“I thought you’d still be in your meeting with Michael,” Sebastian said, pressing his hand in the small of Helen’s back. “This is Cassie. Cassie meet Brenda, the campaign manager.”
Helen shook the scary lady’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“We were just heading out for a walk before dinner,” Sebastian added.
“In that case, I’m glad I caught you. Michael said he and Evie will see you both in the restaurant at six.” Brenda smiled, turning to Helen with an assessing gaze. “Sebastian tells me you write poetry.”
“Yes.”Oh, god. “Yes, I do.” Helen’s head pounded.
“There’s a reporter downstairs,” Sebastian said. “Gary Grice. He took a photo of us just now, but I told him to hold off posting it anywhere until he spoke to you.”
“Who does he work for?” Brenda asked.
“Says he’s freelance.”
“I’ll look him up.” Again, Brenda turned her attention to Helen, but before she could speak, Sebastian bid her a cheerful goodbye, swiped open a door and nudged Helen through it.
“We’ll wait here a couple minutes to make sure she’s gone, then we’ll head out.” He stepped toward a neatly-made, king-sized double bed. “I’ll change out of this shirt, then we’ll go.”
Helen blinked. She was inhishotel room.
Sebastian took off his jacket, revealing a short-sleeved shirt that showed off his swimmer’s shoulders, impressive, rounded biceps, long, corded forearms, and pecs like two iron slabs.
Crikey.
Scrabbling for something to say, Helen focused on the big black suitcase next to his bed. “So, how long will you be in England for?”
“Three months.”
“And you’ll be living here, in this hotel, all that time?”Just so I know never to meet Liz here again.
“Actually, I’m kinda hoping to rent a house someplace else. I think I’ll go crazy otherwise.”
“Yeah, living in luxury has that effect on me too.”
The corners of Sebastian’s mouth kicked up, the glint of amusement in his eyes. A genuine smile this time, and it pleased her to see it.
“I’ve been staring at the water for hours just itching to dive in.” Sebastian nodded toward the window.
Helen followed his gaze to the view of Bristol’s waterside below, the Pavilion, and Millennium Square beyond.
Sebastian chatted about all the places he was keen to see while he worked in the city—the Clifton Suspension Bridge, the Christmas Steps and St. Nicholas Market—and slightly further afield to Glastonbury, Stonehenge and the Devonshire coast.
All these sights sounded so exciting and vibrant through a foreigner’s eyes, and in her far from sober state, Helen imagined taking Sebastian on a tour of the countryside where she lived. The fields full of apple trees, the meadows rich with wildflowers, the lake, and the river that meandered close by. Thinking about it all now gave her a deep sense of belonging and longing—and a desperate craving to be home.
What was she doing here?
Ready to tell Sebastian the truth so she could leave, Helen whirled around to face him—and froze at the sight of his bare back. Muscles rippled as he pulled a T-shirt over his head. She turned to the window again, nearly smashing her face against the glass in her newfound fascination with the seagulls that bobbed on the water below.
“You ready?” Sebastian asked.
She nodded like a moron then got a grip on her thirsty libido. “What if our friend Grice is still downstairs? Will he want another photo?”
Sebastian shrugged. “We can hang out here if you prefer?”
“No!”There wasn’t enough air in here.“Let’s go.” It would be better to tell him the truth outside anyway so she could slip into the city crowds without a trace afterward.
But how would he react when she told him?
