Page 27 of The Player

“A bit frazzled,” he finally says. I can feel his gaze on the side of my head like a heat-seeking missile. “You’re a bit like a swan.” That’s sufficiently odd to make me twist to look at him, and then I’m held by his eyes. They’re full of some emotion.

“What do you mean?” I ask huskily.

“Well, you’re all serene and peaceful on the surface like normal, but I’m getting the sense that a lot is going on under the surface.”

I bite my lip, and his eyes drop to them, where his gaze stays.

“Con,” I say, my voice throaty, and he shudders.

His hand comes up, and then the moment is abruptly broken by the sound of a car horn.

I jump and look behind me, my pulse hammering, aware that Con seems to be breathing heavily.

A man in a huge SUV is waiting behind us, and as I watch, he applies the horn again. “Any time today,” he bellows.

I stick my head out of the window. “Really?” I call sweetly. “Okay then.”

Then I sit back. The silence grows, and I can feel the man’s confusion as he waits for me to move the car.

Con bites his lip, his beautiful eyes sparkling with humour again. “Frankie,” he warns.

“Really?” He nods, and I grimace. Finally, I pop my head out of the window. “Okay, I’m ready now.”

“You’re a twat,” comes the informed response, so I stick out my middle finger before setting off again, zipping along the roads until we come to the turn for the farm.

I sigh happily as I park the car in the gravelled car park. “Smell that, Con.”

He sniffs. “Exhaust and someone’s Marlboro Lights.”

I roll my eyes. “Inhale the lavender. It’s got soothing properties.”

“Maybe we should get some for that SUV driver, then. I think you managed to raise his blood pressure several notches above healthy.”

“Pah!” I say, getting out of the car. “Little man in a big car. He was just overcompensating.”

He laughs and falls into step beside me as we walk towards the kiosk. “No,” I say as he puts his hand in his pocket. “My treat. I dragged you here.”

He looks around as I pay and take the tickets that the man hands me, and we walk off the path and into the vast open expanse. The sky is as blue as a cornflower. The farmhouse is a low-slung series of buildings, but my attention is immediately drawn to the lavender fields. They stretch ahead as far as the eye can see in an ocean of purple. Butterflies dip in and out of the flowers, and there’s a constant buzzing from the bees that are feeding happily. The breeze plays with the fields, sending ripples over the surface and gifting us with a heavenly scent.

“You might have dragged me, but I’m glad you did,” Con says, drawing in an appreciative breath. “God, it smells lovely. Like your lounge.”

I nod. “I get the dried lavender in the big bowl on my coffee table from here. It’s quiet in the mornings too. I always come at this time. The tourists aren’t out yet, so I get the place to myself.”

“You’re sharing it with me today.”

“I’d share it with you any day,” I say without thinking, but I’m glad I did as a warm smile crosses his handsome face.

“Me too,” he says softly.

I smile at him. His brown eyes are very clear in the sunlight, and his angular face is peaceful as he looks out over the fields. I nudge him. “Let’s get a cup of tea.”

We wander to the kiosk that sells hot drinks, food, and more lavender products than you can shake a stick at.

“I’ll have a lavender tea,” I say to the girl and look at Con. “Do you want one?”

“About as much as I want a circumcision with a knitting needle,” he mutters. “I’ll have a coffee,” he says in a louder voice to the girl, who smiles at him and flutters her eyelashes.

“We’ll also have a couple of bacon sandwiches,” I say. I lean forwards. “He’s rather hangry this morning.”

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