Regency Romance: A Duchess in Disguise (Historical 19th Century Victorian Romance) (Duke Fantasy Billionaire Romance) (45 page)

''What did the
foreign
guy look like?'' Leon asked.

''Blonde, tall, well built and wearing an expensive suit. He parked up down the road in a red Ferrari.''

''Sounds like the same man that was at the store this morning,'' Leon told Radley. ''He was
blond,
and there was a red Ferrari in the street.''

''Alright,
let’s
go back to the store. This man was client wasn't he?'' Radley asked.

Leon nodded. ''Yes, Tyra sold him some jewelry. In fact a few hundred thousand dollars worth.''

''Well, in that case,
we'll have his details at the store. Anyone spending that kind of money has to fill out a form stating that the funds used were legal funds and declared to the IRS.''

Back at the
store,
Radley went through the paperwork until he found the name Dima
Asarov
.

*****

When Sergey pressed the light
switch,
nothing happened. No light. It must be the bulb he
thought;
she's tied up. He went outside and rummaged around in the garage. He found
a bulb
and grabbed a torch.

''What the hell.....'' he shouted when he reached the bottom of the stairs. He dropped the torch and
bulb
and put his hands
to
his neck.

Tyra spun the piece of wood in her hand as fast as she
could,
and the cable on the end of it did what she wanted. It tightened beautifully around his neck. She gritted her teeth and wound as hard as she could until there was no more play in the cable.
Standing behind him, all she had to do now was hold on until he dropped to the floor, but he wasn't so willing.
He bucked and tried to throw her over his
shoulder,
and when that didn't
work,
he
tried
to stamp on her feet. Her strength was running out
fast,
and he was still struggling. He battered against her, but she held on. In desperation, she gave the wood a third of a turn more. Come on girl, she muttered, hold on. She let out a cry of effort as she pulled the wood to
breaking
point. Suddenly he stopped struggling and began to make a hideous noise. When he slumped
to the floor,
she told herself to keep the wire tight. He may be playing dead. But he wasn't.

When she finally let go, she dropped to her knees and picked up the torch. She shone it on Sergey and noted that his face was purple. As she was about to stand up, she heard someone on the stairs. She picked the piece of wood up from the floor and stood against the wall. When the man came into the room, he saw Sergey on the floor and a torch shining into the far corner of the room. Tyra lunged forward and hit him as hard as she could with the piece of wood. There
was
a sickening crack and
a cry.

''Dima?'' she asked.

''Yes, shit that hurts.'' Good,
she,
thought
. ''And this is for being an ass,'' she said as she hit him again on the upper arm.

''
Stop,
stop, for
heaven’s
sake, stop.'' He grabbed the wood and pulled her to him. She tried to break
free,
but he held her against him.

''I'm sorry, so sorry.
I didn't plan any of this.
This was
all Sergey's doing.''

''Then how did you know I was here? It's a bit of a coincidence isn't it, you turning up like this so suddenly?'' She landed a blow
to
his shin with her
shoe,
but he still held onto her.

''Stop struggling.
Mr.
Samuels called me and told me you hadn't showed up for work. He was worried about you. Somehow he knew we were
friendly,
and he wondered if I knew where you were.'' She tried to break free again. He put his head to her neck and inhaled her scent. ''I have missed you so much. I'm sorry, I know
I
can't ever make up for
it,
but please believe me when
I
say I have fallen in love with you.''

At his
words,
he felt her relax. When she felt liquid
dropping
onto her face, she put her hand to his head. He was bleeding badly. ''Come on,
let’s
get out of here, she said. ''You need help.''

He bent down and picked up the torch. He shone it around trying to get an idea of what had taken place. He saw a wooden chair with just three
legs,
and when he shone the torch at the ceiling, he noticed the cable from the light had been ripped out. There was a groove of broken plaster in the ceiling where someone had yanked the cable from the light fitting all the way to the wall. On further
inspection,
he saw someone had made a noose out of it with a winding mechanism. Gruesome, he thought.

*****

The doctor told Dima that a blow to the head of that
intensity
warranted a night of observation in hospital. Dima reluctantly agreed. When they wheeled him out of the treatment room towards a free bed, Tyra stood up walked with them. Once he was in bed, she looked at him. He had a deep gash
in
his head and
a terrifying
bruise on his arm.

''Jesus, I'm so sorry for that,'' she said. ''That looks
really
painful.''

''Don't worry, I deserved it, after what I wanted to do. I
was being
foolish,
it was the most stupid plans I've ever thought of.''

''Yes it
was,
and it will take a long time before I can trust you again.'' She scowled.

''Are you willing to try? If you want me to beg, I will. Tyra, when you were mad at
me,
and you left me and wouldn't answer my calls, I realized I can't live without you.''

''I'm carrying your child.''

He looked at her stunned.

''Here is what we'll do.'' She decided to say something, realizing he was temporarily speechless. ''I love you as well. When I was in that
cellar,
I too realized I didn't want to be without you. But I am as mad as hell with you. Madder than I have ever been with anyone.'' She reached out and took his hand, minding not to dislodge the drip. ''However, I don't want to miss the chance of a happy life with you. I will have our
baby,
and
you
and I will be together. But if I hear
anymore
BS about stealing things, I'll kick you out, forever. Agreed?''

He nodded, still speechless. He gestured to her to come closer. When she did, he whispered. ''Thank you.''

*****

Bradley was in the middle of breakfast when the phone rang. ''Thank God, Tyra. I was so worried about you. How are you? What happened to you? Are you joking?''

When he closed his cell
phone,
he was fully aware of what had taken place. He knew that someone had wanted to steal the Hope Diamond and that Tyra had
been kidnapped
. He also knew that she'd said nothing and been very brave. He didn't know that the father of her baby had in fact intended to steal the diamond. Tyra was willing to keep that from him. All Radley had to know was that
a very savage
man had intended to
steal
it,
and he was now no longer able.

''Eliana, get in here,'' he shouted at the top of his voice.

''Radley, how dare
you
shout at me like that,'' she exclaimed as she appeared from the kitchen.

'I'll shout at you how I like. I've had a belly full of you. It's my business.
My family founded it
and I run it. My name is above the
door,
and the tax man calls me when he wants something, not you.'' Eliana stood open mouthed and wide eyed as his verbal attack continued. ''We both decided to give it to Tyra. She's a good
girl,
but you pompously decided to take it all way from her, just because she made a mistake. You're a
prude,
and you always have been..''

''But.....but,'' Eliana floundered.

''No buts, I'm leaving the store to
her,
and you will have to get used to the idea.

*****

Five years later Radley and Eliana went on a world
cruise,
and Tyra took her position as manager. She felt comfortable in her role. Radley checked in with her every day from wherever he was in the world. Before he'd gone, he had asked a computer geek how he could connect to the stores accounting system from afar. That's my girl he would say every time he logged in and looked at the profits.

Tyra only had one problem. The glass cabinets in the store. They were
awfully
susceptible to sticky, little fingers. Jimmy was still a
baby,
but Dima Junior and Alicia weren't, and when their father took them to see mummy at work, he loved showing them all the
priceless
things money could buy.

Dima got the Hope Diamond for his
thirty-second
birthday. The woman in the picture framing store wondered why Tyra wanted such a beautiful frame for a simple
photocopy
of a downloaded internet picture.

*****

THE  END

He was taller than anyone else walking down North Market in Dallas. He was also much leaner. As he looked around, what he saw made him nauseous. Fat blubber America he called it. People with no
self-discipline
, filling their faces with all sorts of junk.
Fat
kids munching on fries, and their even
fatter
parents licking ice cream. It'd do them all good to
be sent
to a desert island and left to starve for a few months, he thought.

When he reached Wild Bills Western Store, he stopped and looked at his watch. He was a little early. He liked Wild Bill's. It was a
throw back
to the days when Americans were
tough
. When they wore cowboy boots and
stetsons
and ordered people to do things while holding a gun to their head. Not like the politically correct, soft, I know my rights kind of society that had emerged in the last decade.

He looked at his reflection in the window. He'd been looking at the same face for
fifty-two
years,
and nothing much had changed. It was still
thin,
and his blue eyes had the same steely determination they had always had. Only now he was more careful. When he was
younger,
he'd been
carefree,
and the cops had almost caught him a couple of times. He couldn't recall how many people he'd
killed,
and it didn't matter to him, but he'd learned that eliminating people was a serious business and needed to
be done
with
the
utmost care and precision.

Late, he thought. Tardy bitches, he didn't care for them. If they were slovenly enough to be late to such an
appointment,
they usually had
blabber
mouths. Two minutes and she can go to hell, he decided.

Just as a man and his wife walked out of Wild Bill's with a new pair of boots, he spotted her. He didn't have to
be told
it was her. He knew. They all looked the same. Trophy wives. Same body shape, same
hairdo
and same
pretty
face. Come to that, he thought, they all had the same personalities. None of them had done well at school, none of them had a career or built their
own
identity,
and all of them were
spoiltt
brats who thought the world owed them a living.

''Are you Steve,'' she asked. He detected a tremor in her voice.

''Follow me.''

As she struggled to keep up with him, he laughed to himself. She was just like all the others. If there
were
a quiz show called 'Guess who wants to murder their fiancee,' he'd win it, he thought. They reached a small alleyway
that
ran adjacent to Wild Bill's. He pulled her into it.

She gasped as he held her against the wall. ''Now listen to me. On the
phone,
you told me you want me to do a job for you. I can do that job. But it requires three things of you, all of which must
be strictly adhered to
. If you fail to do so, I will kill you and leave your fiancee alone. Do you understand?'' She nodded. Maybe she'd gotten herself into more than she could handle, she thought.

When he let go of her, she rubbed her upper arm. His grip had been
vice-
like,
and her arm had gone numb. ''Now tell me, slowly, what do you want?''

Britney composed herself as he watched her. All the same, he reminded himself. Brunette, five feet six, brown eyes,
pretty
face, anemic and neurotic. ''As I indicated when we spoke, I want
you to
kill my fiancee, as soon as we have signed the insurance papers. I'll tell you when.''

''Why do you
want
him killed?'' He looked round as a car drove past the end of the alleyway. It wasn't a cop car.

''I don't love him, in
fact,
I hate him, he's an alcoholic.
I'm
virtually forced to marry
him,
and I don't want to. He's rich and well
insured,
so I'll get a nice
payout
and be able to live a life of luxury.''

The same old reason as well, he thought. Greed. The bitch probably never got off his case, nagging and moaning him all the way to the bottle. Not being satisfied with ruining his life on earth, now she wanted the poor sod dead too. Not that he cared, money was money.

''The three things: First, you don't talk to anyone about this. If you tell a single soul, I will shoot you.'' Britney nodded, her eyes wide open and her bladder on the point of exploding in fear. ''Second, fifty grand up front, no negotiation.'' Again she nodded. That was the easy part she thought. ''Third: details, lots of details. Name, address, place of work, the
time
he comes home and the
time
he goes to work. Also a list of
places
he frequents regularly, and a list of his family members, friends and business colleagues.''

Britney hadn't expected him to be so frightening.
A head taller than her and dressed solely in black he cut
a very eerie
figure. When she gave it a bit more thought, she realized he ought to be frightening, he was an assassin.

''Now you have met me, you are bound to continue with the plan. No going back. I told you on the
phone,
if we meet you are bound. Do you understand?'' She nodded again. ''Remember if you don't deliver what I have asked for, it is you who will die.''

*****

Keke Miller looked through the window at the man getting out of the red Ferrari. Not bad, she thought.

''I wouldn't mind a piece of that,'' the waitress said as she poured Keke's coffee. ''We don't often get guys like him around here.''

Keke nodded in agreement as her eyes followed the tall,
well-dressed
man from his car to the door. The waitress walked back to the counter and Keke dropped a lump of sugar into her drink. Jesus, when will I stop doing that, she thought. ''Next time, take the sugar away from the table, Jessie. My ass is fat enough as it is,'' she shouted.

''You've got a complex, there's nothing wrong with your ass,'' the waitress shouted back.

Keke kept her eyes on the man as he walked to the counter, and spoke to the
waitress
. ''Over there,'' the
waitress
said, pointing at Keke. Keke sat upright on the red seat and
curiously
watched as he walked towards her.

''Hi, are you Keke Miller?'' he asked.

Keke looked at him. He wasn't the usual type of man that came to her for advice. ''Yes, that's me.''

''I'm Dan Stephenson, I called into your office a few minutes ago. Your secretary told me you could be found here most
lunchtimes
.''

Darn woman, Keke thought. How often had she told Janice that she wasn't to be disturbed at lunchtime? ''Sure. Well, you've found me. Take a seat and tell me what I can do for you.''

Dan sat down on the other side of the booth and pushed the unused cutlery
to one side
. Beautiful woman, not at all like the stereotypical private detective, he thought. Since when were they young, black and attractive? ''You're not what I was expecting,'' he said.

''Really? And what were you expecting?,'' Keke said, leaning forward.

''I don't know. Most private detectives are white,
middle-aged
and fat. They are in the movies anyhow.''
Then, at least,
he doesn't think I'm fat, Keke thought. ''I need someone to watch my fiancee,'' he continued.

Keke raised her eyebrows and leaned back again. ''Why?''

''
Er..
I...do
n't
really
know I.....''

Keke looked at him and ticked off his features against her wish list. Dazzling green eyes, tall, well built, dark hair well cut, white smile,
beautiful
honest-looking face, no designer stubble and about her
twenty-five
, her age. Perfect. ''Dan, if you don't know why you're asking me to investigate your fiancee, how do you expect me to be able to help you?''

Dan felt embarrassed. The beautiful woman opposite him with the seductive lips and sexy
smile
had pointed out a flaw in his presentation of the problem. Lack of preparation, he usually did a much better job in his business, so why not now?
He
wondered

''Yes.. er ... sorry. Perhaps you'll allow me to be more
specific
?'' He picked up a spoon and threaded it through his fingers as he waited
for Keke
to nod. ''I have been engaged for around three months. My fiancee and I live together. Since we became
engaged
, her behavior has changed dramatically.''

Jesus, this man really can't get to the point, Keke noted. ''Dan, let me help you. You think she's screwing someone else, and you want me to check it out.''

''Maybe,'' Dan said as he looked around the diner. When he saw a picture of a tin of Budweiser, he was sorely tempted, but
he
remembered
all to
well, what Dr. Needham had told him would happen if he had another drink. '' I don't know whether she's having an affair, but I want her checked out before I settle down and marry her. She won't touch me
anymore,
and she spends two or three nights a week at a girlfriends house. She's just behaving
really
weird.''

Keke sighed and looked at her watch. She was anxious not to miss her two o'clock appointment with
Mr.
Sanderson. He could be
really important
for her struggling practice, she thought. If Dan
were
asking her on a date, she'd say yes, without hesitation. But asking her to investigate his woman just because her behavior had suddenly changed, was a much less
interesting
proposition. ''Dan, you'll have to excuse me. I have an appointment
soon,
and I need to go. It was
nice
to meet you.'' Keke nodded to the waitress who brought the check. When she put it on the table, she smiled at Dan and gave him a wink.

''I'm Jessie,'' she said, hopefully.

Dan stood up as Keke left the table and watched her walk towards the door. He'd always been a sucker for a woman in a business suit and black stockings, especially one with such a beautiful behind as hers, he thought. ''My Dad's Ernie Stephenson,'' he shouted after her.

Keke stopped and turned around. ''Ernie Stephenson from ESM, the largest mining company in the world?'' she asked, trying to hide the sudden surge of interest within her.

Dan looked at her and noticed how her breasts fought against the softness of her blouse. ''Er..yes. That's my father.'' Dropping his father's name worked every time, he thought, as Keke began to walk back to him.

''I'm sorry I was a little abrupt,'' she said. ''I
really
do have an appointment at two, but can you hang on until it's finished? It shouldn't take too long.''

''Okay, then let me give you a ride,'' Dan said.

''I usually walk, it's good for me, but I've never been in a Ferrari so why not.''

When Keke got into the
low
seat, her skirt rode up, revealing her soft thighs, a fact that didn't escape him.

*****

Dan pulled up outside the office and took a good look at it. The peeling paintwork around the
windows
and the weeds growing through the surface of the small parking lot led Dan to one conclusion. Keke's business was not flourishing. When she opened the door, he was already round at the passenger side, helping her up. Chivalrous as well as hot, she thought.

''Come with me. It's not much of an office I'm afraid. I've only just started the business. The
office
needs some renovation work doing.'' Inside it was a scruffy as outside, which surprised Dan because Keke was obviously the kind of person who took great care in her personal appearance. Perhaps it was a lack of money, not a lack of will, he thought.

A man in his middle sixties stood up and shook Keke's hand. ''Dan would you mind sitting here for a while?'' Keke picked up some old magazines from the arm chair and put them on the glass coffee table. Why the hell do I employ a secretary, if I have to do everything myself, she thought.

''Janice, make
Mr.
Stephenson some
tea,
please.'' Keke left Dan to the mercy of her secretary and disappeared into the back office with
Mr.
Sanderson.