As I sauntered up to my parents’ town house, I twirled my walking stick. Mason had returned to the States £250,000 lighter, with the reproduction of the Faun in his possession. Of course he believed he had the real thing.
Burdon, however, was still a force with which to be reckoned. Scotland Yard would deal with him, with a little help from MI5.
I climbed the shallow steps, pressed the bell, and let my thoughts turn, as they frequently had, to the man I’d left in bed in Los Angeles. Although I knew he’d returned to London, I hadn’t heard from Remy—I really hadn’t expected to—but how were we going to continue this relationship? Did he want to continue it? Might he be regretting what we’d done? I gnawed my lower lip.
The door opened, and Wilson gave me an effusive smile. “Mr James!”
“Goo
