Page 66 of Gideon
Gideon stares at me, thoughts running over his clever eyes. “No. Let’s have a walk up to the main house. The chef at the tea rooms makes wonderful food. I had some while you were away. Plus, they have wonderful homemade cakes.” My stomach rumbles and he grins. “There’s that sweet tooth. Come on. Let’s go and grab some food.”
“In public together?” My breath catches but I make my expression calm. “You sure?” I hesitate. “I’m not sure I can be next to you without letting it be known how I feel.”
He stills. “How do you feel?” he asks and the air turns thick between us. I inhale and open my mouth but he holds up his hand quickly. “No. Not like this, Eli. Not as part of a fucking awful negotiation where we have to set limits on how much we can touch each other without the shit hitting the fan.”
I stare at him. “Okay,” I say slowly.
“But just know,” he says, talking quickly, the words almost running into one another, “that I probably want to say the words back to you. In fact I’m fucking desperate to. And when it’s the right time you’ll make me so happy.”
I swallow hard, the gravity of the moment containing a sweetness that stabs me in my heart and throat. Searching for something to rescue him because he looks like he’s considering making a run for it, I widen my eyes. “I never knew you felt so strongly about milk.”
“What?” he says abruptly.
“Milk. You asked me what I felt like. That’s it.”
He stares at me and a slow, sweet smile crosses that thin face, making it incredibly beautiful. He says huskily, “Well, I do. I love milk. More thananything.” We stare at each other and I swallow hard before yelping as he smacks my arse. “Shower. Now.”
“So bossy,” I say wonderingly. “Does the press know about this?”
“Not at all. I’m renowned for my sweetness of manner and my perennial good nature when faced with obstacles.”
I laugh and follow him to the shower, letting him fuss over me and wash my hair and enjoying the feel of that lean, wet body next to me and the scent of spicy vanilla shower gel all over me.
An hour later, dressed in a denim shirt, khaki shorts, and battered navy Converse, I wait as Gideon locks the front door of the cottage and then jump as he grabs my hand. “What are you doing?”
“Holding your hand,” he says softly and firmly as he steers me down the path.
“You can’t. We could be seen.”
“Not yet.” He pulls us to a stop and jerks me round to face him. “I will drop it when people are around, but I don’t want you to think it means nothing. It means everything, and I need to sort it out in my head.”
“It’s okay,” I say softly, tugging him close with my unoccupied hand and inhaling the warm smell of him. “In your own time, remember.”
“Well, my own time isn’t at the expense of you,” he says, pulling back and starting to walk forward, drawing me after him.
“What do you mean?”
“That it won’t be for long. I promise you. I just need to sort out the way forward in my head before I force anything.”
He holds my hand up the path, only dropping it when we turn onto the main drive, but even then he walks close to me, letting his hand brush against mine. It’s oddly sweet. Like being courted.
I gape up at the huge house in front of us, rising golden out of the late afternoon sunshine and glowing as if painted by sunbeams. Thousands of lights twinkle in the windows as the mullioned glass catches the sun. “So beautiful,” I breathe.
He looks up. “It’s better now. When we visited as kids, the estate was run down by his father. Silas and Oz have done a good job.”
“Were you friends with him like you were with Niall?”
He laughs. “That’s the most tactful question I’ve ever heard.”
I shove him lightly. “Answer the tactful question, then.”
“No,” he says lightly. “Silas was just my friend. It was only Niall that I fucked on and off.” He stares ahead at the gravelled path contemplatively. “I always felt slightly left out, to be honest. Silas and Niall roomed together, and they’ve always had this close bond. I felt a bit isolated from that.” He shrugs. “I’ve felt isolated from everything in my life. Always have.” He frowns. “Maybe, thinking about it, that’s why I slept with Niall. Maybe I wanted something that they didn’t share. Hmm.” He laughs. “Shit, that’s deep.”
“Do you feel isolated from me?” I ask in a low voice, and he stops walking and turns to face me. His eyes are hidden as the sun shines brightly behind him.
“Never,” he says, and his rich voice is full of a conviction that reassures me instantly. “I have never in my life felt as connected with anyone as you.”
I follow him into the tea rooms, trying to discreetly ogle his tight arse. He looks as calm and cool as ever in navy shorts, a navy gingham shirt, and white Vans. His distinctive face is made slightly less so by the new beard he’s grown and the Ray-Bans that conceal those clever eyes.
