‘And there’s nothing else I need to know about your personal situation?’
Boring holes into his soul, I willed him to bring up his ex. I just needed to know. I just needed to hear him say it.
Callum stopped in front of a dark wood door and turned the brass doorknob.
‘This is your room,’ he said, opening the door and changing the subject. ‘After you.’
‘I’m not leaving,’ I replied, changing it right back as I sailed blindly into the bedroom. ‘If there’s anythingelse you want to tell me, you can. Professionally speaking, it’s always better to disclose all information, get everything out on the table up front so we can address everything head on and oh my God look at this place.’
It was a haven. Soft cream rugs on top of dark floorboards, delicate floral wallpaper and exquisite pieces of antique furniture, all arranged around the four-poster canopy bed and a tiled fireplace that was already lit. The flames danced, crackling happily, and filling the room with the most welcoming glow.
‘I’m definitely not leaving,’ I declared as I took off my coat and hung it carefully on the coat rack by the door. ‘I mean I’m not leaving ever. Tell your mum I’m moving in, I’ll have Desi send on my things.’
Outside the enormous bay windows, I had an unobstructed view of the garden, a neatly kept lawn, dotted with trees and lined with flowerbeds, and beyond that, as breathtaking a sight as you could ever hope to see. A still and steady body of water, reflecting the December sky as it wended its way out of sight to the north and the south. I felt as though I’d wandered into a fantasy novel. Balmaclay was the last home at the end of the world and I was a lost girl in an unknown realm, trapped with a mysterious stranger.
‘Have you ever read a book calledA Court of Thorns and Roses?’ I asked Callum, glimpsing his dark hair, brooding eyes and broad shoulders out of the corner of my eye.
‘No?’
‘Then never mind,’ I replied, putting unhelpful thoughts out of my mind. ‘This is all so beautiful.’
‘I suppose. I imagine you’d feel different if you’dspent nineteen years here, dying to get away. To me it feels like a trap.’
‘A trap with snacks,’ I said, pointing at a tray on the bedside table stacked with Tunnock’s Teacakes. Anything I’d ever thought about Lizzie McClay before this moment was completely reversed, she was my favourite person in the entire world.
‘I wouldn’t fill up if I were you, they don’t know the meaning of a light lunch here.’
‘Fill up? What is this completely foreign concept?’
The corners of Callum’s eyes crinkled with a smile.
‘I’m glad you like Balmaclay. The whole place has me feeling claustrophobic.’
‘Then you must be out of your mind,’ I said. ‘because it’s literally massive.’
‘Is that your professional opinion?’
‘I’m training to be a neurosurgeon, not a psychiatrist,’ I reminded him as I tore into a teacake. ‘And I’m officially off the clock this week. Please only come to me with massage-related enquiries and don’t go out of your way to bother with those because I’ve never given a massage in my life.’
‘Never?’ He looked surprised.
Through a mouthful of chocolatey goodness, I scrunched up my face and shrugged.
‘Doesn’t come up much during brain surgery.’
‘I’d hope not. But not even … in your personal life?’
The subtext slowly became text.
‘I’m not really a personal massage kind of girl,’ I said, my words stilted. ‘That seems like more of a relationship thing.’
‘And that’s bad because?’
‘Because I don’t have time for relationships,’ I replied,very ready to end the conversation. ‘Sorry, what time do you think food will be ready?’
Tearing curious eyes from my scarlet face, Callum checked the time on his phone.
‘Knowing Mum, I’m sure it was ready the minute we walked through the door. How long do you need?’
