I shake my head again and quickly walk away, fightingback tears. Beca might not be made for him, but how canIbe if I don’t want the only life he can offer me? I don’t fit in with the people who were at his parents’ fortieth – I don’twantto fit in with them. I’m a gardener, not a viscountess in the making, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I’ve only just found my feet. I worked so hard to get where I am, went through so much with my parents. There’s too much at stake if things sour between Ash and me. Not just my fragile mental state, because there’s no doubt that I’d be completely fucked if I had to go through anything like Madrid again, but my whole job would be in jeopardy. How could I possibly continue to work at Berkeley Hall if I couldn’t stand to be in Ash’s vicinity? I couldn’t. It’s too much of a risk.
He jogs to catch up with me. The outbuildings are up ahead, blocking our view of the cottages.
‘This is so complicated,’ I murmur.
‘It doesn’t have to be.’
‘We’re from different worlds.’
‘Come on.’ He sounds exasperated. ‘It’s not the Dark Ages.’
‘How could we possibly work?’ I ask him. It’s a reasonable question.
‘We just will,’ he says, halting behind the furniture workshop, which is as far as he can go without being seen.
‘You’re being idealistic.’ My tone is growing increasingly brittle.
He places his hands firmly on my biceps and stares down at me. ‘I’m not.’
‘Ash, you barely know me. Not really. I sure as hell don’t knowyouas well as I thought I did.’
‘Rubbish,’ he snaps. ‘You know everything about me that matters. And if I don’t know you as well as you want me to, then we’ll fix that.’
‘Why? So we can fall head over heels in love with each other and have our hearts broken again? We have no future. We can’t get married. We can’t have children. Not just because I’m a gardener and you’re the son of a viscount, but because I don’t want this life and I would never want my children to be born into it either!’
He gapes at me as my voice rises to a crescendo, his face paling with shock. I feel as though my heart has been through the sawmill.
‘We should stop this now before it’s too late,’ I say in a low, tortured voice.
We’re still staring at each other, so I see the exact moment that his expression clouds over.
That’s my cue to leave. But only a split second after I begin to walk away, he cuffs my wrist with his hand and my own momentum has me hurtling right back into his arms.
‘It’s already too late,’ he says roughly, his eyes blazing.
And then he releases my wrist to take my face in his hands and I stare at his blackening pupils and know that he’s right.
Our mouths crash together and he walks me backwards until I hit the workshop wall. Sensation flames inside me, full-body shivers rolling up and down my spine as his tongue parts my lips and presses against mine. My blood is molten, caramelised, and I’m kissing him back just as deeply, just as fervently. His hips pin me to the wall, his jeans rough against my bare legs. His hands dive inside his leather jacket that I’mstill wearing, gripping my waist, and mine are on his neck, his collar, his shoulders. His mouth breaks away from my lips to skate along my jaw and I’m staring at the sky, panting frantically and wanting him like I’ve never wanted anything or anyone. I’d have him right here, right now, if it wasn’t for the sound of Celyn shouting to someone nearby.
I scramble to push Ash away, my body flooding with cold air as I cock my ear towards the cottages.
Harri shouts something back – they’re just making plans for tonight.
I meet Ash’s eyes. His chest is heaving. Reaching out, I hook my finger through his belt buckle, tugging him closer. He moves his hands to my waist and I rest my chin on his shoulder as we stand there a moment, trying to recover.
‘Don’t overthink this,’ he says in a low, firm voice.
I lift my head to look at him. ‘How do you know I overthink things?’
‘I knowyou.’
His pupils have relaxed to allow some of the light brown to come through, but his eyes are serious.
I nod at him and he curves his fingers around the nape of my neck, pressing a soft kiss to my lips before sliding his hands over my shoulders and slipping his jacket off my arms. He releases me and backs up.
‘I’ll text you.’
