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You’re not buying a dress. – Theo

I blink at the screen.

Why not? – Georgia

If you need a dress to help me overcome my generational trauma, the least I can do is buy it for you. I’ll take you shopping tomorrow. – Theo

I let out a short laugh, half charmed, half bristling.

That’s very generous, Lord Norfolk, but you hate shopping. Remember the Hamleys debacle? – Georgia

There’s a pause, then three dots appear again.

We’ll talk about it tonight. I’ll see you later. – Theo

I close the chat with a smile. I don’t care who buys the dress. I’m more excited that I’ll be seeing him tonight.

Sam’s right, I need to stop second guessing myself. In every way. Because I’m going to enjoy this time with Theo while I can.

13

THEO

“Harrods has valet parking?” Georgia says as I hand the keys to the driver and walk around to open her door. “Who knew?”

“People who spend too much time here,” I say, taking her hand and helping her out of the car.

She grins at my obvious distaste for shopping. But it’s also the easiest way to find exactly what she’ll need for Norfolk. I keep her hand firmly clasped in mine as we walk under the green canopy and into the entranceway.

A blast of warm air hits us first. Georgia pauses for a moment, looking up at the crystal chandeliers festooned with green garlands, the whole scene apparently sponsored by Dior. In front of us, a traditionally dressed Father Christmas welcomes us inside, wearing a floor length red robe.

“Well this isn’t quite what I expected,” she says, looking around, wide-eyed.

I huff a quiet laugh, steering us past the life-size reindeer and around the perfume counter and handbags toward the discreet bank of lifts tucked behind a paneled wall.

A man in a dark suits steps out. “Good morning, Mr. Hunt.”

Georgia lifts a brow but says nothing.

“Good morning,” I reply easily. “We have an appointment.”

He nods and presses a key against a panel. The lift doors open without a sound. He stands back and lets us walk in, then the doors close.

“Oh my God,” Georgia says, a grin on her lips. “Is this a private elevator? Where is it taking us to, the Bat Cave?”

“Sadly Batman wasn’t available. We’re going to meet with a personal shopper.”

Georgia blinks. “I just need a dress, Theo. Not an entire wardrobe makeover.”

I shrug. “You’ll need a few other things too.”

She tips her head to the side, a frown playing at her lips. “Like what?”

“Clothes you don’t mind getting muddy in.”

She pauses for a beat. “Is this where you tell me I’ll be mud wrestling for your family’s entertainment?” she asks. “Because my arms are way too puny for that.”

I try – and fail – to blink that image out of my mind. “The house is in the country. Surrounded by fields.”