Page 44 of Resisting Mr Black

I rest my hand on top of his. “Yes, there, but how? We barely know one another.”

He shakes his head slightly as if he doesn’t know the answer. “This is new to me too.” He grazes his lips against my mouth and touches his forehead to mine. “You’re addictive and I’m going to lose myself in you.”

I close my eyes at the strength of his words. We met four days ago. How can we feel this strongly about one another? I don’t know anything about him other than the little information he’s shared and what Lucy discovered from cyber-stalking him. I need to know something… anything.

“What’s your favourite colour?” I blurt.

His eyes search my face as if he’s trying to work out whether it’s a serious question or not. “Blue. Why?”

“I’m just trying to get to know you better?”

He laughs softly. “By asking what my favourite colour is?”

Now I feel a bit stupid. “Don’t laugh. It’s better than nothing.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Ask away.”

I frown. “You’ve put me off now and I don’t know what to ask.”

“Okay, how about I love watching any type of sport but just don’t have the time, I graduated with a 2:1 Sports Science degree from Oxford and won the award for Best Young Entrepreneur the year I left.”

I frown. He’s done what I wanted but it wasn’t exactly what I’d got in mind.

“That’s not the type of thing you meant is it?” he asks, reading my expression.

“Not really. It’s all very impressive but a bit, well… formal.”

He smiles. “Okay then, here goes… my favourite season is winter, my favourite cuisine is Italian, I love snowboarding and skiing but never get the chance to do it because I’m always too busy. The most beautiful place in the world I’ve visited was the Duomo in Florence and I hate cats.”

I giggle. “What have poor cats ever done to you?”

“I’m really allergic.”

I can’t help but smile at the mental image of a big, muscly Art being reduced to a sniffling wreck because of a little cat.

He kisses the tip of my nose. “Is that better?”

I interlace my fingers with his. “It’ll do for now.”

“Go on then, it’s your turn. Spill,” he grins.

“My achievements aren’t as impressive as yours I’m afraid. I studied Art History at Bristol Uni. My favourite colour is red, I like winter too. Cornwall is my favourite place in the world and most of my happiest childhood memories are from when we would go there every year on holiday. I like Italian but prefer Chinese and I don’t mind cats.”

“Why did you choose Art History?”

“My Dad loved painting and drawing, so I grew up around it and really enjoyed Art at school.”

“Art History’s not exactly the same as planning weddings. How did you end up working at the hotel?”

“Lucy got the receptionist job and called me when the wedding planner job came up to see if I was interested. I needed the money to be honest so went for it.”

“And you’re very good at it.”

“I enjoy my job,” I say. “I hope I’m good at it.”

“All the reviews left on Trip Advisor from guests who’ve had weddings at the hotel or who’ve attended weddings, are five star. Don’t sell yourself short. You should be proud.”

I had no idea. I’m too busy to read that stuff. I know how busy the weddings are, so that’s proof enough for me that I must be doing something right. “You have done your research.”

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