‘But what about the castle?’
I’m off today. I’m simply looking for any excuse not to go on a day trip with Ryan-Runaway-Cooper.
It was hard enough to get over him the first time round. He’s barely been back two weeks and I already know when he leaves again it will crush me. Spending time with him certainly won’t help the situation. Yet, the way my body screams at me, I know I’ll do it anyway.
‘I have everything under control. Go get ready. Put something warm on.’ She ushers me towards my bedroom while Ryan watches on from the couch.
‘Conor’s cousin’s band’s coming tomorrow night to talk about the ball.’
‘You’ll be back later tonight, don’t sweat it,’ Ryan promises through a mouthful of pastry.
I never realised it was possible to be jealous of a Danish until this very second, but the way his tongue licks it from his lips has me infuriatingly envious.
‘Fine.’ I stalk off to get ready under the pretence of reluctance.
I’m not kidding anyone.
Least of all myself.
***
‘Holy fucking shit, I can’t believe we’re in a helicopter,’ Victoria shrieks over the noise of the blades and the engine.
‘Language,’ I remind her and she sticks out her tongue.
Ryan squeezes my leg through my leather trousers as he glances sideways from his seat adjacent to mine.
He’s bringing us to London. To the Winter Wonderland. He’s made Victoria’s year, and mine. Who knew the power and influence being a superstar held? I feel a million miles away from Huxley Castle and all the responsibilities that go with it.
The view over London is incredible. The Thames. The London Eye. The Christmas trees. The lights. The hustle and bustle. Even the manic traffic swarming below appears beautiful from this height.
Mind you, the view inside isn’t too bad either. Despite my best efforts, Ryan’s caught me staring at him multiple times. I’m only human. The guy is a rockstar. Panty-melting hot. And my first and so far, only love. And for some reason, he’s acting as though he’s enamoured with me.
I’ve never been great with heights, but the butterflies swirling in my stomach have nothing to do with the flight and everything to do with the hand that rests on my thigh.
Victoria sits behind us with Pierce, Frankie and Archie, more of Ryan’s security. They’re three huge, intimidating-looking men, yet they are fawning over Vic as though she’s their own daughter and she’s lapping up the attention.
With every passing day the child I raised is becoming more of a woman.
Twenty minutes later the pilot eases us into a gentle landing on a helipad atop a building I don’t recognise. We take a mirrored elevator forty floors down, the six of us squashed together with Victoria giggling in the centre. Ryan’s back is to the wall. His front’s pressed to my back. I’m left under no illusion how he feels about this unexpected cosy confinement.
A tight bulge presses against my backside in a way that makes my body burn in all the right places. With the subtlest flick of my hips, I push back against him before pulling away again. The resounding sigh that follows sends heat searing through me, and a grin settles on my lips.
Ha. Mr Eligible Bachelor is as human as the rest of us.
A couple of minutes brisk walk sees us at a side entrance to Hyde Park, to the Winter Wonderland. This must be specifically reserved for VIPs because it’s heavily staffed with security guards.
Pierce pulls out a grey beanie hat and passes it to Ryan, his eyes darting round our immediate vicinity, and I gather it’s not to keep him warm.
‘Me and Frankie will flank you. Archie will stroll with Victoria,’ Pierce says, the voice of authority. ‘No one knows you’re here – everyone thinks you’re holed up in an Irish castle – if we could keep it that way, it’d make my job a lot easier.’
Ryan nods and offers me his arm. Archie follows suit, taking Victoria’s next to us.
‘If anyone gets lost, or if there’s a situation, meet back here at this gate and the security team will put you in an SUV until the situation’s resolved. Is everybody clear?’
‘Yes, boss.’ Ryan nods, solemn for once, and I get the impression his safety’s been jeopardised more than once. It’s not something I’d ever considered when I imagined him living the good life in LA, not that I spent a lot of time thinking about it. Much.
We take off, strolling through the bustle of the Christmas markets. Twinkling multi-coloured lights glint and flicker but today, hanging off Ryan’s reassuring arm, they don’t bother me.
