The Darkness Within Him: The Untwisted series Read Online Free PDF Page B

could still remember the precise timbre of Nicholas’ voice, his divine fragrance, and even the exact conversations we’d had at my first piano lesson …
    My lessons with him had started almost immediately, three days after our first meeting, in fact, when I set out on foot to work my way to his Primrose Hill address. Of course Nicholas would live in Primrose Hill, wouldn’t he? It’s one of the most sought-after addresses in London and perfectly suited his “only the best is good enough for me” style.
    Primrose Hill is exactly what its name describes: a hill – more precisely, a large, grassy park containing said hill. Seeing as I was born and bred in the Lake District, hiking my way to the top of the hill is just like coming home for me, and I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve packed a blanket and book and headed up there to watch the sunset. An hour on Primrose Hill resets my outlook on life like the “refresh” button on a computer. Regardless of what type of day I’ve had, it never fails to remind me of just how much I love living in the chaos that is London.
    Luckily for me, it is also extremely close to where I live, and after searching out Nicholas’ address on the map, I worked out that it would probably only take me 15 minutes to walk there. Seeing as I didn’t want to arrive for my first piano lesson sweaty and red, I gave myself half an hour and walked at half my usual speedy pace, allowing myself the indulgence of window shopping in several upmarket boutiques along the way.
    When I arrived at Nicholas’ house, I had to check the address three times before I finally believed I had it correct. It was enormous. Practically palatial . Just looking at the stunning frontage of the Victorian townhouse made me nervous. Nervous and hugely envious because the house in front of me, with its gleaming white paintwork, was complete with gorgeous, plant-lined bay windows. Three stories in height, it had perfectly trimmed ivy growing up one side. It was the embodiment of what most people would describe as their dream home, and even without entering, I knew the inside would be just as stunning.
    Funnily enough, as nervous as I was feeling when I rang the bell, my tension was distracted by the total look of surprise on Nicholas’ face when he opened the door. He was dressed in a pale blue shirt and navy suit trousers, and staring at me with apparent shock in those dark blue eyes of his. I attempted a smile as I took in his appearance, but was so nervous I probably just ended up looking constipated. His hair was tousled like last time, and as I saw that peculiar half-smile tweaking the corner of his mouth again like a trademark, I already knew deep down that I was a lost cause.
    ‘Becky, you came. I thought you might cancel,’ he mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully before opening the door wider and gesturing for me to enter.
    My heartbeat had rocketed from just the sight of him, but I forced myself to stay calm on the outside. ‘Why?’ I asked with a frown. Always inquisitive, that was me.
    ‘You said you found me intimidating, I thought you might reconsider having lessons with me here.’ He shrugged, taking my coat and handing it to a man standing behind him who I hadn’t noticed at first.
    ‘This is Mr Burrett; he works for me, keeps my life on track,’ Nicholas explained with another of his almost smiles.
    Mr Burrett smiled at me fully before hanging my coat in a cupboard and then tactfully disappearing. Was he Nicholas’ personal assistant? Or perhaps a butler of sorts? From his smart-suited appearance, it was the only conclusion I could come to. I’d never known anyone with house staff before. How very opulent, not to mention terribly British, I thought, hiding a smirk.
    ‘I do find you intimidating,’ I continued, following him through a minimalistic but beautiful hallway and up a wide flight of thickly carpeted stairs, feeling braver now I knew there was someone else in the house