Page 15 of Marry Me…Maybe?
The underlying suggestion of until now hung heavily in the air between them.
He shrugged it off.
‘It might be a sticking point for my mother if she checks up on you and sees the sort of exposure you’ve had in the past.’
‘Surely the fact you’ve tamed the wild child in me will be a plus point? It’s one of those fantasies, isn’t it? A strong alpha male showing a fallen woman that she’s worth more than she thinks she is? Usually by being spectacular in bed,’ she said pointedly, waggling an eyebrow at him.
He snorted and shook his head. ‘What kind of books have you been reading?’
‘Actually, I don’t read as much as I used to. I never seem to have the time, what with my job being so all-consuming. But I have a vivid imagination.’
His heart rate spiked as he entertained the sort of things she might be imagining right at that moment. Turning away from her, he grabbed his keys from a hook on the wall, painfully aware that he needed to get out of there before this little sparring match moved on a step – in the wrong direction.
‘Then why don’t you wait here and use it while I have a quick shower next door?’
Her brow pinched into a confused frown. ‘You’re going to your neighbour’s house for a shower?’
‘I meant the building next to this one. It’s a small guest house in the grounds.’
‘Like a granny annex?’
‘If you like.’
‘I bet it’s bigger than my house in London.’
‘Probably.’
It was her turn to roll her eyes this time.
‘I won’t be long. Then we can go into the house together as if you’ve just arrived and I bumped into you on the way back over.’
‘Good plan, Stan.’
He walked out of the door, shaking his head.
In the guest house, he took a quick shower and shaved off the stubble his mother had been so vociferously horrified about since she’d arrived. He hated the thought of having to toady to her, but he didn’t exactly have a choice. He’d do just about anything if it meant she’d go back to Spain and leave him alone.
He wondered how his mother would to react to Emily. At this point it could go either way.
Hopefully, if she did like her, she’d fall for her quickly, because the thought of having to control himself around Emily for very much longer made him edgy.
He understood what kind of a person she was; he’d got her measure the first time they’d met. She was the type who, at parties, when someone arrived wearing a hat, took only a short time to charm it off their head and end up wearing it herself. The kind of woman who knew how to utilise a prop. The kind of woman who got what she wanted, one way or another. It was a real skill, he would happily acknowledge that, but the ‘look at me’ attitude made him uncomfortable. Perhaps because he was now the type of man you would always find in the kitchen at parties, avoiding the determined advances of women desperate to get into his good graces and reap all the benefits an earl had at his disposal.
His natural inclination was to circle the edge of the action, watching and commenting from the sidelines, choosing hismoment to shine. Emily was clearly the type who threw herself into the fray and rode the lulls and peaks like the accomplished social surfer that she was. She was also the type of person everyone hoped would turn up, because she made fun things happen.
With or without a hat.
He could imagine she was a queen at bringing the buzz, and that when you were in her favour you felt like the luckiest and most fascinating man alive, but when she grew bored, being relegated to the shade of her presence would feel very cold indeed. He could do without getting involved with someone like that again.
He was already cold enough.
When he got back to the workshop a few minutes later he found her sitting on a stool at the back of the room, reading something on her smartphone.
She glanced up when he walked over to her and did a double-take.
‘Whoa!’
He raised both eyebrows in question, wondering what the exclamation was for. She was staring intently at him again. It had freaked him out a little last time, but he was growing used to it – and her – now.
