The gate was opened by an older man who’d come out of the house. Natalie assumed they would pull into the gravel courtyard, but Scott drove past the gatehouse and continued on what must have been the longest driveway she’d ever been on.
If something almost a mile long could be considered a driveway.
They drove under an enormous and very Southern-looking canopy of trees before the house came into view.
Oh my God!Her mouth dropped. “House” didn’t cover it by half. The two-story gray stone building sitting atop a rise seemed to be the width of a football field. It reminded her of the English country estates that she’d seen in the movies.
She looked around for a lake just in case Mr. Darcy, wearing a wet shirt, decided to come walking out of it.
Darcy. Suddenly she gasped and looked at her romantic fantasy man. “This isn’t yours, is it? I thought the compound was in upstate New York?”
He waited until he pulled the car up to another stone gate, this a good ten feet tall that seemed to encircle the property—she understood the “Fort Knox” reference now—before turning to her. “No, it’s not mine, and I told you it’s a country house.”
“What’s this?” she teased. “Just so I can get the verbiage right.”
He threw her a not-amused look. “An estate.”
“I’d say,” she murmured as he pushed the button on the intercom.
An instant later the gate opened. Whoever’s “estate” this was, they were obviously expecting them.
Natalie had been so blown away by the house she hadn’t noticed the guy in a suit with an earpiece patrolling the vast parkland that surrounded the main house.
The car rolled up the flagstone circular driveway and stopped before the entrance. She wasn’t familiar enough with architecture to identify the style, but it looked old, big, and English. Flat stone front, lots of windows, and a triangular-shaped white wooden pediment entry with columns. Maybe Regency?
She was back to Darcy again.
Scott parked and Natalie noticed another secret service–looking guy on the opposite side of the house as she pulled her bag out of the trunk. Whoever lived here was obviously concerned with security. “Do you have mob ties I don’t know about?”
Scott gave her a glare. “Very funny.”
She probably shouldn’t have teased him when he was so obviously tense, but this place was out of control. Who lived like this? Did Scott? It was awe-inspiring and off-putting at the same time. It was one thing to know the man you’d been dating was wealthy and another to realize you might have no concept of what that kind of wealth might mean.
She let Scott lead her up the handful of stairs. Before he had a chance to knock the door was opened.
At first she thought the distinguished older man who stood there would be the butler. Surely a place of this size had one? But if it did, he wasn’t the one to open the door.
She was barely able to control her gasp. She turned to Scott in disbelief, but he was too busy staring at the man before them.
The men were staring at each other, actually, andNatalie felt as if she’d disappeared. Scott had that swallowed-nails expression on his face while the other man’s gaze was with something more like desperation. He was trying to hide it, but it was there in the glassy shine of his weary, sagging eyes.
The silence went on a few moments too long. Seeming to recall his duties, the older man said, “Lieutenant Commander Taylor, I’m glad you called.” Natalie knew what an understatement that must be. He turned to her and held out his hand—something he hadn’t done with Scott. Probably because he sensed it would be rejected. “I’m Tom Greythorn.”
Introductions weren’t necessary, and not just because she recognized him from the news. Though he was clearly very ill, there was also enough of a resemblance for her to realize that he must be Kate’s father and Scott’s biological father.
She would have shot Scott another look—he’d been holding out on her big-time—but his father was watching. “Natalie Andersson,” she said, taking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Senator.”
Senator Tom Greythorn had had a long and distinguished political career in Congress. She also recalled that he’d also had some kind of connection to the CIA, which perhaps explained the security and Kate’s chosen profession. Scott had always referred to Kate by her married name so Natalie had never made the connection.
The older man shook his head. “I’m retired from all that. Please just call me Tom.”
She nodded. As it seemed Scott was just going to stand there and stew silently, she took it upon herself to say, “Thank you so much for, uh, having us.”
House party it was not, but she didn’t know what else to say.
She was about to elbow Scott, but he mumbled something like “yeah, thanks.”
Natalie understood his reticence—if not outright rudeness—but it didn’t make the situation any more comfortable.
