Artful Lies (Hunt Legacy Duology 1)
Injecting some life into my legs, I rise to my feet and glance around, wondering where I should make myself comfy. It’s also an opportunity for me to take in the space. The greys and blacks are a common theme, even on the ceiling. If it wasn’t for the tiny spotlights sprinkling the space in a dust of hazy light, it would be pitch black.
The area is small but perfectly equipped. It’s an open-plan space with a zone sectioned off by a huge bookshelf serving as a room divider that distinguishes the bedroom from the rest of Becker’s apartment. There’s a kitchen, small but functional, and two oversized corner couches positioned to form a U-shape facing a colossal flat-screen TV that takes up most of one wall. Grey rugs are scattered, softening the feel of the sparkling marble floor and adding much-needed warmth. The Juliet balconies that can be seen from the courtyard are here, and I have a distinct memory of staring up at them on the first day I arrived at The Haven, wishing I could swing them open and stand in the morning sun.
I smile to myself, casting my eyes across the space to where Becker just disappeared. The bathroom walls are built with thick glass bricks, the light from inside basking the space in a soft glow. Wandering over to the bookshelf that separates the bedroom, I trail my eyes across the rows and rows of books, noting that many are biographies on various artists. I smile when I spot one on Michelangelo and pull the book from the shelf.
‘Your arse is glowing.’
I turn and find Becker standing in the doorway of his bathroom, his shoulder resting against the frame, still naked. Gloriously naked. ‘It’s also tender.’ There’s no resentment in my statement. Quite the opposite, in fact. It feels warm and comforting, a reminder that he was there. A bit like between my thighs. I flick through the book casually, but snap it shut when something comes to me. ‘The police,’ I say, sliding the book back on to the shelf. ‘I need to call them. Mind if I use your phone? You know, since I don’t have one at the moment. Because someone destroyed it.’
His scowl is playful. ‘I’ve called them already.’
‘Oh. Shouldn’t I have done that?’
‘Well, you don’t have a phone.’ He shrugs, and I still get no apology for his outburst and the subsequent demise of my mobile. ‘Anyway, it’s not an emergency and nothing was taken, so they’ll let me know when they can get an officer out.’
‘Oh.’
He pushes off his shoulder and wanders over, having a quick peek at the book I just replaced on the shelf. ‘Reading up?’
‘Just browsing.’ He’s standing close to my side, shoulder to shoulder, and my eyes are pulling in their sockets to get a glimpse of his back again, this time a close-up. I can see the crest of . . . I’m not sure what it is.
Becker looks out the corner of his eye and catches me frowning, but he ignores it, and I suspect it’s because he knows exactly what I’m trying to look at. ‘Let me show you something.’ His warm palm slips across the top of my bare back until his arm is draped across my shoulders. A delightful warmth descends, engulfing my naked body. ‘This way.’ He keeps me close as he takes us to the far side of the room, where the glass wall stretches from one end to the other and from floor to ceiling. On our approach, all I can see is an old brick wall across open air, but as we near, the Grand Hall below begins to come into view until we’re standing at the foot of the wall, staring down on the enormous treasure chest of antiques and art.
‘Wow,’ I breathe, taking it all it. I’ve been down there, been lost amid the organised chaos of wonderful furniture and treasures, but from up here it looks beyond incredible. I can see everything, with the exception of the section directly below that leads into the main building. This mezzanine floor is a late addition to this grand old building, and undoubtedly built to Becker’s specification so he can guard what he deems his treasure. It’s spectacular.
‘Pretty cool, eh?’
‘It really is,’ I agree, reaching up and touching the glass to check it’s there, feeling like I’m floating above the room. Looking down, I have a flashback and see myself fidgeting awkwardly among the priceless objects. I also see myself looking up to where I’m standing now and seeing the shadow of a man. The man standing next to me. ‘How long were you watching me?’ I gaze up at him to find he’s already looking down on me, a hint of a smile gracing his lips.