Gregor’s feet pounded harder as he tried to leave his thoughts behind.
He just needed to pick up a bit of speed, get more focussed, and give his mind something, anything, to think about other than the events of the past few days.
The perimeter path of the gardens surrounding his mansion was approximately a two-and-a-half-mile track. He’d had it levelled out and a flat all-weather synthetic polyurethane path laid as soon as he’d moved into the house, around four years before. While he used a treadmill when he had to, he much preferred to get out into the fresh air, and the natural surroundings of his garden. The surface was a green colour to match the lawn on either side, but at about the width of two lanes of an athletics track, it meant that he could safely and comfortably run alone, or with a couple of his team, two abreast. He made good use of the time to either brainstorm or cogitate, depending on his mood.
Gregor had always been conscious that his job involved sitting down more than standing up, between meetings and time spent staring at a computer screen. So, he took his fitness seriously, spending an hour or two every day either running, as he was now, or using the rowing machine or free weights in his home gym.
Having spent the last few days in the company of the Alpha-Stalwart men, he was so glad he’d made the effort, as while he was nowhere near the size of Tuck’s nephew Zach, or a few of the bigger British guys, he’d actually looked like he could blend in with half of the team. Of course, being a little over six feet tall helped. At least he hadn’t had to look up at too many of them!
At almost forty-five, he was still a few years older than most of them, but wasn’t showing his age yet, other than the few grey hairs starting to appear in his dark brown hair.
His skin was still smooth, with just a few laughter lines at the corners of his eyes, a product of his heritage, and the fact that he spent so little time in the midday sun. Luckily, thanks to a distant, great, great relative, he was blessed with a slightly Mediterranean skin-tone, so he never looked particularly pale, or he might have had to resort to spending more time in the great outdoors.
Well, if he’d ever noticed, that was.
Gregor wasn’t one to pay a lot of attention to how he looked in the mirror.
He shaved every morning, at which point he stared at the straight nose and blue eyes, below the short, dark brown hair. With no scars or blemishes, he’d always thought his appearance quite unremarkable.
He guessed he was pleasant enough to look at, and Natalia, had often told him she thought him handsome. But that had been twenty years ago, and she’d still been his wife at the time, so he’d guessed that rose-coloured glasses may have been in play back then.
Today he was definitely not thinking about how he looked.
No, today he was cogitating, and he’d been pushing himself harder for the last hour or more, just wanting to exorcise the memory of the visit to Colombia from his brain.
He glanced across at the lawn and noticed that the rabbits were out again.
Gregor smiled to himself. Ralph, his head gardener, would be swearing up a storm when he spotted them, but following a plea from Sophia the first time she’d seen them, Gregor had issued a directive that the rabbits were not to be harmed, and anyone disobeying him would be looking for a new job.
Ralph had repeatedly complained about the damage the rabbits did nightly to the lawns and flower-beds, and had asked Gregor if they could at least do something to keep the numbers down, or maybe re-home them a long way away.
Gregor had pointed out that if it wasn’t for the rabbits causing damage, he wouldn’t have need of three gardeners. If Ralph seriously wanted to have them moved elsewhere, Gregor informed the guy he would be happy to reduce his staff and just have a local firm come in and mow the lawn twice a week.
Yeah, that was why he still had rabbits and three gardeners!
Gregor glanced at his watch. Still only just past seven o’clock.
He’d managed about four hours sleep last night, but none of it was what you’d call ‘quality’. He knew he was going to suffer for it later in the day, but he just hadn’t been able to make himself stay in bed any longer.
His steps followed the curve of the outer wall until the house came back into view in front of him.
He had houseguests staying with him now, and he probably should make sure that his housekeeper had arrived and started to get everything ready for breakfast, in case one of them decided to put in an early appearance.
Although, after all they’d been through, the flight back from Colombia yesterday and the upsetting visit to the hospital, Gregor would be astounded if any of them showed their faces before lunchtime.
As the path forked, he took the left-hand branch, taking him the last few hundred metres back to the house.
His thoughts had once again taken him back to the Mazur sisters, and specifically the oldest sister, Tulli, and he couldn’t wait for her to get up, just so he could see her again.
It was bizarre that he’d made the offer to have the sisters stay with him, even before he’d seen them, knowing virtually nothing about them. But now, he was so glad he had.
He didn’t know what it was about the woman, but from the moment he’d spotted Tulli climbing out of the helicopter back in Colombia, he’d been awestruck. It was almost like the breath caught in his chest every time he looked at her.
It wasn’t that she’d appeared like she just walked off a catwalk, all dressed up and looking a million dollars.
On the contrary, like the other women, she looked like she’d been dragged through hell, dressed in rags, and had gone without a bath for longer than was healthy. She was painfully thin, obviously from a lack of nourishing food, and he could see how unsteady she was on her feet as she tried to walk.
But even so, her spine had been straight as she’d walked towards the plane, and he could still see her spirit as she tried to control how her sister was being cared for.
This was a woman who had been to hell and back for more than six months, who’d seen half of her family murdered, before she and her sisters had been kidnapped and… and…
Gregor couldn’t even make himself finish the thought.
The point he was trying to get to, in his muddled, and unusually inarticulate way, was that despite everything she’d been through, she still had a spark of something inspirational inside her.
The moment he’d spoken to her yesterday, with politeness and respect, she’d responded in the same manner, in near perfect, if accented English. She’d addressed him as ‘sir’, and listened intently to every direction he gave her, as though the previous six months had been blanked from her mind, albeit temporarily.
That had been… surprising.
It wasn’t surprising that she’d called him ‘sir’. He was the head of a large multinational corporation, so half of his staff would call him sir, rather than Mr Diminov.
And her following his direction was what his staff did daily, so that was no more than he was used to. So, no surprise there, either.
No, it was the way she did it.
Tulli listened to his direction, she considered it briefly, and then complied, or not, as she chose. But even when she chose some other path than the one he’d suggested, she’d given him a considered reason for not complying, which was both polite and charming at the same time.
Take last night, when he’d shown the sisters to their rooms, he’d already had his housekeeper prepare three bedrooms, side by side.
Tulli had inspected them all, selected the largest room, and smiled and said that they would all take that one, if that was acceptable to Gregor.
Gregor had tried to point out that all three rooms were available to them, so they could have one each, but Tulli had shaken her head adamantly.
“It’s not that we’re ungrateful, Mr Diminov.” She’d smiled sadly. “But we’ve been together for almost every minute of the day for the last six months. I don’t think I could bear to be parted from my sisters tonight, even if they could stand being apart from me.”
Gregor had wanted to kick himself for his lack of understanding of their situation, but the ease with which Tulli had smiled at him, and the genuine warmth in her eyes had left him tongue-tied.
Gregor Diminov was never lost for words!
But those eyes! They were the most beautiful shade of grey, as were her sisters’ eyes, almost a silver colour, but not quite.
When she’d been on the plane, the youngest sister sedated, and everything calm around them, they’d been a light grey, the colour of fluffy summer clouds.
Yet, when they’d been at the hospital and Mischa had been distraught, Tulli and Lara’s eyes had darkened, almost as though storm clouds had rolled in. It was most bizarre and yet intriguing at the same time, and had made him wonder what else might cause Tulli’s beautiful eyes to change colour.
As he cursed at the direction his thoughts were taking, Gregor headed towards the back of the house, wondering whether his housekeeper, Marcy, would have put a pot of coffee on yet.
He smiled to himself. Of course, she would.
She had worked for him for nearly ten years, and then relocated from Manhattan when he’d moved his entire business to Philadelphia four years ago, so he knew Marcy’s morning ritual as well as his own.
At six-thirty on the dot, she would have walked into the kitchen and set the coffee pot to brew for the first time that day. Two minutes later, once the tray was set with cups, sugar, and cream, she would start getting everything ready for the eight o’clock breakfast meeting. That would include freshly baked pastries, fruit, cereal, pancakes with maple syrup, and bacon, for anyone who wanted them.
Once the meeting broke up at nine, and she had cleared away the breakfast dishes, Marcy would disappear and do whatever it was that occupied her for the rest of the morning, before returning to the kitchen at twelve to get a meal ready for the staff for one o’clock.
Although he rarely bothered to stop for lunch if he was working at home, Marcy always set aside a plate for him, and very often he had glanced up from his computer at five or ten past one to see that she had quietly slipped into his office and placed a tray at the end of his desk.
Although he rarely stopped long enough to eat it all, he very often worked with one hand on the keyboard and a fork in the other, as he selected the choice offerings from whatever she had served him.
Gregor slowed his pace as he reached the deck outside the kitchen, and as he came to a halt, he began stretching to start his warm down routine.
“Do you run like that every morning?”
The quiet voice made him jump, and he spun around to see Tulli standing next to the patio table, her hands cupping a mug of coffee. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was wearing one of Sophia’s t-shirts and a pair of jogging pants that hung off her slender frame.
“I’m sorry.” She smiled at him. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you’d seen me sitting here.”
Gregor smiled as his heart-rate started to slow.
“No, I didn’t.” He admitted. “I was lost in my own thoughts.”
Tulli smiled sadly.
“I’d offer you a penny for them, but I think we’re both well aware that I don’t have a penny to my name to offer.” She shrugged. “Besides, I’m sure the thoughts of a billionaire are worth far more than a measly penny.”
“Trust me, my thoughts this morning are worth far less than you’d think.” Gregor chuckled. “I was just looking forward to a hot cup of coffee.”
“Aah, then you’re in luck.” She held out the cup. “This is actually for you. Your housekeeper spotted you on your last lap, and asked me to bring it out to you.”
Gregor’s eyes widened with shock.
“Marcy asked you to bring me a mug of coffee?” He asked, with more than a little humour. “The woman nags me constantly about my caffeine intake, likening it to nicotine or even heroin. And yet she sends you out here to tempt me with my worst vice? Incredible!”
Tulli pulled the cup back from him before Gregor could reach for it.
“If you think it’s a mistake for me to give it to you, I could always drink it for you.” She smiled, innocently. “I wouldn’t want to contribute to your downward spiral into a life of debasement, profligacy or even depravity.”
Gregor laughed at the almost childlike expression on her face, the only give-away that she was teasing him being the brightness of her eyes
“I don’t think one cup of coffee is going to lead to my ruin, Miss Muraz.” He held out his hand, hopefully.
“But is one cup ever enough, Mr Diminov?” Tulli handed him the mug. “Or have I just greased the slide and pushed you off the top, only to watch you slither your way to the carnage that would come with your self-eradicating, annihilation?”
Gregor stared at Tulli, his mouth open and his brain fried. This was not the conversation he’d anticipated when they met this morning.
“Umm, it’s only coffee, Tulli.” He snorted. “I don’t think one cup is going to bring me to the brink of disaster.”
He watched as Tulli covered her mouth with her hand and dissolved into laughter.
When she could compose herself, she gulped a few deep breaths, and exhaled slowly.
“I’m so sorry.” She whispered. “My sisters and I have always played a game where we try and fit as many big words into a silly conversation as we can. The words have to be appropriate, but they can stretch the conversation much further than it would normally go. Your comment about the coffee just set me off.”
“I see.” Gregor smiled. “You like big words?”
“Not especially, but it was how we learned to speak English.” Tulli explained. “We would spend hours after school with a dictionary and a thesaurus, and then at dinner, my father would start a conversation, and each of us would have to take a turn at contributing something, but for every five words we spoke, one had to be at least ten letters long.”
“It sounds like you were a quick learner.” Gregor took a sip of his coffee.
“We were all quick learners.” She acknowledged. “The reward was some of my mother’s home-made desserts, so it was ultimately worth the effort. We made sure we never missed out.”
Gregor watched some of the light fade from Tulli’s eyes as she mentioned her parents. Damn, he shouldn’t have let the conversation head in that direction.
“Did you sleep well last night?” He jumped in quickly. “You were up awfully early this morning. I expected you to sleep later.”
“I was awake at five o’clock, I’m afraid. I think Mischa might have made a noise and woken me, and after that I couldn’t get back to sleep. I hope I haven’t disturbed you.” Tulli went to stand up. “I can go back to my room if you’d rather be on your own.”
Gregor reached out a hand to stop her.
“Tulli, no. It’s fine.” He smiled. “Not only am I enjoying your company, but I want you to see this as your home. You and your sisters are welcome to stay as long as you like.”
Tulli’s brows drew together.
“Why?” She asked.
Not knowing which direction her thoughts were going in, Gregor couldn’t answer.
“Which why?” He asked with a smile, and enjoyed the way she blushed. “Why am I enjoying your company? Or, why are you welcome to stay?”
“Sorry, I meant why have you opened your home to us?” She shrugged. “Are you this charitable to every waif or stray you meet? Will they all be here for breakfast?”
“No, I confess, I don’t open my home to waifs and strays, not as a general rule.” Gregor admitted. “Although, I do make generous donations to various charities in Philly, and I believe that one of them is a homeless shelter.”
Tulli nodded, seeming unsurprised that he would be a patron of many charities.
“So, why us?” She repeated.
Gregor crouched down in front of her, placing his now empty coffee cup on the table as he did.
“Because, my dear, if not for a twist of fate, my daughter could have been in your position, held captive in those awful conditions.” He stared up into her beautiful eyes. “And I’d like to think if she had been in your shoes, that someone would have reached out and offered her a helping hand.”
“You could have achieved that by passing us off to the homeless shelter you sponsor.” Tulli pointed out. “You didn’t have to take us into your home.”
“True.” He conceded. “But then I’ve always been selfish. I like to see the out-turn from my investments.”
Tulli frowned at him, obviously not understanding his meaning.
“I want to see you all get well, Tulli.” He smiled. “I want to see Mischa recover so she’s well enough to live a normal life, and I want to see you and Lara start to get back to being your old selves. No more fear, no more ill-treatment. Just a bright and happy future. Normality.”
“Normality.” Tulli echoed.
“Yes, normality. I want the reward for my investment to be watching you all start to live normally again.” Gregor took her hand and held it gently. “Do you think you could work on that?”
Tulli looked down at their linked hands for a moment, and then up to stare him straight in the eye.
“I think we owe it to you, and to our parents and brother, to at least try.” She whispered.
He squeezed her hand slightly before releasing it.
“Then, what do you say we start by having a scrumptious breakfast, followed by a familiarisation tour of the property while you systematically catalogue your surroundings during the orientation process?” Gregor grinned, trying to fit in as many long words as he could think of.
Damn, it wasn’t as easy as you might think!
“Umm, I say yes? Maybe?” Tulli smiled.
“Right answer.” He stood up and led his way towards the house, just about resisting the temptation to take her hand and lead her inside.
He wasn’t sure how she’d managed to do it, but this woman, who was full of surprises, and more importantly, probably half his age, had managed to leave him enthralled, in less than forty-eight hours.
He definitely needed more caffeine!