Redemption of a Ruthless Billionaire
‘Sybella.’
‘Da. You were carrying this cute little kid on your shoulders.’
‘Fleur. Hang on, Deda emailed you?’
‘Yeah, your Sybella got him up to speed on that. Great tits, by the way.’
Hitting his brother hadn’t been going to promote family unity. Besides, he’d been a continent away. ‘I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.’
‘So you love her?’ Sasha had asked.
Nik hadn’t even had to think about it. ‘Yeah, I do. I do love her.’
There was a pause. ‘Are you going to marry her?’
‘She’s not very happy with me at the moment.’
‘Whatever you’ve done, man, if she loves you she’ll forgive you.’
But Nik knew one thing now as he stood on the perimeter of the road that spiralled down into the dark heart of the Voroncor seam: he had to forgive someone else first.
He needed to make a call and take a flight out to Helsinki tonight.
* * *
‘What’s happening, love? Has business called him away again?’ asked Catherine, hovering over her as Sybella dragged out her wellies and Fleur’s from the cupboard under the stairs.
It had been a week since Nik had stormed out of her house. A week of pretending, and Sybella was running out of evasions to satisfy her eagle-eyed mother-in-law.
‘I don’t know.’
They’d been at the May Day celebrations since dawn and Sybella had brought Fleur home for a nap because it was a long day with fireworks tonight.
Fleur appeared at the top of the stairs.
‘Ready to go, darling?’
‘You’re going for a walk?’ Catherine demanded peevishly. ‘What if Nik calls? Make sure you take your phone.’
‘He’s not going to call, Catherine.’
‘I’ll stay here in case he calls.’
Sybella handed Fleur her boots and then took her mother-in-law’s face between her hands. ‘Go home, Catherine. I love you to bits but please stop interfering in my love life.’
‘I have to,’ grumbled Catherine. ‘Meg won’t let me near hers.’
‘I want Gran to come,’ said Fleur grumpily, picking up on the adults’ mood.
Sybella sagged but Catherine must have seen something in her face and, instead of arguing, she helped Fleur with her boots.
‘I will see you tonight, pumpkin, at the fireworks.’
Sybella started feeling awful about her behaviour before she even herded Fleur out of the house. By the time she and Fleur were trudging across the field to the high wold she felt wretched. Catherine was the closest person she had to a mother and the older woman’s anxiety over Nik’s sudden departure a week earlier and determination to bring them together was only motivated by a desire to see her happy.
‘Look, Mummy, pretty!’ Fleur had a handful of yellow flowers she’d pulled out of the ground.
‘That’s called oxlip,’ Sybella instructed with a smile, and leant down so Fleur could tuck a piece behind her ear.
As she straightened up she noticed properly for the first time that winter had completely melted away and the countryside was fragrant with wildflowers showing themselves among the new grass.
The village below them gleamed with the local mellow gold stonework that was peculiar to the region and the May sunshine hit the church spire.
From here she could see all the windy yellow roads with their stone walls cutting through the countryside below them and the odd car wending its way.
It wasn’t a bad place to be miserable. And maybe Mrs Muir was right: there were all kinds of ways to be happy, and she would have to find a way by herself.
He wasn’t coming back. And one day it wouldn’t hurt this much.
Then she noticed a dark head bobbing up over the next rise directly before the valley dropped down into the village.
It was Meg.
She was running—well, hobbling, really—and as she closed the space between them Sybella saw why. She was wearing stockings and high heels, which looked odd enough as she picked and wove her way around cow pats and muddy spots. She was also carting something under her arm.
* * *
‘What are you doing with a laptop up here?’
Meg was panting. Apparently cross-fit classes in a gym did nothing for your ability to run an obstacle course up a Cotswold hill.