Page 104 of Love ad Lib
Oh bloody fucking hell. She stared at his body, her intellect taking a break from operations as her animal brain prepared to pounce.
‘Am I going the right way?’ he asked.
She looked up. They were not.
‘Um, more to your right.’
She gazed back at her feet, trying to control her breathing as her heart ran double time.
‘Libby?’
‘Hmm?’
‘I really need you to look at me. I can’t do this without you.’
She glanced up to see that he was still rowing in the wrong direction.I thought he was meant to be some kind of pro at this?
By now the boat had turned so that Henry was facing the side of the lake populated by people.
‘See?’ he said. ‘We’ll never get back to the bank unless you help out.’
Libby stared at him. Henry may have been wet, but her pants were soaked.Hang on… Was that a tiny smirk? Was he doing this on purpose? Did he want to indulge her?Oh. My. God.This was going to fuel her fantasies till the day she died.
She swallowed. ‘Yes, of course. Erm, hard about, and, ahem, put your back into it.’
20
Jeers from the shore washed over Henry. In the past, he’d never put less than one hundred per cent effort into his rowing, and today was no exception. However, this time, the effort was focussed on crap technique and absolutely zero sense of direction. If Libby wanted to stare at his body like an ice cream she was desperate to lick, he was determined to make their journey back to shore last as long as possible.
He didn’t know if his physique had ever been so openly appreciated outside of discussions between his aunt and her husband about him modelling for their fashion house. But whereas their gazes had made him uncomfortable, Libby’s made him feel like the sexiest man alive.
When the criticism from the bank became too much, and as Libby became more and more flustered, Henry pulled alongside the jetty. He’d been adamant about changing his clothes, but now made excuses about the distance back to the Manor and undressed down to his boxers, laying his clothes on the grass to dry in the sunshine.
Libby sat on the picnic blanket next to him, her spine straight as she pretended to watch his cousin’s kids swimming with Summer, Jasmine, and Willow. Henry stretched out, enjoying the furtive glances she was sneaking his way.
The sun warmed him and he closed his eyes. The picnic blanket seemed to possess a family-repelling force field (or maybe it was the power of his twin sister) because they were left blissfully alone.
Estelle always had his back. He owed her so much, not least another difficult conversation about the estate. But that could wait for another day. This afternoon was about staying eight inches close to Libby Fletcher for as long as possible and dreaming that one day she might think of him the same way she’d thought about Lucas before he’d messed it up.
‘Henry?’
‘Hmm?’
‘Are you still asleep?’
Huh?He opened his eyes.Hadhe been asleep? ‘What time is it?’
‘Five.’
He pushed to a seated position, glancing around. Everyone had gone and most of the gazebos and furniture had been loaded onto the back of a truck. He rubbed his face and looked at his watch. How had he slept for so long?
‘I didn’t want to wake you up. You seemed very tired.’
He took off his shades to look at her. Her gaze fell away and he remembered his state of undress.
He cleared his throat. ‘Um, did I snore?’
Libby shook her head and got to her feet, her back to him. ‘You were very peaceful. Do you want to go back to the Manor and get ready for tonight?’
