Chapter 103

 

"Really?"

Elena looked absurdly pleased with herself.

 

"Really," Richard said.

Then, after a brief pause, he added with complete honesty, "About forty yards."

Her smile froze.

Forty.

She remembered Richard casually sending his own seven-iron shot a hundred and eighty-five yards downrange.

"Hmph."

Elena turned back toward the ball and set her feet again.

"Again."

For the next half hour, she developed what could only be described as a personal grudge against golf.

She hit ball after ball, gradually improving from that crooked forty-yard attempt. Her direction remained unpredictable—some went left, some right, and two unfortunate balls disappeared into a small water hazard—but the distance steadily improved.

Richard stayed nearby.

Sometimes he corrected her stance. Sometimes he simply watched.

Whenever she lost her balance during a swing, his hand seemed to arrive at exactly the right moment, steadying her by the waist or shoulder before quietly withdrawing again.

"Take a break if you're tired."

"I'm not tired."

The thin sheen of sweat across Elena's forehead suggested otherwise. Her breathing had quickened, and when the dry winter breeze swept across the practice area, she gave a small sneeze.

Richard walked over and took the club directly from her hands.

Before Elena could protest, he removed his navy jacket and draped it around her shoulders.

Warmth surrounded her immediately, along with the familiar clean, woody scent that clung to him.

The jacket was enormous on her.

The hem fell almost to her knees, and the sleeves swallowed her hands completely.

Elena lifted both arms and waved the empty ends.

"This is huge."

Richard looked at her.

Wrapped in his jacket, she somehow looked even smaller than usual. His gaze lingered for a moment on the oversized collar and the sliver of skin visible above it.

Elena caught him looking.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"That was definitely not nothing."

Richard stepped closer.

Instead of answering, he caught the zipper and slowly pulled it upward until the collar reached her chin. Then he brushed a few loose strands of pale-blonde hair away from her cheek.

"Don't get cold."

Elena looked up at him.

"I know."

For a moment, neither moved.

The distant hills were quiet beneath the winter sun, and the fairway stretched around them in muted green.

Richard's expression softened.

Then his arm circled her waist and pulled her against him.

Elena disappeared into his chest along with most of his jacket.

"Come on. Let's get you something to eat."

"What?"

"Whatever you want."

Elena immediately started thinking.

"Hot chocolate."

"Fine."

"Roasted chestnuts."

"Fine."

"And taiyaki. The really crispy kind, but soft inside."

Richard glanced down at her.

"With red bean?"

"And custard."

"All right."

Elena blinked.

"They sell taiyaki here?"

"No."

"Then where are we getting it?"

"I'll have someone bring it."

"That could be really far away."

"Yes."

"Isn't that a lot of trouble for someone?"

"No."

Richard sounded entirely unconcerned.

"I'll pay them. If you want it, it isn't trouble."

Elena stared at him.

There were times when Richard's understanding of inconvenience was clearly very different from that of normal human beings.

Eventually, she simply tucked her face against his chest.

"Richard."

"Hmm?"

"You're too good to me."

He lowered his head and pressed a light kiss to her hair.

"Not good enough."

Less than half an hour later, one of the club's attendants arrived with an insulated food carrier.

The hot chocolate was still steaming, topped with toasted marshmallows. The roasted chestnuts were warm enough that their shells split easily beneath Elena's fingers, and the freshly made taiyaki had a crisp exterior with warm red-bean paste and custard inside.

Elena sat in the golf cart wrapped in Richard's oversized jacket, holding the hot chocolate between both hands while taking another bite of taiyaki.

Richard sat beside her with a tablet resting across one thigh.

His fingers moved rapidly over the screen as he reviewed a commodities-clearing report that had just arrived from Europe and sent instructions back to his office.

Even here, his work never entirely stopped.

Elena swallowed and lifted the half-eaten taiyaki.

"This is really good."

Richard looked up.

"Your people get full marks for efficiency. Fast and delicious."

He reached over with a napkin and wiped a small smear of custard from the corner of her mouth.

"Finished?"

"Almost."

"Then we can go rest."

"No!"

Elena immediately put down her empty cup.

"I was only weak because I was hungry. I'm fully recharged now."

She reached for the lighter club with renewed determination.

"I was getting close to sixty yards before. If I practice a little longer, I can definitely do better."

Richard looked at her.

"And I just ate a lot of sugar," she added. "I need to burn it off."

A pause.

"Good luck."

Elena narrowed her eyes.

"You could sound more supportive."

"I am supporting you."

"You sound like you're preparing to watch me suffer."

"That too."

"Richard!"

His laugh followed her back onto the grass.

A little longer turned into the rest of the afternoon.

By sunset, Elena could barely lift her arms.

Strands of hair had escaped her ponytail, a few pieces of grass clung to the hem of her skirt, and her wrists ached from repeated swings.

Richard took one look at her and simply picked her up.

"I can walk."

"I know."

"Then put me down."

"No."

Elena gave up.

He carried her to the cart and set her in the passenger seat before taking the wheel.

The sky above the hills had turned orange and rose, the last sunlight stretching long shadows across the course.

"There's a dinner upstairs tonight," Richard said as the cart headed back toward the clubhouse. "A few longtime French partners just arrived. I need to stop by and see them. Nothing formal."

Elena rubbed one sore wrist.

"English?"

"French."

"All of it?"

"Probably."

Elena immediately shook her head.

"Then I'm not going."

Richard glanced at her.

"I'll eat downstairs. Come get me when you're finished."

"Fine."

He dropped her off at the ground-floor restaurant and left two members of his security team nearby before heading upstairs.

The restaurant was quieter than the main dining areas, with floor-to-ceiling glass overlooking the club's winter wetlands.

Elena took a white porcelain plate and wandered through the seafood and steak stations before selecting a few things.

She found a secluded booth by the window.

Just as she was about to start eating, a flash of color outside caught her attention.

A small bird sat on the bare branch of a winter tree.

It was round and fluffy, almost like a tiny ball of feathers. Its rosy-red plumage stood out vividly against the muted winter landscape.

Elena leaned slightly closer to the window.

"A pine grosbeak."

A young man's voice came from beside her.

Elena paused and turned.

A tall man stood in the aisle holding a drink. He wore a casual utility-style down jacket, and there was an easy, relaxed quality to him that made the interruption feel more conversational than intrusive.

He gestured toward the window.

"They usually stay farther north, but some move south in winter when food gets scarce. The club keeps feeders around the wetlands, so a few show up here every year."

Elena glanced outside again.

The bird gave a tiny shake, puffing itself up even more.

The man smiled.

"See that? Fluffing its feathers traps a layer of warm air close to the body."

Elena was a little surprised by the unsolicited explanation, but his manner was natural enough.

She gave him a polite smile.

"I see. Thank you."

The distance in her tone was unmistakable.

The man stared at her for a second.

Then he sighed.

He slipped both hands into the pockets of his jacket and leaned down slightly, trying to get a better look at her face.

"Elena."

She paused.

His expression turned helplessly amused.

"You really don't remember me at all?"