CONCLUSION
A persistent nudge roused Lucinda Walsh from the delightful daydream she was having. Oracle CEO Larry Ellison was just about to show her his many bank accounts. She removed the heated pack from her eyes, prepared to give hell to whoever had disturbed her time in the sauna.
"You have a phone call, Miss Walsh," the houseman cut her off before she could begin her rant..
"Who is it, Matthew?" she asked, reaching for the phone.
"It is Miss Griffin."
"Jessica, darling!" Lucinda followed Matthew out of the sauna. "How are you?"
"Your little plan didn't work, Lucinda," Jessica said dryly. "Would you contact your pilot and have him ready to go as soon as possible? I would like to come home."
Lucinda frowned. Something must have gone wrong. "Of course, darling. I will check to see if the necessary adjustments have been made to the plane."
"Do that. I have a feeling the plane will be in perfect condition when you call."
"Are you alright, dear?" Lucinda asked. "You seem a little out of sorts."
Despite her irritation, Jessica was amused by the older woman's audacity. "You and I are definitely going to have a talk when I get back to Oakdale. Goodnight, Lucinda."
After several minutes of incoherent argument with Stefan, Nikolas grudgingly allowed himself to be led back to his suite of rooms. Stefan quickly realized that his nephew's tolerance of his presence was due to one thing - alcohol. The odor permeated Nikolas's clothes and breath. What was he thinking to overindulge so?
Stefan stood watching as Nikolas' breathing finally evened. He had been unable to put him to bed any earlier. Every attempt on his part led to a rebuff by Nikolas. Though Stefan knew that he had caused the animosity between them, he could not help but hurt at his nephew's pain.
He took the opportunity to carefully remove Nikolas' shirt. Frowning in distaste, he dropped the handwoven silk garment into the small bedside trash bin. He made a mental note to have Mrs. Landsbury dispose of the clothing Nikolas now wore.
Entering the bathroom, he wet a small towel which he took and gently washed the sleeping youth's face. Tomorrow Nikolas would deal with the repercussions of his alcoholic binge. But for tonight . . . Stefan covered him with a light top sheet.
Satisfied that he would not be venturing from the bed again that night, Stefan returned to his guest.
Striding quickly down the hallway, Stefan turned into the dining room. "I am sorry. . ." He stopped. The room was empty, and the table had been cleared. He checked his Chopard wristwatch. Nearly an hour had elapsed while he was with Nikolas.
"Mrs. Landsbury," Stefan spoke into the intercom, "where is my guest?"
"Miss Griffin left about forty-five minutes ago," came the voice through the speaker. "She said that she would leave you a note."
"Thank you. That will be all."
Stefan looked on the small desk and then the table where they had dined. There was no sign of a note. 'Perhaps Mrs. Landsbury misunderstood,' he thought, making a visual check of the room. Then he saw it. The corner of her note peeked from underneath the Cabernet decanter. Stefan smiled. He appreciated her style.
Opening the folded note, he read her message. 'Stefan, I have chosen to make my exit while you are otherwise occupied with your nephew. His words made me think about a few things that I had chosen to ignore. Like how fundamentally different we are. I am glad we met, though. You are a wonderfully complex man...when you aren't faking your death. Jessica'
Stefan was disappointed that she had chosen to leave. He'd hoped to enjoy her company for awhile longer. No matter. If Jessica thought that merely putting physical distance between them would deter him, she was wrong. "It would seem that my objectives are clear," Stefan thought aloud. "First I must reclaim what I have lost with Nikolas. Then, Miss Griffin, I will claim what I have found with you."
