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She smiled. “I figured I’d go for something a little more subtle tonight.”

He looked her up and down. “Then you probably shouldn’t have worn that dress.”

Her heart skipped a beat in response.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded, unable to speak as the two of them headed out the door.

Winnie did everything she could to distract herself from Matthew—from his compliment and from the way his slacks hugged his thighs to his ability to make her not only feel heard but also seen.

That was all easier said than done until they reached the inside of the city, where Winnie was shocked to discover that York was, in fact, surrounded by a large wall. Matthew explained the history as they walked down the streets, both sides of the small roads lined with countless shops, their windows boasting of Christmas décor, antique books, and hand-crafted teapots.

It reminded her of New York in a way, but this old York held a definite magic to it, a magic that she was sure came from how ancient the city was and the history it held. Instead of towering, metal skyscrapers, York overflowed with quaint shops, overhanging signs, and cobbled roads, and Winnie fell in love with England just a little bit more because of that.

As for her time with Matthew, she felt as if she were living in a dream. The last thing she wished to do was return to reality tomorrow, to her job, to her stress, to her decision to stay or to go.

But then, who was she kidding? How could she ever choose to leave now, after all the work Matthew had put into helping her?

Instead of telling him her decision, however, she kept silent about it throughout their dinner at a nearby pub, centering their conversation around more trivial matters—matters that didn’t cause her to fear failing again. Because, frankly, she was enjoying this frivolous time with Matthew, so much so that she didn’t want the evening to end when their meal did. Fortunately for her, he appeared to want the same, suggesting a walk around the city walls instead of going to bed, which Winnie readily agreed to.

“I thought you said no more steps,” she said as they climbed the twenty-or-so up to the top of the walls.

“Quit your whinging,” he’d said with a smile, then he motioned for her to precede him up the stairs.

At the top of the thirteen-foot walls, Winnie marveled at the pink and purple sunset across the city, lighting up the glass windows of the minster, the brown tops of the terraced homes, and the trees that popped up across the city like green flowers blossoming from stone.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Matthew asked, motioning to the sights. “New York doesn’t hold a candle to the real York.”

Winnie had to agree.

They continued on, and Matthew took to sharing more facts about the city as they walked along the fortifications.

“They’re the longest city walls in England,” he said. “They were built in seventy-one AD, but only a small degree of stonework remains from actual Roman origin. It’s pretty amazing, though, that in the medieval times, there were already the four gatehouses that allowed traffic inside and out of the city.”

He continued for a few more minutes, then abruptly stopped with an averted gaze. “Sorry. I could obviously go on for hours about this stuff.”

“Oh, please, don’t apologize. I love listening to you talk.”

Their eyes met, and only then did she realize how ridiculous her comment had sounded, like she was fawning all over him.

“The history is fascinating,” she quickly corrected.

He nodded, though his eyes lingered on her. “No, it’s the accent. I’ve heard it can make anything boring sound entertaining.”

That was true enough. She could listen to him read Minnie’s owner’s manual, and she’d still swoon at the sound. Still, she didn’t want to risk sounding like she was throwing herself at him. She’d better tease him again. That was always the safest option.

With a shrug, she responded. “I guess that could be true. For some people. I mean, I prefer Finn’s. Northern Irish, right? But yours is nice, too, I guess.”

“Northern Irish? Over my proper English?” Matthew scoffed. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”

“Whatever suits your pride. Now tell me more about these walls.”

Matthew swiftly obliged. With bright eyes, he continued his happy instruction, and Winnie listened with as much enthusiasm as ever until they paused on the path with the perfect view of the minster.

Matthew took a moment to catch his breath, and unfortunately, Winnie’s mind took the silence as an opportunity to wander.

There they were, walking around an ancient city’s walls with Matthew—basically breathless with how happy he was speaking of the history of the city, revealing his passion every minute—and Winnie…heartless, passionless, lifeless Winnie.