Page 18 of Coronation
Am I ill?
“Do you still want a secret?” she asks, her eyes following as I climb off the bed to drop the latex in the small bin with the others. When I glance back in her direction, I see her lips twitch. “It seems like a waste of an NDA not to.”
I’d forgotten I asked. “Yes. I want you to tell me a secret.” The mattress groans quietly under my weight as I return to her, and Zelda shifts too, until we’re lying on our sides, facing each other. Her hand is resting atop the sheets between us, and taking it feels more natural than my next breath.
She exhales softly, considering. “I had a bad breakup a few years ago, and I’m starting to realize that I’m not quite over it. The guy, I’m definitely over. The damage, though…” She trails off, wincing. “I’m sorry. That’s a really lame secret.”
“It’s not,” I assure her, drawing my thumb over the side of her hand, settling into the new feeling of hatred and jealousy toward a total stranger. It’s irrational, and yet whatever primordial creature this woman has brought out in me seems to be intent on robbing me of every bit of my restraint.
Zelda smiles slightly, and though her eyes are still on mine, I sense she’s far away. “Your turn.”
There is only one thing on my mind, one secret which is worth this moment, and it’s the one that costs me the most to speak. Voluntarily offering up something I’drather keep hidden is unprecedented for me. Yet just as was the case last night, my desire to keep hold of her for a little while longer outweighs the discomfort that comes from emotional vulnerability.
To hell with it.The end of this brief affair will sting no matter how that comes about; I might as well push my luck and attempt to make that time later rather than sooner.
I blow out a rocky breath. “I don’t want this to be over just yet.”
At my admission, the shadows clear instantly from Zelda’s eyes, giving way to an expression of such warmth, it seems to spread into me as well. “You don’t?”
Encouraged and full of hope, I shake my head. “No.”
The smile that splits her face in response is nothing short of radiant. “Me either.”
I have no idea what it is about this woman that disarms me to such an intense degree, but my usual skepticism is nowhere to be found as I tighten my hold on her hand, my heart lifting to impossible heights.
What could be wrong with extending our time together? It’s Saturday morning, and if I shamelessly cancel several items on my schedule for later today, then we could have a full two extra days. At the moment, with our departure from the party looming, that feels like a lifetime.
As I stop to think about it, wracking my mind for a way to bring this about, I realize that the logistics of such a proposal are problematic. It’s not as though I could take her back to Ashwell Palace or book us into a hotel. On the drive up here, though, it occurred to me that the duke’s house was near one of my own.
I swallow. “I own a country house. It’s not far from here, and it’s private,” I tell her, and my pulse is racing as Zelda stills, listening. “Would you come to stay?”
Though in truth it likely takes only a few seconds, it seemsas though an age passes before she responds. “As in, right now?”
My breath seems to be caught in my chest as I nod. “Yes.” There are other things I would like to tell her, the merits of the property and possibly ways we could spend the time there, anything to make a weekend away in a dusty house seem appealing to a woman like Zelda Flowers.
She doesn’t require further persuasion, however, because another of her slow, brilliant smiles has split her face at my words. “Okay.”
My heart leaps. “Okay?”
Zelda nods, beaming at me with such obvious excitement that I find myself grinning, too. “I’ll need to be back by Monday morning. My call time is at 6 a.m.,” she cautions me, searching my face for signs this may be an issue.
“Of course,” I agree readily, my chest full to bursting.She said yes.She said yes, and we have more time. Not a lot, but some. This isn’t a relationship, and there are a hundred reasons why it can’t become one, but I’m greedy where she’s concerned.
If this is all we can have, I will take every second of it and be grateful.
Eight
Zelda
The sun is still rising, its light hazy and new as Benedict leads me from the house, his hand resting on the small of my back.
It was dark last night when Davina and I arrived, and I didn’t get a good view of the property where the party was held. Now, my pace slows as I stare around, taking in the manicured lawn and a tastefully appointed set of stables arranged in the distance, a few horses grazing peacefully. It’s everything a proper Stelland country estate should be, and practically screams old European money.
The long, painstakingly raked drive stops just before the marble front steps, and the only soul in sight is a tall, besuited man standing beside a black Bentley. It’s not very different from the one that brought us here, but there’s something in the driver’s rod-straight back and expressionless face that suggests the man is no ordinary hired driver.
He doesn’t say a word as he opens the back door, only offering the man at my side a respectful nod and avertinghis gaze when I offer him a smile in thanks. A fluttering sensation fills my chest as Ben takes my hand, helping me into the car with a long, searching look. He closes the door behind me, and outside the car, I hear his footsteps crunching on the gravel as he walks to the other side—a perfect gentleman, but of course he would be.
The interior is dark and sumptuously appointed, with plush leather seats and a divider separating the front and back. The few seconds I have alone aren’t nearly enough to steady myself.
