“Oh yeah?” I say, glancing at her. “Then why did he tell me if I do anything to risk your life, he’ll make sure your father finds out?”
She purses her lips together and makes a groaning sound. “Did he really? Well, I’ll have a little talk with him when we get back home.”
“Look at you being all tough.”
“I rediscovered my inner Furiosa when I was in Vienna and came back bound and determined not to letanyonetell me what to do ever again.”
“I’m impressed, Your Highness.” I say, squeezing her hand a little. I’m also thrilled, because if she’s in her ‘I’m a force to be reckoned with’ state of mind, she’s far more likely to agree to a) marrying me, and b)The World’s Best Survivor Challenge. I haven’t mentioned it yet because it seems like the kind of thing that requires exactly the right moment. Not that I don’t think she’ll want to come, because I’m sure she will. Although she may be a little irked to find out Dylan will be the showrunner on that one. Also, I’m not exactly sure if she’ll be excited to spend a month in Greenland in November. But, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.
Oh, I picked out the perfect ring, by the way. The moment I saw it, I just knew it was the one for her—it’s got a round brilliant-cut diamond with several smaller diamonds set in an engraved platinum band that is meant to invoke the beauty and flow of the Avonian Wild Fern. Currently, it is safely zipped into my shaving kit, waiting for the perfect opportunity to surprise her. I spot the sign for Half Moon Bay, and slow down to make a left turn, signalling far earlier than I normally would.
“I cannotwaitto get you to the beach house and get you naked,” Arabella says.
“Getmenaked? I’m going to be the one gettingyounaked.”
“I don’t think so, sir. I’ve had five lonely nights in my hotel room in Austria to come up with all kinds of things I want to do to you.”
“Really?” I asked, smiling down at her. “In that case, we might have to see if we can stay an extra couple of days.”
We reach the small village and wind our way through the tree-lined main street, and past all the quaint seaside homes. I try to relax and forget about the cars tailing us, but that seems about as likely as…well, something that’s not very likely.
“This is lovely,” Arabella says. “I’ve actually never been out this way if you can believe it. My friends used to come to Half Moon Bay to party when I was in uni, but I was never allowed to go.”
“Well, we’ll have to be especially wild then to make up for it.”
She grins at me, then turns to look out the window as we leave the village and continue on down toward the cove. The farther we are from town, the larger and more spread out the cabins and homes become. By the time we make our left turn onto Seaview Lane, I find myself feeling almost giddy with excitement. This is going to be one of the greatest nights of both of our lives.
“Do you think he might keep his Academy Award here?” she asks as we pull into the driveway of a large two-storey beach house with a wall of tall windows and a steep roof that peaks at the centre of the structure.
“I’d imagine he keeps it in his flat in London or some such,” I say. “But if it is here, we should take turns giving acceptance speeches.”
“Oh, yes! That sounds delightful. And we’ll finish them with ‘Kids, get to bed. It’s way past your bedtime,’” she says, pretending she’s holding an Oscar.
I laugh as I park the car, then take the keys out of the ignition just as Norm and Bellford pull up beside us. Oh, good. They found the place.
Pocketing the keys, I say, “Let’s go.”
Arabella shakes her head. “They’ll need a few minutes to check the house and secure the grounds,” she says, apologetically. “But as soon as that happens, we can pretend we’re completely alone.”
I smile and nod to hide my slight irritation. “I’ll give them the keys.”
* * *
“I can’t believe we didn’t even make it up the stairs,” I say, panting slightly. “You weren’t lying about getting my clothes off fast.”
She trails a finger down my bare chest and gives me a satisfied grin, looking thoroughly relaxed, even though we’re on the tile floor in the foyer of the house. “I can’t tell you how badly I needed that,” she says as we both stand and start picking up our clothes.
She tugs her wool dress over her head and pulls it down. “That sounded terrible, as though I meant it in the ‘I’m using you for sex’ sort of way, but in reality, I meant it in the ‘I really needed to feel close to you,’ sort of way.”
I pull my jeans up, then lean down and give her a lingering kiss. “Don’t worry. I always know what you’re thinking.”
“Really?” she asks, giving me a quick peck on the lips. “What am I thinking at this very moment?”
“That you would kill for some river fish and yam tubers,” I say with a grin.
She laughs. “How did you know?”
I slip my arms around her waist and pull her to me. Ah, having her pressed up against me again is the sweetest of relief. It’s enough to make me completely forget that I gave up a lucrative outdoor gear line. Kenneth who, right?
