My Beastly Billionaire (The Grimwood Legacy Series Book 1)

by Jackie Castle

  Elisa left that one unanswered. The reception wasn’t very good anyway, but at least she was able to find phone numbers, not that she wished to call anyone out of fear that she’d break down in tears over her situation.

  The massive house was much too quiet. Elisa liked being around people and the solitude would get to her if she didn’t find some way to occupy her time.

  “Oh, wait, I can finish hanging the wreaths!” Even though Mr. Grimwood didn’t like the decorations, that wasn’t her problem. He’d have to take it up with Kelly when she returned on Monday. If that is, the snow was melted so she could return.

  What if Elisa was stuck here longer?

  She patted her hands against her cheeks. “No, no, don’t think like that. The snow will pass and then someone will come to get me out of here.”

  Mr. Grimstone was a billionaire. Surely, he had some resources at his disposal.

  First, she would shower and find something clean to wear in that closet that held enough clothes to supply a small store. By time Elisa had come from the marvelous bathroom that had the most amazing shower she’d ever used, her breakfast sat on the sitting area table and someone had turned on the news.

  The breakfast was a simple fare of sliced fruit, a couple of boiled eggs, along with buttered toast and two dishes of grape and strawberry jelly. There was a note beside the fruit bowl written in fanciful penmanship.

  Good Morning, Ms. Elisa,

  Please feel free to help yourself to the downstairs kitchen if you get hungry. There are plenty of fresh snacks in the fridge and left side cabinets. Dishes can be found in the right side cabinets. Put whatever you use in the dishwasher when you’re done.

  And if you get lonesome for some company, stop in to visit. I’ll be busy all day preparing a Thanksgiving feast for all of us. I’m sure you’re missing your family, and we do not wish for you to be alone on this special holiday. We’re excited about you joining us for our meal. It’ll be served at noon sharp in the family dining room, right next to the main kitchen.

  Other than that, please call if you have any needs or questions. I do hope you’ll enjoy your stay with us.

  Sincerely, Margaret

  Elisa blew out a long breath. She didn’t wish to bother the kind couple. It sounded like they had a full day planned. Maybe she’d check in on them later to see if there was anything she could help with. Elisa had a feeling they’d be horrified over allowing a guest of the Manor to help with such menial tasks.

  But maybe not.

  By the time she found a pair of designer jeans and a pretty sweater to put on, an email from Kelly popped into the mailbox on her phone wanting to know how much she had been able to complete before leaving.

  Elisa gulped, wondering at Kelly’s reaction to finding out that Elisa was stuck here with the elusive Mr. Grimwood.

  “Maybe it’s better that she not find out just yet.” However, Elisa did need to see how much work had been accomplished. And she really wanted to finish the wreaths. Leaving jobs undone was like fingernails on a chalkboard. She was left feeling unraveled and very unsettled.

  Her boots were dry, thankfully. Leaving her phone to charge, Elisa headed downstairs with the breakfast tray. The toast had grown cold and hard. She dumped that into the wastebasket. The fruit was nice, and she ate one of the eggs, leaving the other one in the extra wide fridge for later. Mom would love to have a set up like this kitchen. Though she didn’t have time to cook meals every night, she made up for it during the holidays.

  After taking care of her dishes, Elisa headed for the double doors of the kitchen, but when she pushed on them, they didn’t budge. There were two small, round windows in the doors. She peered through them into what she supposed was the family dining room.

  There was another set of doors on the opposite side of the kitchen. She tried them to find the same thing.

  Margaret had said she was welcome to the kitchen, but evidently, that was it.

  Undaunted, Elisa ran back upstairs and headed for the game room. There was another exit from there. She’d simply loop around. Except, that door was locked as well. To her, not so much a surprise, the outside doors of the exercise room were also locked.

  “I really am in a prison!” She looked around at the fancy equipment, pondering her situation. Fine if they felt a need to lock off the parts of the house that Mr. Grimwood had asked her to not, as he put it, snoop around. She had no desire to snoop. But she did need to find out how much of the main rooms had been finished. If she didn’t come up with an answer soon, Kelly would call.

  Elisa was not one who lied well. She didn’t want to speak to her boss. If she did, then there was a good chance Kelly would find out that Elisa was stuck at Grimwood Manor. The fewer people who knew, the better.

  “Fine. Guess I’m stuck here. In my little prison. At the Munster’s Manor.” She wondered if they were expecting the Addam’s Family to show up for Thanksgiving dinner? Would they be serving ghoul stew and baked brains instead of turkey?

  Elisa gave a shudder, then decided that she needed to occupy her thoughts with something else. Kicking off her boots, she gave the treadmill a try. The movement helped to ease her pent-up tension. She didn’t like being locked in and alone. Her imagination went wild. Moving to the bike, she peddled a mile before noticing that the tall windows of the gym had doors, like the ones in her room.

  She climbed off the stationary bike and went over to the first set of doors, giving the latch a try. It wasn’t locked! Yes!

  Once her boots were back on, Elisa managed to push the door open. The piling snow only allowed her to open it enough to squeeze through. Whoever had locked the other doors, probably didn’t think to worry about this one. The frigid temperatures and thick snow would normally be enough to keep Elisa, along with anyone else from venturing outside. Except Elisa hated feeling trapped. And she was on a mission. She had a job to do.

  That was her story and the one she’d stick with if anyone discovered her trespassing.

  Making her way down the walkway, Elisa peered in the next set of windows to find a hallway. At this point, the balcony rounded outward and there was less snow accumulating in this area. She carefully tried the door and found it was also unlocked. Score!

  “Okay, I can’t leave the other door open like that.” She hoped it was also unlocked from the outside and it was, much to her relief. “Yay!” She cheered. “Now, I’ll make a quick check of what was accomplished, then I can reply to Kelly’s email. That will keep her from calling for details.”

  Technically, Elisa was supposed to be on a plane headed to Grand Rapids, Michigan. From there, she’d hitch a ride with her sister’s family to their vacation cabin in Madison Creek. The Lucken’s had owned the lakeside home for the past ten years, and it was the only place large enough to host the whole clan. So, all the major holidays were celebrated there.

  A dull ache stabbed at her heart. She truly loved being with her family and hated that she was stuck in the Munster Mansion all by herself.

  At least, working on the holiday decorations would keep her mind off missing everyone.

  That was her second reasoning behind breaking into Mr. Grimwood’s house and for crossing over the obvious barrier he’d set up for her. She didn’t purposely plan to invade his space. Most likely he was holed up in his room and wouldn’t even notice her.

  She’d make quick work of getting an assessment of what had been accomplished, try to finish the wreaths, then get back to her area like a good girl. Maybe she’d even see about helping Margaret with cooking. She’d offer help, anyway.

  Elisa paused a moment in the hallway, trying to get her bearings. She removed her damp boots and carried them in her hands, as she followed the hall around to another series of rooms. Her heart pounded, sure that she had breached Mr. Grimwood’s personal area. Where were those stairs?

  She entered a room that had several seats, like in a movie theater. To her astonishment, she realized this was a media room with a real wall-sized scree
n.

  “Oh man,” she whispered, heading for the opposite door. From there, she found herself on a balcony. Fanciful wing-backed chairs sat on each end of matching console tables that looked like they came from another era. Dried flowers, covered in a thin layer of dust, sat on the tables in beautiful ceramic jars with painted scenes of Victorian women and men on them. The walls were covered with magnificent paintings. In the corners of the balcony, tall marble figures stood: angels, women wearing togas and holding pitchers of water, their vacant eyes staring at nothing in particular. The walkway circled around until she was standing at the top of the circular double stairs again. Below lay her discarded wreaths, untouched.

  Her breath catching, Elisa hurried downstairs to retrieve them. Thank goodness they weren’t damaged when she dropped them. The pounding of her heartbeat in her ears sounded like distant rockets exploding. The vast rooms were so quiet, so empty of life, she wondered if she had somehow entered a crypt.

  “Stop thinking like that!” She ordered in a whisper. Straightening her back, she gathered the wreaths and laid them at the foot of the dark tree. It seemed dismal, despite its festive attire. Like someone arriving at a party to find they’d missed it by an hour and now everyone had gone home.

  Patting one of the branches, she said, “Don’t worry, you’ll have a chance to shine. He’s supposed to have that grand party. At least you’ll be appreciated then.”

  “I hope you’re not expecting that tree to answer,” said a male voice from behind her.

  Elisa closed her eyes. Busted. She slowly turned to find a disheveled Mr. Grimwood, leaning heavily on a cane at the base of the stairs. “No, sir. I’m so sorry, sir. My boss, Ms. Stewart, wanted a report on how much the crew was able to accomplish before they left. I wasn’t sure, not having a chance to check before…er…well, you know.”

  Mr. Grimwood leaned his elbow on the circular part of the banister, leveling his dark blue eyes on her. They were mesmerizing. She wondered what he might look like without all that facial hair.

  She hurried on, “Anyway, if I don’t send her a report by email, then I fear she’ll end up calling me. So, I came down—”

  “How did you manage to get out here, Ms. Lucken? I specifically told Sam to lock all the doors to the east wing.”

  Not wanting the kind elder gentleman to get into trouble, Elisa blurted, “And he did. Most of them.” She cringed, knowing the more she talked, the worse she was making herself look. “I, uh, was checking out the balcony. Those doors weren’t locked. I’m sure a simple oversight considering most of the walkway is filled with snow. I can see why he’d think those doors would be safe.”

  Mr. Grimwood bit at his upper lips. For a small moment, she almost thought that perhaps there might be a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. Then his brows furrowed, and the spark was gone. “So, you took it upon yourself—”

  “Well, there are so many doors leading out to the balcony, I—uh, it would be easy for someone to get confused and come back in through the wrong one, you see.”

  “Humph, you don’t seem like the type that’s easily confused, Ms. Lucken.”

  “Elisa,” she corrected, then figured he probably really didn’t care what her name was. “As I said, I simply needed to make a quick appraisal of what we accomplished. That way, I can give my boss an answer and avoid that call.” Wanting to get him off the topic of her trespassing, she asked, “Are the decorations really that bad?”

  His gaze flicked over the twenty-foot tree. “Yes. No.” Then he shrugged and added, “Maybe. Maybe not so bad.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Why would you prefer to avoid a call from your boss?”

  Elisa fidgeted with a couple of the ornaments and straightened out the garland. Talk about an evasive answer. She wished she could see the tree lit up, but didn’t think it was a good idea to ask at this juncture. “I figured the fewer people who knew I was stuck here, the better.”

  Mr. Grimwood blinked, his countenance relaxing a little. “Now, that is something we agree on, Ms. Elisa.” He glanced around for a second, as if considering something, then offered a slight nod. “Very well. Finish what you came here to do. Then please, return to your wing of the house and stay there.” He started up the stairs, his left leg seemed to be giving him much discomfort. That was most likely her fault.

  “Thank you, sir,” she followed him up the stairs. He simply didn’t seem too stable and she didn’t want to risk him falling off balance.

  “Duncan. My name is Duncan, not sir if you please.” He didn’t seem to notice her following him until they were halfway up and Elisa repeated, “Duncan is a nice name. It means one who is exalted of the Lord. Like someone who has the Lord’s favor.”

  Duncan stopped so fast, she nearly ran into him, but luckily stopped herself in time. She did have to grab his arm to steady herself. His midnight blue eyes widened for a moment on her before he glanced down at her hand.

  She jerked away and took a step downward. “Sorry.”

  His brows furrowed again. “Didn’t you have something you wished to accomplish?”

  “Yes, sir, uh, Mr. Duncan. Yes. I realized that I never finished hanging the wreaths.” She pointed across the room to the other set of stairs where the garland and lights hung abandoned. “I should finish that, don’t you suppose? Kelly will be upset if I didn’t.”

  Despite whatever irritation he might have felt at her intrusion, his face under all that beard seemed to soften. “Yes, I suppose you are right.” He continued upward and she followed along, trying not to say anything, but brimming with questions about the artwork hanging over their heads.

  Finally, she spotted one that she couldn’t pass by without knowing for sure, “That isn’t a Monet, is it? I mean not an—”

  “It is an original. Purchased in 1912 by my great-great-great grandmother. She was a supporter of the arts and often purchased original work from the artist when she was able.” He moved upward, forgetting to use his cane, and his leg must have objected to so much weight. He started to stumble. Elisa, ready to catch him just in case, grabbed his arm again to steady him. Acting as if it was no big deal, she wrapped her hands around his elbow, encouraging him to put some of his weight on her as she continued upward.

  “I love Monet. I saw a couple of other pieces that I was sure were museum material. So beautiful. I often spend my free day browsing art galleries and museums if I’m somewhere that has one nearby.”

  For a brief moment, Duncan Grimwood did actually smile. “I enjoy attending galleries, too. Or, at least, I used to. It’s been a while.” He let the sentence linger unfinished. Somehow, his hand had managed to slip into hers and grasped tightly as if every step depended on it. His cane was now tucked beneath his other arm.

  “Really? Maybe we…uh, well? Maybe someday we’ll bump into each other at someone’s opening. You know, since we have that similar liking.” They had reached the top, and she found herself reluctant to let him go. For a moment, he didn’t seem quite so beastly.

  “Perhaps.” As if realizing he was still holding her hand, he moved away, using the cane for support once again. “You should finish your, um, whatever you were doing. I need to go rest my leg. I’ll see you,” he paused a long moment, his gaze locked on her as if he were trying to figure out a difficult puzzle. Cleaning his throat, he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow. I promised Sam and Margaret that I would join them for their Thanksgiving meal.”

  “Oh good.” She headed for the place where she’d stop with the garland. The ties lay on the floor where she’d dropped them. Picking them up, she carefully straightened each one out, then gathered the hanging lights and garland. “I’ll see you then.”

  “Looking forward to it.” He bowed his head, then added, “Elisa, please don’t linger for too long.”

  “I won’t, I promise. I swear I have no interest in snooping around or anything. I’m…well, except for admiring your artwork. That I am guilty of. But—”

  “It’s only…,” he interrupted her, “If S
am finds out that you found a way over here, he’ll feel bad about it. And the thing is, keeping wayward guests sequestered to a portion of the house is not necessarily in his job description. He’s a good man, and I value his devotion and his friendship. I don’t wish for him to—”

  “Right, feel guilty that I— yeah, I understand.” Her shoulders sagged with remorse over her behavior. “I’m sorry, Duncan. I should have respected your wishes. That was very rude of me.”

  He actually chuckled. “I have no stones to throw. I fear we got off to a wrong start. But tomorrow… well, I hope I’ll be able to redeem your rightfully unpleasant opinions of me.”

  “I don’t—” she started, then realized she would be lying to deny his assumptions. Instead, she shrugged. “Tomorrow is a new day. New mercies.”

  The lines crossing his forehead softened, and he nodded his head one more time before heading along the hallway that must lead to his suites.

  Elisa did as he said and made quick work of hanging the remaining wreaths. Then she took a quick mental inventory of the other rooms, finding there was still quite a bit of work left to do. If she was stuck here, maybe she could…no, not unless Duncan gave her permission. She would not sneak past the locked doors again.

  By the time she returned to her wing, the snow had abated to a soft drifting of small flakes. Maybe the storm would move on out. The clock on the game room wall said it was almost noon. She decided to head over to the cottage to save the elderly couple from having to tote her lunch up to her. She’d also offer to help and hope Margaret was open to allowing her to do something. Anything.

  Elisa was starting to miss her family terribly and needed a distraction. Checking her phone, she found it was finally fully charged. She also found that Kelly had already tried to call. Oh, great!