the car and drives off, leaving me stranded on the country road.

  “What the hell?” I whisper. I watch as her car disappears around a turn.

  I look at my cell. There’s no reception. I can’t call Sylvain and tell him what happened.

  I grunt, irritated. I have no idea what that was about. But I’m not about to let some crazy old lady deter me from my plans.

  I pull the trolley handle out of the suitcase, set it on its wheels, and begin the long walk to the estate.

  Chapter Three

  I arrive some ho
urs later.

  I took a wrong turn once and got lost in the woods. It’s not a straight path. My suitcase’s left wheel broke off. I had to basically drag it behind me the rest of the way.

  But now I’m here… standing before the gates… and all my weariness vanishes as I behold the castle from ground zero.

  It is absolutely spectacular. It’s made of large grey stones. Two tall guard towers stand at the front corners. The entrance and first floor have been modernized. There’s a driveway leading up to it. It circles around a fountain that’s long-since been shut off.

  I see a guesthouse to the side. It must be new—it wasn’t in the online pictures.

  I get chills just looking at the place. If I turn around, at the top of the hill, I can see the tops of some of the buildings in the distant village from which I came.

  The sight must be even better from one of those towers.

  Immediately, I want to know the history of the place. Who built it? Why here, in particular? Has it always been the Alastair’s, or was it something they inherited later in its life.

  Well. All that I can learn soon enough. I have an Alastair on the property, after all.

  Though I don’t know how eager he’ll be to share.

  I try the gate. It’s locked. “Um,” I say. I look around. There’s no other way in.

  I pull out my cell, but—surprise, surprise—there’s no connection.

  Then I spot a figure in one of the high castle windows. A man, draped in shadow.

  He’s looking down at me.

  As soon as my eyes come upon him, he steps away and vanishes.

  At least he knows I’m here.

  I turn my suitcase on its side and sit on it. I yawn. The tiredness—from the long hike, from the abbreviated sleep—threatens to catch up to me.

  I doubt I’m going to get much of an opportunity to rest before nightfall. So I rummage through my backpack for that little container of diet pills I always keep on hand. I read the label.

  Caffeine content: 300mg.

  Yikes that’s a lot. But that’s what I brought them for. I pop a pill into my mouth and swallow without any water.

  And now we wait, I think.

  A few minutes later, while I’m close to dozing off, movement in front of me catches my attention. The huge double doors of the castle swing open.

  I perk up and stand. I know I’m going to be chastised by Sylvain for being “late”—but honestly, it wasn’t exactly my fault!

  I rehearse the little explanatory speech I’ve been planning the whole way. I wait for my new boss to come out.

  He does not. Nobody does. After the front doors fully open, a whirring sound starts from the sides of the gate.

  Duh, I think. It’s motorized.

  I wait for the two halves to slide open. Once they do, I pick up my stuff and walk to the entrance doors.

  “Wow,” I whisper when I get close. The castle feels so… so big. Big and menacing, but obviously impressive.

  I reach out and brush a hand along the outer wall. The stone is cold and gritty.

  I shiver. Despite the shining sun, an icy chill passes through me,

  I walk inside.

  There’s a long red carpet laid out on the floor. Along the walls hang ancient tapestries. Most of them have Latin lettering imprinted over the images. They depict battles, kings, that sort of thing.

  Oh, there’s got to be history here. I find myself teeming with excitement. The castle has to have been built age ago. I can just envision an old Scottish family settling here and commissioning the construction of a castle equal to one from their home. That’s what must have happened, I know it. There’s a very real power to the place.

  “Ahem.”

  My eyes jerk up. There, watching me from the other side of the railing, is…

  “…Sylvain,” I whisper.

  I’m thrown off the moment I see him. He’s handsome. Extraordinarily so. Also tall, with a full mane of hair that reaches almost to his shoulders.

  He’s lean and muscular. Dark stubble lines his cheeks and jaw.

  I bite my lower lip as my nerves kick in.

  Do NOT be attracted to the very attractive man, I tell myself. He’s your boss and employer! Don’t do anything to piss him off!

  “That’s Mr. Alastair to you,” he says. Oh crap. He heard me.

  His voice rumbles through the grand entrance halls. It’s magnified by the echo.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m Dani, and—”

  “Yes, yes,” he cuts me off. “I know who you are. I am the one who selected you from the other applicants, after all.”

  Other applicants? “I thought there were none?”

  “Oh no,” he laughs. “There were plenty. Your application is the one I chose,” he pushes off the railing and starts down the stairs, “because you are the one I wanted.”

  I swallow nervously. What does that mean?

  “What I did not expect, Ms. Middleton,” he emphasizes the proper title. “Was tardiness. Laziness. And a consistently bad work ethic.”

  My defenses come roaring up. Consistently bad? What the hell is that?

  I open my mouth to protest but he speaks right over me.

  “These are problems we will have to fix. But not to worry. We both have time.”

  He stops on the bottom stair. From up close, I can tell his age a bit better. He looks to be in his early thirties. Maybe mid-thirties. He’s one of those men who gets better with age.

  The cleanly tailored suit he’s wearing, however, feels excessive for the occasion. More importantly, it makes me feel a tad underdressed. A bit underprepared.

  And a lot overwhelmed.

  I force a smile. “I promise I’ll make it up to you,” I say. “You’ll see, I’m nothing like that. I would have been here earlier—I set out right after you called—but the woman driving me changed her mind and—”

  He holds up a hand for silence. I bite the remainder of my sentence off.

  “I don’t want excuses,” he tells me softly. “If you wish to demonstrate characteristics to the contrary of what I’ve described, you will let your actions do the talking. Yes?”

  Pompous ass! I think. But I nod and give a sweet smile. “Of course.”

  “I have certain expectations for your behavior, Ms. Middleton,” he says. “As you will learn soon enough. You will also learn that I am inflexible in my wants and desires. What I want, I take. What I desire, I possess.” His sharp eyes sear into me. They’re a deep, murky, seductive brown. “Understood?”

  I nod my head weakly. “Yes.”

  “Good.” He turns away. “Then your employment shall begin tomorrow. The dates on the contract will need to be revised. We will add two more to the very end. That way, there was no time wasted—except what I spent on you today.”

  He looks over his shoulder. “But as you said. You will be given every opportunity to make it up to me.”

  I squeeze my legs together. The way he said that… it was definitely sexual.

  I don’t know how comfortable I am about this anymore.

  He starts to walk back up the stairs.

  “Wait,” I call out. “What do I do now?”

  “Entertain yourself,” he says cryptically.

  “And where do I stay?”

  “The guesthouse has been prepared for you. You can deposit your belongings there. Then, you may look around. But, Ms. Middleton…” he turns to me one last time. “I am not to be disturbed today. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” I swallow.

  Chapter Four

  The whole time I’m unpacking, I keep going over my first interaction with Mr. Alastair…

  And all the things I did wrong.

  Dammit, but I should have stood up for myself more! Who is he to talk down to me like that?

  Well, he’s your boss, for one, a small voice reminds me. A man, for two. A very, very virile man, who’s infinitely handsome and—

  I cut that thread of thought off before it gets
me into trouble.

  I’ve always been attracted to older men. The boys my age always seemed exactly that: boys.

  I had a major crush on my literature professor second year. He was visiting from the states. Professor James Landon. Nothing came of it, of course.

  Though rumors swirled that he was very receptive to some of the flirtier girls…

  I shake my head. That’s neither here nor there.

  I take out my laptop and set it on the desk. I hadn’t planned on using it. I expected this summer to be filled with books. But now that Sylvain’s here…

  Well, I wouldn’t mind a little snooping on him.

  But of course the network has a password. I’ll have to ask him to give it to me… later.

  I look at my phone. I don’t have a signal. There’s only one spot, in fact, where I do. It’s in the very corner of the room, with my arm held out at an awkward angle. At first I thought going outside would help, but it didn’t. The whole estate is a cellular dead zone.

  Except in that little corner.

  I get up and go there and wait for the single, pathetic bar to show up. Then I text Min with my phone held over my head.

  Me: Here safe. Crappy signal. There’s a man!

  She texts back seconds later.

  Her: What? Who?

  And then, as I’m typing up my response, another text comes in.

  Her: Is he hot?

  Me: Very. I don’t have internet. Can you look up Sylvain Alastair for me?

  Her: What do you want to know?

  Me: Everything.

  Chapter Five

  Min calls over an hour later.

  I pick up, wedged between those two walls.

  “Hey,” I say. “If I get cut off it’s because I moved out of range. The connection sucks everywhere. What’d you find?”

  “Oh my God, so much,” she enthuses. “You ready?”

  “Pile it on, sister,” I say.

  “Okay,” she says. “Okay, okay, okay. This is—” she sounds breathless. “This is actually kind of unbelievable. If you told me you were working for this guy before, or that he was the owner, I would have freaked the fuck out!”

 

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