Crash Page 21

I looked out of the window and saw a cute, small garden and even more of the English countryside. How wonderful it must be to live here, I thought.

“I don’t know about this place. It’s a bit—minimalistic.”

“I think it’s great. She was so excited to see you.”

He grinned. “Lots of women are excited to see me.”

I guess I had that one coming. I tried to bury my smile. “Do you have to be such an ass?”

My heart jumped as he pushed himself off the bed and walked towards me. I was suddenly aware of how alone we were, and how tall and imposing he was. My heart thudded painfully. I wondered what it would be like to be married to him. Probably hellish. But waking up to his face like his every morning would be a dream. Overwhelmed with that vision, my hand flew to my necklace and yanked on the chain.

His lips smiled. “You always do that when you’re nervous.”

“What?” I said defensively. “Do what?”

He just gave me a satisfied grin. “It’s flattering, but you don’t need to be nervous around me.”

His words sent a flash of heat up my spine. The air felt entirely too hot as his hand ever so slightly gripped mine. His thumb stroked the palm of my hand and I felt a wave of dizziness so strong that I stumbled back. Will’s eyes seared through me.

“You’re tired. You need sleep,” he said firmly.

I looked at the one bed. “So much for keeping it professional.”

“Well, I pre-booked everything back when I thought we were going to be fucking.”

“Jesus, Will!”

He shrugged. “Relax, Natalie. I won’t touch you.”

Why not? Was he really going to deny the chemistry we had? I was embarrassed by what he said, but at the same time I felt insulted. Why am I not good enough for that? But I knew why. I turned him off by agonizing over Ben or because I was too uptight.

Still holding my hand, his head bent down to give me a chaste kiss on my cheek. He pulled back, looking a bit pink in the face. “Thank you. For helping me.”

I felt the burn mark of his lips on my face as if he ironed it on. “No problem,” I said faintly.

“Now go to sleep.”

“What about you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to sleep right now.”

He didn’t want to return to the nightmares he knew would haunt him. I let go of his hand reluctantly, but my body was screaming for sleep. I threw back the covers and slid inside as Will sat down on a comfortable chair near the windows. I tried not to stare at him too much and I denied the desire coursing through my veins like really good whiskey. More than anything in my life, I wanted to crawl into his lap and lace my fingers around his neck. I wanted his arms wrapped around me, whispering sweet nothings in my ear.

Chapter 6

I woke up to brilliant sunshine pouring into my room and propped myself up on my elbows. Will was gone. Poor Will had spent the night in the chair while I slept on the bed. It was his fault for not booking separate rooms, but I still felt bad about it.

I slipped out of bed and padded to the bathroom. The shower door was sprinkled with droplets. Will took a shower while I was asleep. As I turned the water on and removed my clothes, I imagined him bursting into the bathroom while I was in the shower. A delicious shiver ran up my leg. How hot would that be?

Stop thinking about that. You’re here to do a job.

Right. I was supposed to be thinking about designs, not lusting after a man who, no matter how attractive he was, had emotional problems. I also didn’t forget how cruelly he had shut me down back on the airplane. Stop pining over him!

Dressing quickly after my shower, I left the room and descended the rickety staircase.

“Good morning!” said Mary when I reached the first floor. “Sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Breakfast is in the solarium along with your husband.”

Husband? Oh, right. William. I followed the sunshine into the next room, which poured through the glass windows. There, I found an extremely tired looking Will surrounded by a banquet of food. He looked dead on his feet.

On the left was a table with plates and I grabbed one, loading it with food: figs stewed in tea, some sort of concoction with grapefruit, fresh rolls, and homemade jam.

“Would you like coffee or tea? Traditional English breakfast or would you like the American version?”

I might as well go all the way. “Tea and English breakfast, thank you.”

She left the room and I nodded at Will from across the table. His eyes were bloodshot.

He sipped his coffee. “This British coffee is weak shit,” he hissed.

“Will, you should really go for a nap. I can walk around by myself.”

He shook his head stubbornly. “I’ll be fine.”

“What do you think about the food so far?”

Will nodded in a so-so manner. “She wins points for making and selling her own jam. And it’s actually pretty good.”

I spread some of the gooseberry jam over a fresh roll and I moaned at the explosion of flavor. “Wow, that is good.”

“Here it is!” Mary re-entered the solarium with a heavy plate of food for me. She dropped it in front of me.

“Uh—thanks!”

There was a pile of what looked like canned beans in a red sauce, fried tomato slices, strips of what looked like ham, and fried eggs. Will smirked at me from across the table and laughed when I tried some of the beans. On the whole, it was pretty unremarkable.

“What is this?”

I forked the meat, which was very thick and fatty.

He laughed. “It’s English bacon.”

I tried it. It was too thick and reminded me of ham. I immediately set it aside and picked my way throughout the plate.

“I don’t like it,” I said in an undertone.

Will gave me an amused glance. “It’s a traditional dish. If you asked me, I would have told you to avoid it.”

I didn’t ask you. “It’s not too bad.” I shrugged.

After breakfast, Will and I left the cottage to explore the Cotswolds. We drove to Bourton-on-the-Water, where a wide, slow river ran through the whole village. Low-arched stone bridges added to the charm of the bustling village, which looked like something out of a Hollywood set. The little stone houses bordered the river and a market of vendors selling wool clothing made the whole place seem somehow fabricated. Places like this simply couldn’t exist. Most of the village’s population had greying or white hair. William and I were probably the youngest people there.

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