“How?”
“I’ll tell you over the vodka and tissues.”
She laughs. “I’d love to hear how you ended up in England with Win.”
I nip at my lip, wondering what Ryker’s told her. But I don’t have time to answer as a knock sounds at the door. “Miss,” a male voice calls on the other side of the door. “I’m one of the footmen. His Grace has been in an accident, and your assistance is needed at once.”
“Sasha, I’ve got to go!” I cry, hanging up before she can ask a single question. I race to the door, throwing it open, my breath comes out in rush, “What happened?”
“I don’t know. I’ve just been given instructions to take you to London.”
I spin, grabbing my jacket before I clutch it to my chest and run back to the door. “I’m ready.”
“Right this way, Miss. I’ve acquired a car so that I can drive you myself.”
If Win needs me, I don’t care what my reservations are, I will help him however I can.
He takes me toward the back of the house, down the servants’ stairs and out by the kitchen to a carriage house where a whole parcel of cars wait. Grabbing a set of keys from a peg board, he leads me to a nondescript sedan.
I don’t think twice as he opens my door, helping me in. Pulling down the drive, I play a thousand scenarios through my head.
Win in a car accident. A shooting. He’s surely got enemies. A man can’t be that powerful and uncompromising without them.
We pull up to the gate, the auto-locks clicking as the footman rolls down the window. “Errands?” the guard asks.
“Errands?” I repeat.
“Something like that,” the footman answers as he rolls the window back up, the gate swinging open.
I turn to look at him. If there had been an accident, everyone in the house would have heard about it. “What’s your name?”
“John,” he answers, picking up speed. He’s probably in his thirties, with the kind of face that’s easy to forget. It’s a good face for being a bad guy.
“John,” I repeat, quietly. “What kind of accident did you say it was.”
“Didn’t.”
“Where are we going?” I ask, relaxed in my seat. I’ve faced off with the head of a Bratva family. John doesn’t know what’s about to hit him.
“Um…London.”
“Where in London?” I try again.
“I don’t…I’m not…” I see him wince.
“That’s fine,” I answer softly. I can’t drive anyway, so John can chauffeur me there. “But why don’t you speed it up. I’m so worried about His Grace.”
I see his look of relief. “I will.”
I’m almost insulted. This guy has no idea how to put on a decent deception. He did manage to get me in the car though, I’ll give him that.
“Can you give me your phone? I want to look up hospitals. Maybe if I name them, you’ll remember which one we’re supposed to go to.”
“Uh…”
“I forgot mine, I was in such a panic,” I try to add a little drama into my voice, like I might cry.
He grabs a phone from his vest and hands it over.
