I narrow my eyes. ‘And would you be complaining?’
There’s that spark again. ‘Probably not.’
‘So what happened to you, Mr Markham, you’re suddenly very jokey?’ Flirty would be a better word, but I’m not saying it.
He twitches his lips. ‘I just walked away from my responsibilities for a day, it feels like playtime.’
Fuck. First my stomach leaves my body then it hits me, the trouble I could be in here. ‘So definitely without pineapple then?’
He frowns as if he’s puzzled. ‘Is that code for a kink then … like vanilla?’
‘No, Bill, nothing so exciting.’ When I look into his eyes they’re dark brown with tiny yellow flecks. ‘I’m talking about pizza toppings.’
He smashes his hand on his head. ‘Oh crap. Country boy coming back to the city, I’m way out of my depth here. Maybe we better had go and get them then.’
Pizza, garlic bread and cheesy chips on the sofa, bottles of Peroni,Love Actuallyon DVD, thenBreakfast at Tiffany’s. Why ever did I think this was going to be hard? So long as I keep two cushions between us, however irresistible his thighs look with the jeans stretched tight over them, I’m pretty confident – so long as I sit on my hands I’m not going to grab him unexpectedly. Now I’ve got over the immediate emotional stress of him being here, I’m starting to enjoy it more. Soak it all in. Savour the tiny electric charges of excitement zithering up and down my spine. The whole unexpected, delicious indulgence of it all. What an amazing treat it is.
It’s all going really, really well. And then I reach into my bag to get my sparkly cashmere jumper to put over my knees, and as I pull it out a big sprig of mistletoe flops out onto the coffee table with it.
‘Shit, where the hell did that come from? I swear it wasn’t me who put it in there.’
Bill smiles. ‘I know, I got one too, it was Willow.’ He stretches down and pulls a twist of stem and crushed leaves out of the front pocket of his jeans. ‘She told me, a sprig on your person will make sure you get good luck, protection and fertility.’
Willow was going straight for the target there then with his front jeans pocket, but I’m not going to say that.
‘How does it work if it’s in your bag not your pocket?’
He seems to find that funny, because there are crinkles at the corners of his eyes. ‘I’d guess it’ll still do the job or she wouldn’t have bothered to put it in there.’ He gets up, grabs a handful from the table and heads for the door. ‘Alternatively, you can hang it in doorways, like this.’ He fiddles for a moment, picks a pin off the pinboard and then it’s there. Dangling in the air. Tantalising and very dangerous. ‘Still giving good luck, but also handy for when you’re walking past.’
‘Great, thanks for that.’
‘Kissing underneath it is also good. You probably know that already though.’ He raises an eyebrow, turns, and holds out his hand to me. ‘Maybe you should come and try it out?’
‘Totally not.’ He’s already pulled me to my feet. That’s the trouble with tiny rooms, everything’s so easy to reach. If we’d touched lips on the sofa it would probably still have counted.
‘So what’s the problem, Star-girl? There’s stars on the ceiling and it’s light enough for me to look at you.’
‘Arrrgghhh …’
He ignores my groan, and spins me round to face him. ‘It’s true, you are so like Audrey, but you’re so much more beautiful because you’re real and more kick-ass, and so much more special and unique because you’re you.’
I’m dragging in that scent, his warmth, the smell of worn denim. Taking in the strength of his body, how wonderfully vital and alive and realheis. I let out another squawk. ‘Hair! Oh my, it’s days since I washed it, because of the broken boiler.’
As he looks down at me his eyes go darker, and his finger lands on my lips. ‘Shhh, Ivy-star … we’ve got one night all on our own … there’s no need to panic … let’s just see where it takes us.’
I’m buying time. ‘Do you mind the other people at the castle?’
He laughs. ‘With Taffeta and Tulle lurking round every corner giving me side eye or trying to grill me about my taste in girlfriends and Libby glued to her phone sitting on my pillow there’s not too much opportunity for privacy.’
I don’t take any notice of Merwyn as he opens one eye on the rug and catches mine. But I have to protest because even without my spoiled face I’m not the kind of woman Bill would choose. He’s completely out of my league. ‘I really don’t want to be your one night stand.’
Even as I say it, my finger has landed on the button of his shirt on his sternum. And I know I’m totally and utterly lying here. I wouldn’t even ask for a whole night, I’d happily settle for half an hour. Five minutes even. My whole body is thrumming with anticipation. I’ve thought about how this would feel for so long. And now for some completely unknown stroke of luck, it’s been handed to me. All I have to do is let myself accept, and go for it. Grab five minutes to last me the rest of my life.
‘That’s totally ridiculous, Ivy, why would you think that?’
‘B-b-b-e-c-ause …’ There are so many reasons it’s pointless even beginning.
My palms are on his chest now, and he’s looking down on me. Gently brushing aside the hair that’s hanging across my eye. Looping it back with his finger. He’s looking, just looking. Swallowing. So close I can feel his breath on my cheek, see the pin pricks of the pores, each spike of stubble. Then he lowers his face towards my forehead, and I feel his lips featherlight on my skin. As they brush across the twists of thin scarred tissue I shiver.
‘Are you okay with that?’ His voice is very low as his fingers barely trace a line along my cut, and his eyes are amazingly tender and soft as he looks down. ‘This is part of who you are, always remember, it’s every bit as beautiful as the rest of you.’
And even if it isn’t true, my insides are melting because he’s thought to say the words at all – my heart is bursting with gratitude because he wants to reassure me. Then my hands are reaching up, sliding round the back of his head, I’m tugging my fingers through his hair. As I close my fingers on his scalp, his head is warm, I’m pulling his lips down towards mine, hearing the thud of his heart against his ribs.
The fairy lights on the tree blur as my eyes go out of focus, and as the room starts to spin, for the first time since the accident, the past is going hazy too. There’s a fleeting moment when I think about the future enough to remember I don’t have any condoms. Then I push that away too and all that matters is being here in this moment, his mouth colliding with mine. How amazingly hot and soft and sweet it is, how he tastes of starlight and chocolate. How fast the room is spinning. How very right it feels, how it’s so amazing I want to climb inside him. And a long time later when my lips finally slide away from his as I clasp my hand to my mouth it feels like I’ve lost a part of myself.
‘Not so bad then, Ivy-star?’
All I can manage is to moan for more. And as I press my hips hard against him, and I crash my mouth onto his all over again my whole body explodes.
