Page 104 of The Penalty

“Having access to that—” I mimicked his hand motions “—isn’t limited to this townhouse.”

“No?”

“Remind me which one of us propositioned the other with public sex the first night we met?”

He smirked. “Regretting your decision to blow me off?”

“I didn’t blow you off. I was suffocating under the weight of your ego.”

“Wow.” His tone dipped into the darker one I loved. “I’m going to save that remark for a rainy day.”

“Good thing it rains in England every five minutes.”

We decided to go to Leicester Square and Covent Garden. I only had today with him before heading back to Manhattan. My flight was scheduled for seven this evening and I planned to make the most of every second.

“Would you like to go see some of the work I’ve done on your cottage?” he asked while we strolled through the outdoor market. Several people stopped and whispered when they spotted us. It didn’t faze Xavier one bit. Me either, to an extent.

Escorting professional athletes to press conferences or events was part of my job. However, it was much different holding hands with one of them on a crowded street. Especially if said athlete was a global soccer star and had millions of fans. I noticed more than a few onlookers pause to snap photos of us.

“I would but I don’t want to waste all day in a car driving back and forth. Next time?”

“Next time.” He draped an arm over my shoulders. “I haven’t done any work upstairs. Would you prefer if I stay away from your sister’s room for now?”

Wisps of guilt and remorse squeezed my chest. Being in Charlotte’s room for the first time in nearly twenty years had such an effect on me. It was more than finding her diary or feeling her spirit in every corner.

It felt like I’d lost her all over again, even though everything in her room remained frozen in time.

“I would, yes,” I responded quietly. “I’d like to take my time packing her belongings and…yeah, just stay downstairs for now.”

He kissed the top of my head.

“How’s everything going with the foundation?”

“Good. I think I figured out what the name should be.”

We stopped walking to browse items on a vendor’s table.

“Are you going to tell me or do I have to guess?” he asked.

“I’ll tell you when I’m ready,” I teased. “But I will give you a hint. It sort of ties into the meaning behind my tattoo.”

Xavier’s expression softened. “Still rising from the ashes?”

A lump formed in my throat. “Always.”

Two teenage girls ran over and breathlessly asked Xavier for a picture. They giggled and blushed when he agreed.

“We’d like one with you as well,” one of them said to me. “If you don’t mind.”

I smiled, taking the phone from her while they flanked Xavier. “I don’t mind.”

They were cute. Excited and shy about meeting their favorite soccer player.

Charm came so naturally to Xavier. The genuine smile. The eye contact. The friendly banter. He had an innate way of making people feel at ease, all while luxuriating in their attention.

When it was my turn, I passed the phone off to him and posed with the young girls. They thanked us over and over, looking at the photos and chatting with starstruck grins.

We continued our stroll, bypassing the numerous clothing shops and jewelry stores. I did take a detour into one shop to get a bottle of my favorite perfume.

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