Page 65 of Play On

Yet it doesn’t scare me.

At all.

“We’ll see you later, Violet,” Amelia says, interrupting my thoughts.

They depart for the stables, and I continue to the library. I kick off my shoes and leave them outside the entrance. Then I go to my favourite table in the room and open my laptop. I reread all my ideas, and then I flip over to Google so I can search for more of them to add to my list. So many estates do things with art, so the trick is to find something that won’t compete at the same time with other neighbouring estates here in Dorset.

So that leads me down a rabbit hole of cross-checking against event diaries, making notes. I frown a bit when I see so many events planned, but I also have to think there are enough art lovers in the world that people would come to any event I have planned, too.

Whilst I’m in my rabbit hole, my gaze keeps dropping to the clock on the bottom right-hand corner of my laptop. As the time ticks closer to when Noah will arrive, I get a little less interested in typing notes and more interested in seeing if his car will be winding up the front drive, as I gave him access to the gate that is now closed to visitors for the day. Sure, I could have him come around to the family entrance of the house, but he did that last time he was here. Besides, what is the joy of living in an estate like this if you can’t use it for grand entrances?

Buzz!

I glance down at my phone. It’s Aimee. I tap open her message and read:

Is the red lipstick a GO for being kissed all over that fit footballer?

I laugh at that and message her back:

IT IS.

Aimee is typing …

GOOD. Have fun! I expect ALL the details tomorrow! X

I type back:

Oh, Ames, I’m not the type of girl to kiss and tell, but for you? I *might* just make an exception. X

Suddenly I hear the sound of tyres on the drive, and I glance out the window. I see a sleek silver car coming down the gravel path and my heart dances like mad inside my chest. I’m not big on cars, so I have no idea what it is, but all that matters is that Noah is the man who is driving it. I save what I’m working on, close my laptop, and hurry over to the one mirror in the room to do a final check on my appearance.

I’m surprised at what I find in my reflection. My cheeks are flushed, my pupils are wide with excitement, and I can’t stop the smile that seems to be etched on my face.

My first real date with Noah is actually going to happen.

I slip my shoes back on and head out to the main hall, my heels clicking along the black-and-white marble floor. I pass by marble busts of my ancestors and antique tables with vases filled with freshly cut roses from the garden. Portraits of more relatives hang on the walls, and a detailed plaster ceiling is overhead. Sunlight beams through the front window, casting a beautiful glow onto the bust of the eighth Earl of Banfield.

To visitors who pass through these halls, this is a museum.

But to me? It’s only been known as a home.

When I think about that, I’m reminded of what privilege I have to be born into this family, and to have the responsibility to be a caretaker of this history for others to enjoy.

I reach the massive wooden door and slide the bar back to open it. I don’t need to wait for Noah to ring the doorbell.

Or to send my curious parents running ahead to pounce on him, I think wryly.

I step outside into the warm summer air. Today is the exact opposite of the rainy Monday we had, with beautiful blue skies overhead. The sun won’t set until late, so we have a gorgeous evening ahead of us.

The car comes closer, and I put my hand over my eyes to shade them from the sun. Noah is behind the wheel, his eyes covered by sunglasses. He raises a hand in greeting, and I see his wrist is adorned with some bracelets, along with a massive silver watch that reflects back at me in the sunlight.

So. Damn. Hot.

Now I can see the ornament on the bonnet of the car. It’s a Bentley, and I’m suddenly reminded he’s not just Noah, but a multimillionaire who probably has a fleet of posh cars to drive.

The car comes to a stop, and I find myself holding my breath. The door opens, and Noah exits.

Holy shit.He’s gorgeous.

---