“Well, no. I did go to St Paul’s for my last two years, but I was taught on set for most of my schooling.”
“By a private tutor? Speaking Latin and French and conjugating verbs.”
“Oui, je l'ai fait, je le fais, je le ferai.”
“I rest my case.” Jess smirked at him.
While he was distracted by his dinner, she took a moment to examine Nate’s face, trying to get a read on him. Who was this guy with his private school manners and actors’ charm?
He’d helped her today with research on set, been so great with Zara, bought her dinner, and now he was giving up the bed? Surely it was some kind of play, being sweet and thoughtful so he could get something from her. But maybe it was genuine?
A rush of attraction stirred within her, but she knew not to trust it. Her brain was dopamine-filled mush after the delivery.Any hot-blooded man feeding her and offering her a comfortable bed would look good right now. Still, the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them.
“We could share the bed. With a pillow wall between us, of course.” She knew it was misguided and probably sent the wrong message, but she couldn’t help feeling grateful for Nate’s presence today.
Nate froze mid-chew and swallowed hard. “Seriously?”
Too late to back out now. “Sure. Why not?”
“Only if you feel comfortable with that,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to make you feel pressured. I’m totally fine on the couch, honestly.”
Again with the gentlemanly manners. This guy was seriously something else.
“You stay on your side, I stay on mine and it’ll be just fine,” she said as another wave of tiredness hit. She stood and headed for the fridge to save her food for later. “I’ll change in there first, though. I’m well and truly done for the day. You can do what you like.”
Fighting to stay upright, Jess pulled an oversized shirt and pyjama pants out of her suitcase, stumbled into the only bedroom to change, and fell into bed.
NATE FINISHED HIS PLATE OF FOOD IN SILENCE, his mind racing. Should he take Jess up on her offer to share the bed?
If she didn’t look so much like Samantha, he probably wouldn’t be so conflicted, but what if he got confused in the night and woke up spooning her? It hadn’t been that long since Samantha, and his body memory of her was still strong. A mistake like that would be more than awkward. From what he’dlearned about Jess so far, the scenario would probably end with him cradling an injury of some kind. A broken nose or a knee to the groin.
The pillow wall would need to be a decent one. Spoon proof. The couch was certainly the safer option, but Jess was right: it wouldn’t make for a comfortable night’s sleep.
“When did you become this guy?” Nate scolded himself. So uncertain and confused, living an emotional rollercoaster. He knew exactly when, though. When he discovered his close friend and the woman he was going to marry weren’t the people he thought they were. That’s when.
It completely upended everything he thought he knew. Of course, it infuriated him—made him untrusting and withdrawn—but he also couldn’t shake the feeling that it was somehow his fault.
He’d worked such long hours in London and cancelled their plans constantly. In his last conversation with Samantha, before he found out about the affair, she was reminding him about their friends’ wedding that afternoon. He’d forgotten all about it.
“How could you forget something so important?” she’d asked him. “Will I have to remind you to attend your own wedding?”
He tried to say the right thing. Reassure her that forgetting didn’t mean he didn’t care and, of course, he wouldn’t forget his own wedding. The conversation smoothed things over, but just as he was putting on his suit, he was called back into work. He sat on the bed, tie half done, Samantha talking to him from the ensuite where she was finishing up her makeup. She sounded so excited about their evening he could barely bring himself to tell her.
Had he really expected Samantha to tolerate the interruptions, the long distance, all the waiting around for him? Building his career was something he thought of as important for both of them. For their future, but he’d let her down by not being there, and now….
He still had no idea how to process any of it. Blocking it all out, pushing it down, was the best strategy he’d found so far.
But Jess wasn’t Samantha. She was a stranger.
“Just two strangers sharing a bed,” he whispered to himself. That wasn’t weird at all. Nate pushed both hands through his hair in the stress response that had become more frequent recently.
Although, he mused, sharing a bed with a stranger fit with the ‘out of character’ theme. He’d never been a hookup kind of guy. Samantha had said something about it once. On their second date, after a long conversation late into the night, she’d told him he was someone designed to go deep. He’d worried she’d meant he was too serious, not fun enough, but she was right. He invested 100% into everything he did: long hours at work, making sure he was thorough; socially, he struggled to do light conversations about the weather; and in love, he was loyal and, once he fell in love, he fell hard.
Perhaps if he had been a more carefree kind of person, losing Samantha wouldn’t hurt so badly. Packing up and flying to New Zealand to be in a television series was the most carefree thing he’d ever done. At least it looked that way.
Nate shrugged. What would his character in the show do? Doctor Raynard would have no problem sharing a bed with a stranger. His television character would try to seduce her, in classic James Bond style, using his smooth English accent and charm to work his way into her arms. A true 1950s entitled man.
There was a lot to dislike about playing Raynard. He was meant to be slightly villainous, and after delivering certain sexist lines Nate often felt like washing his mouth out with soap, but at least it was different. A distraction.
