Page 5 of Hunter

Edgar didn’t understand art at all, and Zoey was pretty sure that the only reason he had allowed her to go to university to study for an art degree was so that she wasn’t constantly under his feet after she left boarding school two years ago. They had become even more estranged during those two years.

Which made it doubly strange that Zoey had felt drawn to return to Cornwall today.

Oh, she had an affection for Edgar. After all, he had accepted guardianship of her after her parents died. He had even cared for her in his cold and distant manner.

Even so, Zoey had missed her parents’ love and affectionate attention all these years. Edgar didn’t seem capable of giving either of those softer emotions.

If Zoey was being completely honest, she found it surprising that he and her father had been friends at all. She remembered her father as being very much like her: always smiling and never taking anything too seriously. The exact opposite of Edgar.

Her father had been a hit-or-miss investor in business, meaning that sometimes they were rich and sometimes they weren’t. Her mother had been the more practical one in the marriage, always ensuring there was enough money put by for those times when an investment didn’t pay off. But Zoey remembered her mother as also being smiling and indulgent with both her husband and her daughter, which had added considerably to the family’s happiness.

Because they were so different, Zoey had once asked Edgar about his friendship with her father. He had explained that they’d met at university, where they had shared a dorm room for a year. They had kept in touch, from a distance after university in the years that followed, and more recently, Edgar had become her father’s lawyer.

“I thought you were in the Highlands celebrating Hogmanay with your friends?”

Zoey shook off her thoughts of the past to look across the desk at Edgar. “It came to a tragic end, unfortunately.”

“Oh?”

She grimaced at the lack of emotion or interest in his voice. “Ben, the guy whose family we were staying with, fell to his death from a mountain nearby.”

Light brown eyebrows, speckled with gray, rose over Edgar’s pale blue eyes. “How awful for you.”

Zoey snorted. “I believe it was more awful for Ben and his family.”

“Well…yes,” her uncle conceded briskly. “But somewhat disturbing for his guests too.”

“Of course,” she conceded, knowing it would be useless to point out that she found Edgar’s reaction to be more than a little emotionless.

But it was Edgar’s nature to be emotionally cold. It always had been. Not just to her but to everyone.

“I—” She broke off what she had been about to say when Penrose, having knocked briefly on the door and been invited to enter by her uncle, now stood in the doorway.

“Yes?” Edgar prompted tersely, obviously irritated by this second interruption to his morning.

“A gentleman has arrived at the house, Mr. Willis,” Penrose answered mildly, used to his employer’s abruptness. “His car has broken down some half a mile away, and so he walked here to ask if he might use the telephone to call for assistance.”

“Doesn’t he have a cell phone?” Edgar bit out.

The butler shrugged. “Apparently, it is in need of charging.”

Edgar’s nostrils flared as he muttered under his breath about “so-called modern conveniences” and the “incompetence” of the people who used them.

“I didn’t like to just say yes without asking your permission first,” the cautious Penrose added.

“You have it,” Edgar dismissed impatiently, obviously already tired of the subject.

“I’ll come with you, Penrose.” Zoey stood up. “Perhaps our visitor would like a cup of coffee while he’s waiting to be rescued,” she added as she followed the butler out of the study and closed the door behind her. “I think my uncle’s social skills are getting worse,” she joked dryly to the butler as the two of them walked down the hallway toward the front of the house.

“He has been more distracted than usual of late,” the butler conceded.

“I trust you at least asked our visitor to wait in the sitting room rather than leaving him standing outside in the cold?” she teased.

“I did, yes.” Penrose smiled. “Shall I bring through coffee and biscuits for you both?”

“Perfect,” she approved before veering off to the right of the main entrance hall in the direction of the sitting room, while the butler headed left toward the kitchen. “I am so sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr.—”

Zoey, having entered the room where their visitor was waiting, had come to an abrupt halt, both verbally and physically, the moment she set eyes on the man standing by the window.

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