Better and better.
“As you wish, darling,” Ned murmured.
They finished dinner.
Everyone helped clear the table, but the men put the food away, stacked and soaked.
They had digestifs and Ned annihilated them at the game.
And it didn’t seem possible after that dinner, but it was true.
Blake’s vanilla cake was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
Chapter 8
Pistachio Muffins
Dair
* * *
Dair woke to rays of sunshine streaming into a bedroom with walls that were almost entirely windows.
He turned onto his side in a bed that was empty, save him, and commandeered a pillow, holding it to his chest as he looked at the sun streaming through the trees.
And, aye.
He could absolutely live here.
The end of the evening before had not gone as he’d planned.
More drinks were consumed. Blake got competitive and demanded another game of Ticket to Ride (Ned won again). For some reason, this led to the women clustering around Blake’s iPad looking at clothes while Ned and Dair shared a whisky. It got late. Ned suggested they stay the night rather than heading home at that hour on winding, dark, mountain roads after many beverages had been consumed.
Conveniently, they had three open guest bedrooms.
His mother accepted for the lot of them.
Therefore, Dair didn’t get to take Blake back to his hotel room so they could chat and whatever else he could get up to with her in a hotel room. With the others around, he didn’t get to have that chat at all.
He preferred waking up to Blake’s warm, soft body covering him, but he’d take that view and knowing she was in the same house…for now.
He threw the covers back and went to the bathroom.
He’d discovered last night that the guestrooms were as spectacular as the rest of the house, and not just the ever-present view.
Blake had done those as well, obviously.
Even though the rooms were large, the décor was darker to give more of a cocoon-like feel, which Dair thought was a stroke of brilliance. His room was on the rustic side. And another Blake touch, the bathrooms were kitted with everything you might need. New toothbrushes, toothpaste, toiletries for men and women.
Dair availed himself of some of that, particularly the dental hygiene. But he saw a bunch of Kiehl’s stuff for men and decided to give it a go. The facewash smelled of menthol, which was a nice wakeup call. Paired with the moisture shite after it, he found he liked it.
He’d slept in his boxers, so he tugged on his jeans, shrugged on his shirt and buttoned it up but tucked his socks into his shoes, took them with him down the stairs after he tidied the bed and set them by the door.
His nose, which smelled something stupendous baking, along with the scent of cooked bacon, led him to the kitchen.
He stopped dead while entering it.
This was because Blake, his Blake, Blake Sharp, heiress to the Marchioness of Norton title, heiress to the Bernard-Sharp fortune, was standing at the sink wearing a loose-fitting white shirt with wee sleeves, and a pair of white pajama pants with huge red hearts on them.
