“They’d either think I was joking, or they’d want me to pull out the welded-in replica of Excalibur,” he said. “I have fun messing with them in other ways. Depending on who’s in each group, I either go for the romance angle or the blood and guts and gore of the Battle of Camlann. And when there are kids, they get the good stuff—the way eels were used for currency or the medicinal benefits of swallowing a live buttered spider.”
I eyed him with suspicion. “I hope you’re making that up.”
“So do I,” Sheila said, wiping down the table next to us. “Can you keep your spicy Jane Austen conversation down a bit in future, lovelies? Not everyone is as easily amused as I am, and I’d hate to lose my Chamber of Commerce star rating because people thought I was disrespectful to our most famous resident. Now, another teacake for you both?”
Alex’s eyes brimmed with laughter, and I wanted to kiss him. It was a longing that I was feeling increasingly often. Somehow, the fact I wasn’t making headway on Bim’s investigation had ceased to matter.
We went flying whenever we could get away with missing supper. Or rather, I would fly and then join Alex in the water. I didn’t know why he was intent on swimming rather than flying, but I was growing to love it, too. Dragons are huge, and something aboutbeing weightless in that form was addictive. Or perhaps it was swimming with Alex that was addictive.
I had deleted the tracking app from my phone a couple of days after the incident with the Ferrari. In the vanishingly unlikely event it had been hacked, I hoped the deletion would look like an innocent quest for more space. It was marginally less suspicious than forgetting my phone each time we went to the river. And I wasn’t going to stop going to the river with Alex, not for anything.
It wasn’t only swimming we did there. His touches, his kisses, the look in his eyes as he teased me…
My meandering thoughts came to an abrupt halt as panicky realisation dawned. I’d fallen for him. It wasn’t just that I liked him and we had great sex. I’d gone and bloody well fallen for him.
I couldn’t do this again. Being in love had almost destroyed me before. But when I thought about stopping it, no longer having those moments with Alex of desperate need and bliss, of ease and laughter, I couldn’t. I was too far gone.
The only thing I could do was hide my feelings. I’d managed the friends-with-excellent-benefits arrangement so far without any problems. As long as I didn’t show how much more I wanted from him, it would be okay. He wouldn’t see me for who I was.
And that meant we could continue to have this. I could continue to havehim,each moment with him a memory to lock away against a cold and empty future.
Chapter Sixteen
NATE
I hadn’t seen Charlie since I’d told him where to go. On Saturday evening, he put his head around my bedroom door when I was changing for yet another party the Fortescues were hosting.
He whistled. “Looking sharp, Mort.”
I wouldn’t go that far. The dress code was semi-formal, so I’d chosen a black suit with a white shirt that I’d left open at the neck. The casual style of the shirt removed the need for cufflinks. I hoped that was formal enough to please the Fortescues and informal enough not to make the Teagues feel awkward.
“You’re not coming?” I asked, taking in what he was wearing. His black jeans were eye-wateringly tight, and a cut-off purple tank top strained across his chest.
“God, no. You up for some fun?”
It was as if our previous conversation hadn’t happened. “Your parents invited me tonight, and as I’m their guest—”
“You’re thirty, not sixty. Get out and have some fun again.” He sashayed over to me, a move I’d seen him use to devastate whole ranks of guys at a club. I’d loved it back then because he’d always gone home with me. Or so I’d thought. “Come on, Nate,” he coaxed, fixing my collar and brushing back my hair. “It’ll be like it used to be—just you and me.”
I stepped away. “Sorry, Charlie. I told your parents I’d be there.” I couldn’t risk putting James offside in case he evicted me. And, with a sense of shock, I realised I didn’twanta night of clubbing. For the first time in my life, it sounded boring. I’d rather be drinking coffee and watching the way Alex’s eyes glinted with humour as he shared yet more outrageous facts that he’d dug out of the depths of the internet.
“Suit yourself.” Charlie’s face closed down, and he turned on his heel and left.
It was an effort not to go after him, to call his name and try to placate him. That made me realise what an ingrained habit it had been.
I turned back to the mirror and rearranged my collar and hair to how they had looked before Charlie started fiddling. James Fortescue had made a point of inviting me personally to this evening’s event, and I didn’t know why. I had to be on my guard.
ALEX
It was only five minutes’ walk from the Fortescues’ to the Assembly Rooms, and it would have been half that if most of the women hadn’t been wearing high heels. The outside of the building looked like a small but beautiful Greek temple. Inside was even more impressive, and I realised why they’d goneto so much trouble dressing up. The place looked like it was a film set for a Jane Austen adaptation, with chandeliers, columns and a balcony.
The whole thing was formal as hell, and I ran my finger around the inside of my collar. Wearing a tie always felt like I was being strangled, but I was glad I’d worn one tonight—at least I wouldn’t look completely out of place. Looking out of place hadn’t bothered me up until now. It was the possibility of Nate thinking I was a country bumpkin that was eating at me.
A silver tray with champagne flutes appeared under my nose. A tired-looking woman whose name badge proclaimed her to be Denise was offering them determinedly enough to suggest she’d been trying to get my attention for a while. I gave her an apologetic smile as I took a glass. At this rate, I wouldn’t want to drink anything but the finest fizz in future.
I made the rounds, chatting to people. The whole time, I was looking for one person. When I saw him, I stopped dead, unable to breathe. He looked—God, he looked like he should be on a red carpet somewhere, as if stylists and make-up artists had spent hours creating the perfect man. His suit was elegant and sexy, and it fitted as though it had been made for him, emphasising everything I loved about his body—his height, his broad shoulders and strong thighs.
He was talking to James and Anna Fortescue, and as I watched, he laughed, his hair gleaming in the light thrown by multiple chandeliers, the brown column of his throat framed by his open shirt collar. One hand was carelessly in his trouser pocket, showing the watch on his wrist.
