47

When they finally began to sink downwards. Vivian saw a series of slated rooftops forming the shape of a large country house standing in the center of sweeping clipped green lawns sloping down to a tiny lake.

As they settled on the grass a short walk away from the creamy painted walls of the house, she assumed that it must be a hotel. And only realized her mistake when Scott led the way in through the front door and she heard him greet a smartly dressed man, before strolling over to a side table to begin sifting through the small pile of letters she could see waiting there.

"This is a house," she murmured, pausing to look around the light and airy hallway.

Scott threw her a glance. "What did you think it was?"

"A hotel." His smile was more of a grimace. "This is my home—or the one I use whenever I'm here"

Eyelashes flickering away from the sturdy staircase built of rich golden oak which took up central position, Vivian looked at him, then away again.

"How many homes do you have?" sh