Five minutes later, the bedroom door opened, and Victoria slipped inside, locking it behind her with deliberate care.
"Headache?" Victoria's smile was dangerous.
"Terrible one," Sasha said, backing toward the bed. "Might need someone to take my mind off it."
"I think I can help with that." Victoria crossed the room in three strides, and Sasha found herself pulled into a kiss that made her knees weak yet again.
They tumbled onto the bed, hands already working at buttons and zips with increasing urgency. Last night had been about release, about finally giving in to days of tension. Tonight was different, slower, more deliberate, learning each other properly without the desperate edge.
Victoria's mouth traced patterns across Sasha's skin, pausing to bite and kiss and taste until Sasha was trembling beneath her. When Victoria settled between her thighs, Sasha had tobite down on her own hand to muffle the sounds threatening to escape.
"Quiet," Victoria murmured against sensitive skin, and Sasha could feel her smile. "Can’t have everyone knowing our little secret."
Sasha’s insides turned molten. Secrets, secrets, there were so many of them in this house. But she couldn’t bring herself to care about them. Not as Victoria’s tongue started to lap at her, not as her stomach started to clench, not as her hips started to rise and her blood started to pound.
Later, when they lay together, Sasha's head on Victoria's shoulder and Victoria's fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back, Sasha felt something settle in her chest that had nothing to do with sexual satisfaction and everything to do with the terrifying realization that this was becoming significantly more than just a summer fling.
Now just when in the hell had that happened?
Chapter Twenty
The email pinged through just as Victoria was pretending to listen to Archie explain why his latest girlfriend's ideas for the estate were "something that should be seriously considered." Why all his girlfriends needed opinions on the estate was something that she was unclear about. Perhaps because Archie was trying to sculpt them so desperately into wife material. She looked at her phone.
Subject: Interview Request - Senior Investment Manager Position
She took a deep breath. Richmond Brothers. One of the top firms in the City. Exactly the sort of position she'd been hoping for when this whole nightmare started.
Dear Ms. Sullivan, We were impressed by your credentials and would like to invite you for an in-person interview at our London offices…
She should be thrilled. She was thrilled. This was it, her way back, her chance to rebuild everything that had collapsed. Proof that she wasn't washed up at thirty-one, that redundancy wasn't the end of her career. That she could continue her career path just as before.
So why was she feeling oh-so-slightly hollow about the whole thing? That made no sense at all.
"—and Cassandra thinks we could really modernize the grounds," Archie was saying, gesturing enthusiastically. "Make them more functional for contemporary use."
Victoria looked up from her phone to find Archie's latest acquisition holding forth in front of the mantlepiece. Cassandra was tall, blonde, and possessed of the sort of confident horsey energy that came from a lifetime of expensive riding lessons. She was also, Victoria noted with growing irritation, completely ignoring Cathy, who stood by the door shaking her head and looking like she’d rather not have been roped into this conversation at all.
"The south lawn would be perfect for a show-jumping ring," Cassandra continued. "We could host events, competitions. Really put the estate on the map for the equestrian set."
Lady Charlotte's teacup paused halfway to her lips. "The south lawn has been maintained as ornamental gardens for two hundred years."
"Exactly! So traditional. But think of the opportunities." Cassandra pulled out her phone, swiping through images with manicured fingers. "I know this amazing contractor who specializes in competition-grade surfaces. We could have something world-class here."
Sir Archibald lowered his newspaper and glared, but apparently didn’t trust himself enough to speak.
"Actually," Cathy said quietly, "the south lawn's drainage isn't suitable for that sort of heavy use. The water table's too high. We'd need extensive groundwork that would destroy the root systems of the mature trees."
Cassandra waved this away. "I'm sure we could work around that."
"We couldn't," Cathy said, her voice still professional but with an edge. "The oaks are over three hundred years old. They're part of a protected woodland corridor."
"Then we'll move them."
The silence that followed was slightly longer than was comfortable.
"Move them?" Sir Archibald's voice was dangerously quiet.
"Well, yes. There are companies that relocate mature trees all the time. Very modern approach." Cassandra smiled brightly. "And honestly, they're blocking the best sight lines for the jumping course anyway."
