Her eyes filled with tears, which she blinked back. She could never be a wife – she could barely manage her own life. Living in a grand house with a man called Castle was a pipe dream and fake marriage was a pretence she couldn’t keep up with.
She took off her smeared apron and hooked it over the back of a chair. ‘I’m a sap, aren’t I? I’m throwing in the towel as we both know I’m failing,’ she said, her bottom lip wobbling. ‘I can’t seem to behave appropriately as a millionaire’s wife, even if it is all pretend. I wrecked the cake, and I might as well have poured your nice wine down the drain. I can’t exactly decant it back out again. Well, I could, but it’d taste of bay leaf and beef. Also, it’s had hours of cooking, and we’d probably have to strain out the sinew.’
He folded his arms and studied her, like he’d never heard anyone confess to a personality disorder while turning free-range eggs into terrible icing and good wine into a casserole. Then, surprisingly, he took her hand.
‘For one thing, I’m not a millionaire,’ he said, making soothing circles in her palm. ‘And if I was, I wouldn’t be a very aspirational one as I have no rich friends, don’t have a champagne lifestyle and have never wanted a yacht. I did a paper round formonths to save up for my first windsurf board which I then used for a decade or more.’
‘Sophie said—’
‘Sophie makes stuff up. You are not a sap. You have busted your ass pulling weeds all week up at that big house, and don’t think I haven’t noticed the progress you are making on the land around the hut. Plus, you’ve been working really hard with me on being a convincing couple, as well as sorting out an exceptional menu for tonight.’ He put a finger into the buttercream around the cake and licked it, as she swiped at his hand. ‘That tastes OK but, if you need more eggs, I can pop into town for them. And if the food sucks and the councillor chokes on cheap plonk, then at least we tried.’
A wave of gratefulness flooded though her. She knew Justin would have had a meltdown over something like this. He had been precise to the point of pedantic and used to criticise her sloppiness all the time. It was so clear to her now that he was never what she wanted. She’d rather eat Tiger’s food than make dinner for him again.
‘I’ll have another go at the icing,’ she said, her head in the fridge scouting for ingredients. ‘Oh, and you have loads of eggs.’
When she heard the front door slam, she concluded he mustn’t have heard her. That was fine – if he picked up some more, she could make omelettes for breakfast tomorrow. She nipped into the garage and grabbed one of the empty bottles, heading back into the kitchen to compare it with a full one. Well, the labels were a similar colour, and the name wasn’t that different, she thought, as she took a closer look, accidentallysplashing wine down her front. Cursing loudly and wishing she hadn’t discarded the apron so soon, she wiped at her favourite top with her fingers and then a cloth. Then, knowing Nic was out getting eggs, she stripped down, popped her clothes in the washing machine and ran for the bathroom. Grabbing a handful of Nic’s products from the cabinet, she turned on the shower and walked into the waterfall. Aria scrubbed herself clean with his sumptuous soap, and coated her hair in his creamy shampoo and conditioner before stepping out and looking around for a bath towel.
‘Damn.’ He’d either used them already or Sophie had furnished the room exclusively with hand towels.Would anything go right today?Aria tentatively picked one from the rail. Next to her generous body, she was essentially left with a flannel. Using creative licence, she positioned the small towel across her chest, clamping it in place with her armpits. Next, she held a second towel below it with her palm. If she moved too fast, she’d feel a draft, but with a bit of luck she’d be back in her own bedroom in two seconds. Unlocking the bathroom door, Aria peered out to see if the coast was clear. She carefully placed one wet foot in front of the other as she left the bathroom – the last thing she needed was a fall. As the door swung closed behind her, Tiger scampered around the corner following a biscuit that bounced onto the wood floor.Oh God, no. Someone had thrown that treat. Someone close by. Someone she could now hear speaking into his phone.
‘No, no, no,’ she whispered, willing the dog to turn around and go back in the direction he came in. She quietly shooed him away as he gobbled up the biscuit. Another one appearedand he bounded for it, bringing Nic’s voice closer. A further doggy treat skidded into the wall and dropped to the floor. Adjusting the towelling on her boobs, she stood dithering like an escaped sheep before taking a step backwards, feeling the cold wood on her buttocks, which highlighted the inadequate cover on her bum. Realising the corridor to her bedroom would be blocked at any moment, she concluded she had to go headlong into Nic or back into the bathroom. Wiggling her back against the handle, Aria attempted to pull it down without letting go of the towels. When this didn’t work, and the steps grew closer, she spread one hand across both as she reached for the handle.
‘We’re definitely not about asset-stripping—’ Nic turned the corner, leaving the person at the other end of the line hanging. His eyes widened, making her worried that the upper towel had gone astray. His hand tightened on his phone as his eyes darted to her chest and his voice went up a notch. ‘Can I reassure you we’re not about plundering or pillaging in any way…’ When she yanked the towel back up a little to make sure there was some boob coverage, she felt a light breeze between her legs. She didn’t look down to see what her shifted grip on the lower towel had exposed. The answer was all over his face. ‘We are not that kind of…’ He paused again mid-sentence, his shocked gaze flitting to the apex of her thighs.
‘…girl,’ she whispered, closing her eyes and hoping she would wake from this bad dream. She bent her body slightly, encouraging the towel down her thighs and praying her nipples were still concealed. His Adam’s apple bobbed in histhroat, and he didn’t seem to know where to look, which told her she was definitely boobs-akimbo. There was a stalemate for a moment, before he backed himself against the hall wall to let her pass, which she did sideways like a crab, holding on to as much cloth in as many places as she could.
‘So, we will not be taking advantage of the situation,’ he finished, the catch in his voice accentuating his lack of conviction.
32
Nic wanted more than anything to take advantage of the situation. One quick flash told him she had tits that defied physics. And the pale skin of her thighs made him want to kneel on the floor, rip the towel away and devour her. He should have taken more serious measures to avoid her after the swim a fortnight ago, but instead he’d invited her to share his home. Good job, Nico! He stayed pressed against the wall for a few seconds, hearing a man he didn’t care for continue a conversation he didn’t care about. It wasn’t only her magnificent body and lack of clothes messing with his head, his other senses were being overstimulated too. What was that perfume? It felt both familiar and comforting, like coming home. Opening the door of the bathroom, it took him moments to scan the cabinet and realise his deodorant had been moved. He sniffed to confirm the scent. As he glanced down, he noticed Tiger had followed him in.
‘Hey Tiger, what just happened there? I went outside to look for the salami in my car, answered a call on the way in, and ran headlong into Aria, cheeks aflame, trying to cover up her nakedness with two small towels. She must have felt veryexposed. Would knocking on her door and talking about it make her feel even worse?’ Something told him it would, while the dog offered no help at all. ‘What can I do, then?’ He knew Aria by now. The girl would be mortified. He needed to share the embarrassment ahead of tonight, so it didn’t remain an issue. Thinking hard, he strode down the corridor and picked up the cheap wine. Had Aria been drinking already? Earlier, he’d considered binning it and opening some more from his rack. But, while he wanted to woo the councillor, he knew from her reputation she was an odious woman. And he’d already wasted a ton of money on wining and dining the guys from planning.
‘Wouldn’t it be fun to fill the councillor with fake fine wine while introducing my fake fiancée?’ he said out loud. ‘And at the same time rectifying the streaker situation.’ The apron Aria had discarded earlier was hooked on a chair. He picked it up and unfolded it. At some post-conference drinks a while back, the waiters served champagne in the buff apart from aprons. It was all a bit tasteless, but the excitement when they came out with their trays was palpable and everyone instantly relaxed. He raised an eyebrow at Tiger and the dog woofed. ‘Right, then. If she asks, it was all your idea.’ He chuckled to himself as he stripped off, put the buttercreamsmeared garment on, grabbed the empty wine bottles and balanced them on a chopping board that would have to double as a tray.
33
Aria lifted a bunch of clothes out of her wardrobe and chucked them on the bed. No point in trying to cover her modesty now. What was the point of getting dressed at all? How was she going to explain coming out of his bathroom covered by two napkins, for God’s sake, and showing him, well…pretty much everything? She kicked the towels into the corner and checked there wasn’t a text on her phone telling her to stay in her bedroom and avoid embarrassing herself until further notice. Picking out a short floral sundress and white pumps, she begrudgingly put them on. Noticing her bra spoiled the ruching, she cursed at being gifted a chest that needed titanium underwear. Where had that gene come from? Her mother wasn’t particularly buxom, even before the cancer took her. Aria put on a strapless bra and pushed the edges of the top down over her shoulders. Gah, now she looked like a folk singer. Tiger scratched at the door, and she let him in, leaving it ajar as she bent down to make a fuss of him. Glancing up, she saw Nic, carrying a makeshift tray with two wine bottles on it, his arms and legs bare, and his torso covered by her apron displaying a map of Skiddaw. What the hell? She couldn’t help but let out a laugh.
‘So, I thought we could decant the plonk into the expensive bottle. But I can’t do that without help,’ he said, nodding to the tray. His voice was normal, and his face deadpan, but his state of dress left her so flustered she didn’t know where to look.
‘I’m sorry…’
‘Ah, you don’t need to apologise again. It’s only wine and I think, if we serve her the cheap stuff in the vintage bottles, it’ll be a good wheeze.’ Nic hit his forehead with his hand. ‘Oh, I forgot to bring a funnel! Can you hold these while I go and get one?’ He gave her the tray and spun around. She let out a small cry as he flashed his bare bottom at her. Rounded in all the right places, muscled in others, his buttocks were the star of the show. Her heartbeat quickened at his physique while the swagger in his step told her his behaviour wasn’t down to a mix-up with the towels. She watched him till he rounded the corner, adrenaline pushing through her as she waited for his return. A few moments later, he arrived back with an opaque funnel. His wide grin invited a reaction, but she was lost for words. A thought flashed through her head that he was being kind and equalling things between them, but she wasn’t sure how to respond. Should she thank him? Feign outrage and send him back to the bedroom to get dressed before Donna arrived? Or go with the flow and flirt back? She was supposed to be his fiancée, and she wasn’t feeling all that offended by his body. She was sure the contours on the apron weren’t all Skiddaw – he was as excited by this encounter as she was. Plus, she’d accidentally shown him her undercarriage so was it tit-for-tat?
‘Don’t say tit,’ she muttered to herself, looking down to check hers were covered.
‘I don’t believe I did,’ he growled, his eyes also dropping to her chest.
She was considering grabbing one of the bottles and glugging, when he asked if she wanted to hold it. ‘Hold what?’ Her strangulated voice signalled her confusion as she struggled to keep up with this rapidly unfolding farce.
‘The funnel! What did you think I meant?’ he winked. She took it with a shaking hand and tried to keep it steady while he poured. Then he thanked her for her diligence and said he’d set it down somewhere to breathe. She wished he’d set himself down somewhere else and give her libido a chance to cool. When he obliged by disappearing down the hall, she was rewarded by another eyeful of butt, causing the fire in her groin to grow volcanic.
She retreated back to her room and found Tiger at her doorway, standing by to protect what was left of her dignity. Pushing the clothes off her bed, she climbed under the light duvet. The cotton sheets were so pristine they felt like they’d been ironed onto the mattress. She breathed in their freshness but couldn’t quite relax. There was a tension within her that needed to be released. She lay staring at the ceiling – the image of Nic’s face as he took in her exposed body etched into her mind – while her hands seemed to move of their own volition. Pushing aside the lace between her legs, she reached to touch herself. Pleasure built as she mentally re-ran the incident, concentrating on his honed legs and risingtopography, as well as the shape of his ass as he turned around. Was she imagining things, or did she hear an echo further down the corridor? When relief came, she sank into the sheets and closed her eyes.
34
She probably thought he’d lost his mind as well as his pants. As soon as he returned to his bedroom, Nic started second-guessing what he’d done, although his dick seemed convinced his new sommelier role was a good one. It certainly required some attention, he decided, as he whipped off the apron map giving the Lake District’s fourth highest peak a whole new meaning. He only hoped his behaviour would be taken as a sympathetic gesture rather than a creepy outburst. She had a good sense of humour – several times this week they’d gotten hysterical over something silly when doing their brainstorming. Just last night, they’d constructed a kitchen orchestra and banged out ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ on the pots and pans, so he knew she delighted in having fun. Sometimes, over dinner or during a walk by the lake, it felt like he’d known her forever. He was aware from the way his body reacted to her lately that one small move could take them to a place they couldn’t come back from. That’s what stopped him from marching down the corridor, knocking on her door and kissing her. The moment they made out, he’d be hooked. And they weren’t meant to be. She belonged here, under a bluesilk sky, swimming in the deep. He was a southerner with a failing company to take care of, who was triggered by water. This wasn’t even his house and he’d have to get it on the market soon. But the tension in his shoulders seemed to be travelling down to another part of his body. He stroked himself with his hand, imagining hers wrapped around his hardening shaft. Groaning softly, he thought about the willpower it had taken him to walk away just then. In truth, not kissing Aria was requiring more and more effort each day. As they’d worked together on the pitch to the councillor and shared details about themselves, it had become natural to sling his arm around the back of the sofa and rest his hand on her shoulder. When they achieved something together, he regularly had a compulsion to hug her. The bathroom incident was the biggest exemplification of their many near misses. But still they were chaste, and their relationship stayed friendly. Normally with a woman, things would have quickly escalated past a few drinks, some well-timed compliments and a cab ride back to his. Basic, no-strings stuff. He smiled as he remembered Aria trying to sell him his own property, while sending his garage door into meltdown. He’d been taken in by her lovely face and curvaceous body from the start. Little did he know then how strong-willed she was and ready to stand up for what she believed in. Aria was real. No diets, selfies or high-maintenance shopping trips. She was a natural beauty unlike the last few women he’d dated. He came when he thought of the moment her towel slipped. Hard and fast.
