“Shut up!” Pippa squeaked. She glanced back into the house, relieved Wolfie was nowhere in sight to hear this. Even a simple joke about the appeal of a man who wasn’t Alex made her insides wobble. “He’s technically my boss. Also, like, my landlord. Please stop being inappropriate.”
“All in good fun. You’re single, he’s … well.” Todd waggled his eyebrows. “Who knows what his deal is, but I didn’t see a ring on that finger.”
The mere suggestion of wedding rings sent Pippa hurtling down a cesspit of self-pity in 0.2 seconds, straight to the parallel universe where a different Pippa Munro was planning a long-awaited wedding to her long-term love and looking forward to the most idyllic future. Pippa hated that version of herself. And as for Wolfie, well he was sure to have some kind of well-heeled, Miss World type girlfriend squirreled away somewhere down south. No wonder he didn’t want to be in Hurst Bridge any more than he had to be. Pippa hugged herself in an attempt to keep her emotions in check, but her distress didn’t escape Todd’s attention. He quickly sobered.
“Hey.” Todd tilted his head. “You all right?”
“I’m fine.” Pippa took a deep breath then shook her head. “Actually, no I’m not, not really. Bad break-up. A long story.”
“We all have them,” Todd murmured. “Feel free to share with me if ever you’re inclined.” He flashed a kind smile. “Believe me, no judgement.”
Affection surged through Pippa. “Thank you.”
Juniper gave a sudden tug on her lead, forcing Todd into a stumble and breaking the moment of burgeoning friendship. “Great, now she decides to move.” He dug his heels in and regained control of the determined pig. “I need to get her home. Will you be okay?”
“I will be,” Pippa said firmly. She had no choice in that, after all.
“Call me if you need anything,” Todd said. “My number’s on the noticeboard in the kitchen.” Touched by his kindness, Pippa promised she would.
Once she’d escorted Todd and Juniper off the premises, Pippa looked down at herself. Her skin was sticky, coated in foul-smelling cleaning solution and even though she was desperate to shower, there were more chairs to clean, plus she had rattraps to check. Pippa decided that once those messy chores were complete, she would treat herself to a bath. Maybe a gin and tonic to go with it. Just then, her mobile’s ringtone faintly called to her from her room. Something in her gut lurched; could it be Alex? Cursing herself for leaving her phone unattended for so long, Pippa sprinted up the stairs.
What would she say to Alex if he called?
Did she even want him to call?
Arriving on the landing, Pippa skidded round the corner, wishing she could move quicker. Surely the caller would give up soon and—she hurtled headlong into something warm, firm and wet, her forehead making contact with something decidedly pointy.
“Argh!” Pippa’s yelp was matched by someone else’s pained cry. Clutching her aching head, Pippa looked up.
Wolfie stood before her, massaging his elbow. Pippa opened her mouth to apologise but the sight of him stole all the words from her vocabulary. He was practically naked, soaking wet from the shower with a fluffy towel knotted around his narrow hips. The man looked as if he’d been hewn from marble, with drops of water clinging to well-defined abs. His chest was taut and lightly tanned, with some kind of an inscription tattooed across firm pectoral muscles. A slim trail of hair teased a path down below the edge of the towel and Pippa was momentarily seized by a sudden curiosity about where it led. She tried not to stare, but the last time she’d been this close to a man this naked had been months ago and as much as she’d loved Alex, not once had the sight of him undressed unravelled her like this.
“Where’s the fire?” Wolfie muttered, wincing as he rubbed his elbow. “And God, how hard is your head?”
It was taking all of Pippa’s effort to keep her eyes on the man’s face. “Sorry,” she squeaked.
“Is your head all right?” he asked. “We banged pretty hard just then.”
Pippa snorted with nervous laughter at the unintended pun, instantly regretting it as Wolfie’s face darkened with apparent irritation. Flushing, she waved a hand. “I’m fine,” she said, even as she realised she might develop an unsightly bruise. “My fault.”
“Yes, it was.” Wolfie hitched his towel up, perhaps suddenly aware he was almost nude in the presence of a woman he barely knew. “I don’t think anything’s broken though.”
“Only my dignity,” Pippa said with a groan. “Sorry, again.”
“Don’t mention it, Pippa Munro.” And with that, Wolfie loped off to his room. Pippa was unable to do anything apart from stand clutching her aching forehead and watch him leave.
“Whatisit with the full name?” Pippa murmured to herself. As soon as Wolfie closed his door behind him, the paralysis in her legs lifted and she scurried to her room and slammed the door shut, leaning against it so she could catch her breath. Her heart was still thudding with an unfamiliar adrenaline, her skin tingling.
Unbidden, Pippa had an image of reaching out to Wolfie’s perfect chest, of licking drops of water from his body. She wondered how his skin would taste, what it would be like to feel his lips on hers, his hands in her hair. Desire unfurled within her, and she welcomed it like a long-lost friend as it snaked its way up her body. Her nipples stiffened and she clenched her legs together, crying out for release.
Mortified, Pippa took a deep breath then let it out. Lust had been absent from her life for so long it felt almost alien. Heartbreak had been her most constant companion and having gone through precisely one major break-up in her life, Pippa was a stranger to what lay beyond a broken heart. She hadn’t even considered fostering an attraction to another man, least of all someone who was both her boss and landlord in one. She shook her head, forcing the roiling emotions back down. Leaving Alex had taken every ounce of strength and dignity from her, and she would be damned before she threw away whatever progress she’d made since then by mooning over a man with whom she had no business getting involved. Even if he did look likethatwhen clad only in a wet towel. She checked her phone and tutted – it looked like a spam call. Relief and disappointment both curdled in her stomach at the fact it wasn’t Alex. She shoved the phone in her pocket.
Pippa poked her head out of her bedroom door and looked towards Wolfie’s room. The door was shut, but she could see shadows moving through the little gap at the bottom of his door. Good. If he was shut away in there, he couldn’t pop up and bother her with his inconvenient handsomeness as she worked. Besides, she had chairs to polish and rattraps to check. She took a quick glance in the mirror on the wall; her eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed.
“Get over it,” she told herself. “He’s just a man.”
With that said, she headed downstairs and made short work of the remaining chairs. Once done, Pippa made her way to the cellar where the bulk of the rattraps were. Opening the door, she fought off a distasteful shudder. Although she had no fear of rodents, she had no desire to encounter any, dead or otherwise.
Pippa crossed her fingers as she entered the cellar. Fortunately, she soon discovered that the traps were empty but there was one that looked broken, the spring hanging off it. The bait was also gone, so Pippa could only assume that some wily creature had managed to outsmart the trap. Somewhat relieved, Pippa decided to take the trap out to see if she could fix it. Mindful of the dust and the fact that a rat could possibly have crawled all over it, she found a hessian sack in the corner and scooped the trap up into it. As she worked, there was a rattling in the walls. The pipes. She presumed it was the aftermath of Wolfie’s shower, and the memory of him half-naked in the corridor popped treacherously into her mind yet again.
