Page 101 of Love ad Lib
Henry gazed at Libby, concern creasing his brow. ‘You don’t have to.’
‘I want to.’ She wanted to get far away from all of his family. Even Estelle was starting to stress her out.
His face relaxed. He led her onto the jetty and helped her into the back of one of the rowing boats that had cushions on a wooden seat. He sat opposite and rolled his shirt sleeves up.
Libby stared at his arms.
‘Do you want a tissue for that drool?’ Estelle asked as she pushed the side of the boat away from the jetty.
Libby ignored her.
‘I said—’
‘No thank you, Estelle,’ she replied through gritted teeth. ‘Everything’s fine.’
As the boat cut through the water, Libby looked at the lake rather than at Henry in an attempt to keep her cheeks from bursting into flames or her underwear melting.
‘I’m sorry about earlier,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know when to step in.’
She risked a glance at him, then immediately regretted it. The top two buttons of his tailored white shirt were undone, and the rolled-up sleeves revealed his muscular forearms. Seeing so much of his skin felt positively indecent. No wonder young ladies used to swoon at such a sight.Hold it the fuck together.
‘A conversation like that was to be expected. We’ve had an easy ride of it so far,’ she replied, staring at his feet. In her peripheral vision she could still see the movement of his arms.
‘True, but I’d still rather you didn’t have to endure it.’
He rowed towards the centre of the lake.
‘Henry…’
‘Yes?’
He stowed the oars, his focus now entirely on her.
Libby swallowed and risked meeting his eyes. Henry was a magnet, drawing her in, and it was becoming harder and harder to stay away. He’d gone from gorgeous to utterly irresistible.
‘I feel extremely guilty about taking more money from you.’
The shock on his face suggested she’d just asked him to remove the rest of his clothes, throw her to the bottom of the boat and rut her like a stag.
‘What? Why?’
She couldn’t tell him how her feelings for him had changed, but she could be truthful about everything else.
‘Henry, most of the time this has been fun, not a job. I’m being treated like a princess and it’s not costing me anything. You’ve been more than generous in so many ways, and it feels wrong to take any more of your money.’
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and steepling his fingers.
‘Libby, may I speak frankly?’
Uh oh. She nodded.
‘When we return to London, where are you going to live?’
The Foxbrooke bubble burst. In a couple of days, she would leave a fairy-tale four-poster bed for a sofa in the house of a newborn.
Henry waited, as still as a statue.
‘Um, I’m going to stay with Claire until I can find another flatshare.’
