‘They’re having a proper Scottish party.’ I nudged her shoulde. ‘And you didn’t ruin it by policing their fun.’
She exhaled slowly and let her hand rest on my thigh, which sent my brain melting out of my ears.
‘Maybe I am a bit tightly wound,’ Amanda admitted.
‘A bit,’ I said. ‘But it’s alright. I can think of half a dozen ways to help you unwind.’
Her eyes snapped to mine, and for a moment, the noise around us ceased to matter.
Just us.
Then Rita dropped a shot glass into someone’s pint, and the spell shattered.
Amanda groaned, but stayed seated, her fingers drawing tiny circles on my thigh. She leaned back against my arm, letting the chaos continue around her.
thirteen
AMANDA
By late morning,reindeer filled the driveway, as well as half of the village. What had been arranged as a photoshoot with the elaborately decorated sleigh, a very realistic Father Christmas, and a whole team of antlered reindeer had turned into an impromptu gathering. After many drinks, Rita had suggested that anyone with kids come on up. The photographer had been somewhat dismayed until I negotiated a fat cheque for her. Rita hadn’t even blinked, just added a couple of zeros and signed it off. The children were bouncing like they’d had sugar-coated syrup-laden e-numbers for breakfast.
The housekeeper, Pru, fussed over them with glee.
Which meant I had a chance to step away.
To relax my aching false smile and breathe away from the rather smelly animals.
And perhaps to find Henry. Like it or not, he kept invading my brain. The memory of his warm hand on my spine,steady and safe. That million-watt smile, which had gone from annoying to me, to filling me with butterflies.
The moment I spotted the orangery, something reached low inside me and tugged me toward it. Before I’d thought twice, my boots were crunching across the frosty gravel, my stomach flip-flopping with nerves. And excitement.
The greenhouse was thick with the scent of damp earth and the faint sweetness of whatever winter blooms Henry grew. Low light caught on leaves and cast diffused shadows on the red brick floor, and amongst all the foliage knelt Henry, snipping at forest green boughs and strapping them to willow strips that had been melded into a circle. Completed wreaths balanced around him, filled with deep red berries, pinecones and frosted-looking, furred leaves.
He didn’t glance up.
‘Good morning, Amanda.’
There were enough people in the manor that I wondered how he’d known it was me.
‘How did you know it was me?’
Henry’s eyes finally met mine, a smile lifting the corner of his mouth.
‘Your scent.’
I froze by the door. What did he mean by that? My perfume? I was pretty sure I didn’t stink.
‘What?’
‘I can tell when you’re in the room, or have just left a room. It’s a mixture of cocoa butter, the floral smell of your perfume, vanilla and rose, and underneath it all, the enchanting scent of you.’
Well. Fuck. He knew my scent. He acted like a golden retriever, but I didn’t expect him to have the nose of a bloodhound, too.
‘Do you tend to go around sniffing people?’
‘I can’t say I’ve ever noticed someone's scent before. But I can’t help but notice you, Amanda.’
The butterflies turned into great flapping seagulls in my stomach.
